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Fuck me, she’s beautiful.
“I’ll be sure to tell her when I have my head between her thighs tonight.” The old man next to me chokes on his beer, and Cora stifles a gasp, her eyes wide with shock.
A gorgeous blush creeps across her cheeks. Pulling her hair from my hand, she admonishes playfully, “I’m at work.”
“Get the other bartender to help out, we can sneak to the back.”
“Not happenin’, mister. Besides, I already rubbed one out in the shower.”
It’s my turn to gape at her. The old man is definitely still listening. His eyes are on the beer in front of him, but his body is leaning toward us to hear better, but I don’t care. I think of Cora, shiny and wet in the shower, rivulets of soap suds dripping from her nipples, her fingers slipping between her legs and her lips parted wide…
Fucking hell.
My jeans grow tighter, if that’s possible, and I look away, trying to think of anything but her sweet moan as she came before we got here.
Knowing damn well she’s won the battle, she strides off to help a customer.
As she works away, my phone pings with an incoming text from Priest, giving me a status update.
All clear.
Good. Almost done here, then back to the motel.
Three little dots pop up on the screen.
Wear a condom.
Rolling my eyes, I send him the middle finger emoji, then watch the little dots bounce, waiting for his reply.
Call Hashtag. Maybe he can get some information on this fucker so I don’t have to keep sweating my balls off in this damn lawn chair.
I highly doubt Cora’s mother would ever let him sweat to death. Yesterday, during my watch of the house, she’d brought me a never-ending supply of cold drinks, as well as a fan attached to a little orange extension cord. Priest’s likely living it up tonight on guard duty, but he’s right. We can’t stand sentry outside her house forever. As long as that douchebag is out there, Cora and her family are in danger. We have to come up with a more permanent solution.
I catch Cora’s eye and point to an empty section of the bar. “Gonna go make a phone call.”
Nodding, she resumes filling the fridge that runs along the back counter.
Making my way to the empty space, I lean my ass against a table while pulling up Hashtag in my contacts. If anyone can find information on Big Dick, it’s that smart son of a bitch.
The phone rings twice before he answers.
“Whatever it is you want, the answer is no,” he growls into the phone. I hear a commotion in the background… kids yelling, adults yelling…
“The fuck’s goin’ on there?”
Hashtag groans in frustration. “Dude, you don’t wanna know.”
“It’s not fair!” someone shouts from the other end of the line.Interesting.
“Oh,” I drawl, “I think I do.”
“Let’s just say that GP’s in deep shit.”
Okay, now that’s surprising. GP’s usually the perfect one, which is part of the reason Judge had entrusted him and his old lady to watch the kids while we were here. “You’re going to have to give me more than that, man.”
Hashtag’s voice is without any humor when he says, “Let’s just say GP wasn’t watching the kids as closely as we thought.”
“Oh, fuck.” I bark out a laugh. “Your daughter?”
