Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
“Twenty minutes,” I push out, trying not to look at her glossy mouth.
Her martini glass shaped tits.
My God, I don’t even think she’s wearing a bra.
I’m a Green Beret, goddammit. A decorated service member. I have too much honor to lust after a college-aged girl, but here I am. Salivating over that slight swell behind the zipper of her jeans. Enough.
“Thank you,” she says, relieved, removing her hands from my shoulders. Turning away from me slightly, she bends over and picks up her overnight bag, my dick throbbing at the tight stretch of denim across her ass.
I cough hard into my fist and stuff myself back into the booth.
The girl tosses her bag onto the opposite bench and attempts to slide in, but she can’t. My legs are so thick and long, they’re blocking her.
“Um…” She chews her lip a second, then climbs into the space between my thighs, patting my knees once she’s settled. “So this is cozy.”
“Sorry about that,” I mutter. “I asked for a table in the giants’ section, but they were all taken.”
Laughing, she holds out a hand across the table. “No need to apologize. I’m Petra, by the way. Petra Kowolski.”
Yeah. I had a feeling she’d have a unique name. Suits her. “Order your fries, Petra, so I can send you on your way. I’m not bringing you to this wedding.”
She signals the waitress with a smile and orders fries, plus a Diet Coke. “Do you want anything?” Without waiting for me to answer, she amends the order to a double order of fries. “We can share.”
I grunt.
When is she going to notice the scarring on my face?
She hasn’t glanced at it once.
Is she ignoring it on purpose or is she not very observant?
Leaning forward, she says, “You are going to let me come to this wedding, Barry, for three reasons. One, I am a makeup artist and I am highly skilled at making myself look older. I can pass for twenty-three. Easy.”
“That’s still too young.”
“Not this close to Vegas. I’ve seen girls with men old enough to be their grandpas.”
“Just because the bar is low doesn’t mean yours should be, too.”
She squints one of those green eyes at me. “The second reason you’re going to let me come to this wedding is…” She props her chin on her fists and bats her eyelashes. “I’m fun. You won’t be bored.”
“I like being bored.”
“No one likes being bored. And the third reason is…” She drops her voice to a whisper. “We’re not going to have sex, right? I might be too young in your eyes, but since we’re not getting busy, you get to maintain your moral high ground. No harm, no foul.”
I am stiffer than a flagpole in January as she’s saying this to me.
“Maybe that’s true and we’re not going to…” The back of my neck is hot as a stove. “Be together in that way. But people will think I’m…”
“Hitting that?”
“Jesus. Do you always talk like this?”
“I’m the receptionist at an escort agency. What do you think?” The waitress sets a Diet Coke down in front of her and she takes a long, savoring sip—no straw—before setting the glass down again. “On the flip side, you seem uncomfortable talking about sex.”
“With a nineteen-year-old, I am.”
“Stop dwelling on that, would you?” Mid eye roll, she takes another small sip. “Is that the only reason you’re uncomfortable discussing it?”
Just like when we were on the phone, there’s something about her directness that makes me reveal things without giving them any forethought. It’s refreshing, the way she speaks so frankly. With most people, I can’t tell where I stand. Or if I said something wrong. If they’re stressed by my injury. The anxiety sort of just melts away when I’m talking to Petra.
“I don’t, uh…I haven’t dated since I entered the service.”
She nods, processing that. “How long have you been home?”
“Two years.”
“Two?” She blinks. “And how long did you serve?”
“Ten years as a Green Beret.”
She counts off the years on her fingers. “Are you saying you haven’t been with a woman in twelve years? That’s why you’re uncomfortable discussing sex?”
Hearing the truth out loud makes it sound worse. “I’ve said all I’m going to say.”
Petra falls back against the booth, her outer thighs chafing the insides of mine. “Good gravy, man.” She shakes her head. “Well, I’d offer to schedule you with one of my sisters when we get back from the wedding, but after this weekend, you won’t need any help with women.”
I frown. “Why is that?”
“Because Barry…” She gives me a smug once-over. “You’re a big, sexy hunk of man. An American hero, too. And you’re honorable? Trust me, with a little confidence, you’re going to end the sex drought all on your own.”
I watch her for a handful of seconds waiting for the punch line.