Page 118 of Devil’s Disciples

“Nope.”

She rested her cheek against her hand and batted her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because if I told you everything, you’d get up and leave.”

“Try me.”

I hoisted my fork. “Can I finish my meal first?”

“You’re not going to offend me.”

I took the bite and laughed. “There’s no doubt I’ll offend you. The question is whether or not I’ll offend you so much that you’ll want to leave.”

“Now you’ve got my interest.” She leaned forward and widened her eyes. “You’ve got to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Fine. Just remember.” I wagged my finger at her. “You asked for it.”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said mockingly. “I’m a big girl.”

I took a sip of beer and studied her for a moment. I had my doubts that she’d accept everything I had to say without getting pissed off. But, she asked for my thoughts, so I decided to give her exactly what she wanted.

“Every time you open your mouth, I imagine you wrapping those thick lips around my cock. And, when that truck pulled out in front of us and your big soft titties smashed against my back? All I could think about was sticking my dick between them and titty-fucking you until I came all over that pretty little face of yours.” I pointed at her with the neck of my beer bottle. “And, don’t even get me started talking about that ass of yours. I can’t even look at it without getting hard.”

“My second-place ass makes your dick hard?” She grinned. “Does that mean it’s a second-rate dick?”

She didn’t seem mad, which surprised the shit out of me. I held her gaze while I leaned back in my chair. “My cock is first-rate. Your ass is, too.”

“You said the girl in fourth grade had a better ass. Mine was second best.”

“That was ten hours ago.” I pointed at her butt with my eyes. “It’s a first-place ass now.”

She took a moment to absorb the remark, seeming content with my opinion of her ass. While I waited for her to address the other comments, she raised her hand to her face.

“These pouty little things?” She wiped the tip of her finger along her bottom lip. “You think they’re big?”

“DSL’s if I’ve ever seen ‘em.”

“I think they’re thin.”

She had the best set of lips I’d ever seen. I leaned forward and widened my eyes. “Your lips aren’t thin. They look fucking amazing. Sexy as fuck, too. Why would you say they’re thin?”

“Have you ever seen the people who are so tan that they look like fools? You know, the ones who spend all day at the beach, and then go to the tanning booth to top it off? They’re so dark that they look ridiculous?”

Her skin was dark bronze in color, resembling that of Hispanic men who spent all day working in the sun. The tone seemed natural, and I guessed she spent most of her free time at the beach to obtain such a glowing tan. The fake-baked idiots she spoke of were often the amateur actors and actresses who plagued Southern California’s gyms, bars, and nightclubs.

“I’ve seen a few of those idiots,” I said. “Why?”

“Well, they look that way because when they look in the mirror, they don’t perceive themselves as being tan. I’m that way with my lips. When I look in the mirror, I think I need lip injections.”

“You getting lip injections would be like Dolly Parton getting a boob job.”

She laughed. “Another boob job?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Another?”

She shrugged. “They’re fake.”

I wrinkled my brow in disbelief. “No shit?”