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d find easy like that.
After the long day that nearly landed me a ticket to six feet under there was only one thing I wanted by nightfall.
I marched right into Carpe Diem and took my doll. I walked into that lounge Lucca had her parading around in like a piece of meat and took her back to our suite.
It wasn’t until I was balls deep inside her sweet pussy that I was able to relax, and that’s what I did the following night too when I had more injuries.
Once again, we’re in the room for hours, fucking and we need sleep, but I don’t want sleep because I have to leave when the sun comes up.
I already know it’s going to be one of those crazed days that could ripple on to more shit I don’t want. It’s not like me to have to search so hard to find a guy. But it’s not every day I deal with men like Antonio Monroe.
The fact that anybody got close enough to me to cut me is a big deal so I’m savoring this doll.
She’s riding my cock and the bed rattles as her little hips move against me.
She’s owning my dick and I’m allowing her to like she’s mine. When she arches her back and her tits bounce in my face I can’t help it, I have to take back control and fuck her.
I do and the sound of her screaming my name does something to me.
We both come and share the release of ultimate pleasure. I hold her and the beginning of a smile tips the corners of her lips. It disappears, though, as soon as it comes like she just remembered who I am and what we aren’t. That grips me too and I find myself curious about her.
Curious about the real her, the woman she was before she came here.
She shuffles off me but I reach for her.
“What?” she asks.
“I like you,” I tell her and her cheeks flush. The rose color runs right down her elegant neck giving her skin a glow.
I stare back at her taking in her beauty. She wouldn’t know that such words are hard to drag out of a man like me. I can’t remember the last time I said it.
“I like you too,” she confesses, then looks away bashful. When she tries to bite back a smile I catch her doll-like face and hold her.
“Don’t do that. Don’t hide your smile from me,” I say.
“I don’t want to remember what it feels like to smile.” She shakes her head.
“I want to see it.”
She shows me and there’s a light that comes into her eyes that fades just like her smile.
Once again I have that thought that she shouldn’t be here and I want to know where she came from.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Here… Chicago.”
I recall that first night we met and I saw her in the lounge. She was crying. I want to know why.
“What made you cry the other night?” I ask riveting my gaze to hers. Again she looks surprised and does a poor job of hiding it.
I release her and hold her gaze, showing I want an answer.
“I was thinking of where I should be,” she replies.
“Where is that … Megan?”
“Singing… I should be singing.”
