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“Not now, Cindy,” I answer irritated, pushing past her heading to the bar. Her mouth drops open and then pouting her lips, she asks, “Why?”
“Because I said so,” I growl at her. She rolls her eyes and then turns and storms off farther into the bar.Stupid bitch. Getting to the bar, I slam my hand down on the counter to get Nick the bartender's attention.
“What ya need?” Nick replies, walking up to me throwing a bar towel over his shoulder. He’s tall and bony, his cut and clothing hanging off him because he has no muscle.
“Two beers.” I hold up two fingers. He reaches into the ice bin under the counter and places two beers on the bar in front of me. I throw a twenty at him. “Keep the change,” I say, grabbing the beers and leaving to find Billy.
I wave to Billy in the back corner. Girls are hanging all over him, begging him to play their song next. One of them is trying to improve her chances by giving him a titty shot.What the fuck is up with him and C? Surely, he is not with her because there is no way any man would be in here with her out there. If he is with her, I'm going to kick his ass for letting her sell weed, and for letting her have a gun she knows nothing about, but most of all because I want her.
“What's up?” Billy says, coming over. I can tell he's nervous.
He knows it has something to do with C.
“Get someone to replace you,” I say, pointing to the DJ station. “Meet me in my office.” Billy nods an okay hesitantly.
Sitting behind the desk in my office, I remember her being sprawled out on it underneath me. Her body trembled under my control and that made me hard as shit. When I lifted her shirt to get the gun, I saw the strap of her panties running along her small curvy hips. They were like a seafoam green and not flashy or sexy like I see the girls here wear, but cute with a little bow in the middle. Innocent looking but so fucking hot at the same time. Her scent is sweet, not an overbearing flower or spicy scent I’m used to smelling on women. She makes me want to cuddle and take care of her when I look at her, but when I was spanking her ass, all I could imagine was ripping her clothes off and ramming into her. Her fucking ass is perfect; firm round globes that stick out like a shelf. How the hell did she get such a perfect ass on such a tiny body? I’ve got to find out more about her. She seems out of place, too innocent to be selling weed, but that damn mouth.
A knock at the door breaks my thoughts. Sitting up in my chair, I holler, “Come in.” Billy enters the room. “Shut the door and have a seat.”
I point to one of the chairs in front of the desk. He shuts the door behind him and then looking around the room, he walks over and sits in the chair. Reaching across the desk, I hand him one of the beers. “Thanks,” he says with a nod, taking it from my hand.
Sitting back in my chair, I rest my elbows against the arms with my fingers steepled together in front of me.
“So, what's up?” Billy asks, twisting the cap off his beer.
“That girl, the one who brought the weed, tell me about her,” I ask, grabbing my beer off the desk and opening it.
“What do you want to know?” he asks casually.
“What’s her name?”
“C,” he replies, not offering any more information.
“Sea, as in, deep-blue sea?” I ask confused, picking at a loose piece of the label on my bottle.
“No, as in the letter C.”
“What’s it stand for?” I question, looking toward the ceiling, trying not to lose my patience at how he is making me pry the information out of him.
“Don't know.” He shrugs. “She put her number in my cell phone and the contact’s name just reads C.”
“You fucking her?” I ask, looking him dead in the eyes.
“No, but not from the lack of trying!” He chuckles, squirming in his chair.
So, he's trying.
“I've never seen her before. How long has she been working for Roscoe?” The only dealer in town I know of, he’s very particular about who has drugs and nobody but him is allowed to push them.
“She doesn't work for Roscoe,” he answers, turning to look away from me. Nobody in this small town deals without Roscoe’s approval. Billy accepting drugs from her is just painting a bigger target on her naïve back.
“What!?” I nearly shout, sitting up in my chair. “Does Flynn know you stop dealing with Roscoe?” I continue.
“No,” he replies regretfully, still not looking at me.
“Fuck, Billy, we got enough shit going on with that asshole. We don't need to give him a reason to be pissed off at us.”
“It's just weed, Linc. I don't think buying an ounce of weed somewhere else is going to make him turn on us,” he argues.
