Page 65 of Watching Mine


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I sit and fiddle with the edge of the napkin my drink is sitting on, suddenly in a very pissy mood. It does nothing to help the mounting pain in my stomach, nor the headache I feel coming on. I should be up, looking for a partner, but I’m so fucking tired. So tired of the same old shit every night.

Luckily, a few minutes later, a random guy that doesn’t smell, and clearly knows how to keep his drink in his glass, slides up next to me, grabbing my attention, and making my night a little bit easier. He seems to be nice enough, and doesn’t come off as desperate, something I can’t stand.

I lean over and rest my hand on his upper thigh, my fingers briefly grazing his cock. His eyes drop to my hand, then up to me. They instantly fill with lust, which ignites my body and the cramps intensify. I get up from my stool and grab his hand, ready to drag him from the club and have him satisfy my insatiable need.

A prickle of awareness rushes down my spine and I glance over, just as the bastard that was talking to the redhead looks my way as he heads toward the door. My breath catches as his eyes run up my bare legs to the short skirt I’m wearing. They continue to roam over the small glimpse of stomach I have exposed, to my breasts, and up to my face. The blatant desire I see there has my nipples tightening and my pussy clenching. I nearly stumble until his eyes move to the guy standing beside me, running his hand over my hip as he nibbles on my neck. The sneer is back on his face when he brings his eyes back to me, effectively washing away the desire I felt for him only seconds ago. It’s better than throwing a bucket of ice cold water on me.

I bare my teeth and flip him off. Strengthening my grip on the guy’s hand, I pull him behind me as I lead us to our table to tell the other’s good-bye. I want this night over and done with.

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