Текст книги "HATE Sex"

Автор книги: Billy Storm

Соавторы: Sidda Lee Rain
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

She gags repeatedly, but I don’t slow down. Fuck if I can, fuck if I want to. I picture Skye on her knees with my dick in her mouth, and that has me on fire. I can’t get enough; I can’t fuck her mouth fast enough. Every time she gags, her throat squeezes me, and I swear it’s that and the thought of another woman that gets me off. Fuck, I can’t even remember what this chick looks like with my eyes closed…I only see her, I only see Skye.

I don’t know why I say it, but I do. “Are you wet? That pussy getting wet as I fuck your face and picture someone else?” That did it. I feel her stiffen, and I know I’m a sick fuck as I pump so hard and fast the metal legs of the desk screech as they slide on the floor. Pushing as deep as she’ll take me, I shoot my come down her throat. Skye’s name on my lips as I hear Melissa choking on my jizz. Choke on it, gag on my cock, gurgle my come, and know it wasn’t for you.

She might have approached me, and she might’ve thought this would end differently, but I’m pleased I got what I wanted, what she offered. Yeah, she’ll have to deal with that fact later when she’s at home, hating me with a king-size chocolate bar.

Melissa let my spent and softening dick fall from her mouth. When I see my come running down her chin, I can’t help but think it looks wrong. I came in the wrong mouth and with the wrong female, but my dick isn’t as picky as my head, apparently.

“What in the fuck was that?” she practically yells at me as she wipes her mouth and chin with the tissue I hand her from the box on my desk. See, I’m not a total dickhead.

Without looking up from where I clean myself up with another tissue, I shrug and say it as simply and as honestly as I can. “That was me giving you what YOU wanted and what I needed. That’s what that was, sweetheart.”

I look up when she throws the balled up tissue against my chest. “You are an asshole!” She yells and I laugh, I fucking laugh.

An asshole, huh? Skye was right. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

**Skye**

Feeling much better than I did last night, I dance around my apartment like one of my girls on the pole. Even I shake my head at that idea. I know my limitations after all. Now, don’t get me wrong I’ve never lacked for male attention. Plenty of guys are attracted to bigger girls—no joke.

I’ve been hit on at the club more times than I can count. But there I know I just may be their last hope for pussy after a night of watching gyrating bodies that they really desire. Not my deal. Not my problem and not interested. The last thing I need is to be some kind of consolation prize. Screw that nonsense. I’m thick, I’m fat—whatever, but I’m not desperate.

Whoever said a fat girl couldn’t be sexy was sadly mistaken. I work around damn near perfect bodies, so it was only natural I fought my own feelings of inadequacies. But I’ve conquered them. I was sick of hating the woman I am, rather the woman I was. It was a choice I decided to make, a choice to accept myself as I am. Whoever doesn’t like it can literally kiss my fat ass. Cranking the volume up, I get lost in the music, lost in the sensual feel the low bass gives me. I make my way down the hall and into my room as I shimmy and shake what my mama gave me. About all she ever gave me.

Saturday nights are the busiest at Pinkies and my best tip night. Rummaging through my closet, I slide one hanger after another draped in black fabric. Black is slimming, right? That’s bull, but it’s what I love so I let myself be clothed in the delusion.

Four hours later, I’m two and a half hours into my first shift and I’ve already made more in tips than half of what I make at the diner in a week. Hopefully, soon enough I can quit my job there, but for now, I’ll suck it up. Four more payments and my car is mine clear and free, paying off the five-year loan in just under three years. My only debt will be in the home I’m buying and that payment is doable. Unlike my mother, I will never rely on a man, ever. I’m creating my destiny—not just falling into it. That I refuse to do.

“Miss? Miss?” I hear over my shoulder; duty calls. Without even looking at the man who called, I mindlessly walk to his table and ask for his drink order: seven-seven on the rocks. My thoughts aren’t on my job today. Instead, I’m running through my checklist, everything I need to do before the big moving day. Even without my family around next Saturday, I know there will be a crew at my door. Friends fill in where family falls short. And, they do so outta choice rather than obligation.

“Sunny? Darlin’?”

Looking up, I see Nate behind the bar looking at me. “Sorry, what, Nate?” He motions toward my tray and for the first time I see he’s already filled the few drink orders I’d taken. “Whoa. Where did I go, huh?”

His eyes show his concern before his heavy hand settles over mine on the shellac bar top. “You okay, Sunny?”

I know my smile is weak, but I still give him one. “I’m fine—just thinking.”

“You’ll be fine; I know it. You’re ready for this.” He winks at me. “I’ll be there Saturday before my shift starts at four and I’ll bring a friend who has a truck. We’ve got this, no worries.”

I mouth a silent thank you when the music starts back up and the bass practically blows me over. This song always bowls me over, but I want to deliver my orders so I can watch Eden dance. She reminds me that there’s an art form here, an athlete mixed with an artist. She’s always been so much more than a naked girl on the stage.

I drop off the two drink orders without a hitch. Mr. Seven-Seven doesn’t go quite as smoothly. “What’s your name, sugar?” He asks me as I set his drink down on the cardboard coaster in front of him.

“It’s definitely not sugar, I’ll tell you that.” I’m used to the flirting, and I’m not bad at it myself, but I’m far from in the mood. “Sunny.”

He leans forward pointing to his ear and asks for my name again. For the first time, I look at him. Oh. My. God. He is one beautiful man. Piercing green eyes, full lips but not to big either, buzzed hair and a day’s growth of beard dusting his jaw. Mercy. Unlike before, he has my full attention now.

Bending closer, I say my name again, and I feel him shudder when I speak against his ear.

“Sunny?” he asks to be sure, and all I can do is nod. “Sunny, huh?” When he turns to face me, I see he lets his eyes brush over me. Across my face, down to my ample chest, then, he continues until he hits my shoes before he speaks again. “You’re not gonna tell me your real name are you, beautiful?”

I’d be okay if he wanted to call me beautiful instead of my name, my fake name.

Shaking my head at his question, he smiles. “I didn’t think so.” Extending his hand, I shake it as he stands up. This time he puts his lips against my ear. “I’m Rhett, and that’s my real name, but you can call me whatever you like and I’d bet I’d still answer, beautiful.” I’m positive that my eyes rolled back into my head when he rubbed his stubbled cheek across mine before taking his seat again.

“Everything okay here, Sunny?” Cal asks as he approaches the table. The only response that I’m capable of is to smile and nod. The man had turned me into some kind of fucking bobble head.

“How you doing, Cal?” Mr. Seven-Seven knows my boss? “Remember me?” I watch as Cal’s face lights up like the Fourth of July.

“Rhett? Rhett Baxter? Is that you, you sorry sonuva bitch!” Cal practically tackles the man. The two did that weird man hand grab hug thing that only men do before sitting back down. “Sunny, I want you to bring Rhett anything he wants, and it’s on the house.”

Just as I’m about to agree, Rhett speaks. “I’m not sure that’s possible, Cal.”

“And why the hell not?” My boss looks from Rhett then back to me. I’m clueless, and all I can do is shrug.

“See the thing is, Cal, what I want is this beauty’s name and her number.”

I’m not sure if Cal or Rhett’s smile is bigger when they both look up at me standing there like a freaking idiot not knowing what I should do next. “Sunny.’ I hear Cal tell him…again.

“Cal, you forget who you’re talking to here. I want her real name.”

Cal shakes his much-gelled head as he bellows his laughter. “That’s up to her, Rhett, up to her.” When Cal pulls a third chair over from a nearby table, he motions for me to sit. I am so confused about what the hell is happening, but at least I can watch the rest of Eden’s set.

I listen for a minute as the two men talk. Turns out that Rhett had worked at the club just over four years ago, leaving just before I’d been hired. Shame. He would’ve been fun to look at during work hours. When Eden’s music slows, I know she’s at the part that takes my breath every time.

Chapter Five

**Skye**

When I feel a tap on my shoulder, I turn and see Rhett just inches from my face. Where had Cal gone? I look around, and I hear him chuckling. “Something funny?”

“Yeah, you are, beautiful.”

Just because he’s annoying me, I remind him. “It’s Sunny, by the way.”

“No, no it isn’t, and I know that as much as you do…beautiful.” He does have a point there, but no way would I let him know that. “You a lesbian?” His question has me gaping at him. What. In. The. Fuck.

I’m not sure why, but I feel like I want to torment him. “That would be none of your business,” I reply. This time when he looks me over I feel it even more. I’m still unsure what his game is, but whatever the hell it is, he’s awfully good at it.

His thick finger lifts my chin before he locks those killer eyes on mine. “I’d say it is my business when I plan on taking you out.” A slow grin appears on his face, and I see how good-looking he really is. “As pretty as you are, I don’t think it’ll do either of us any good if you play for the other team.”

The man is incorrigible, yet very charming. Charming? Since when do I use words like that? Then, it hits me…fucking Disney strikes again. I’m well aware that there is no Prince Charming and don’t let myself be swept away by this good-looking stranger. No matter how much I’d love to be swept away. God, I’d really loved to be swept away.

“I need to get back to work.” Standing, I push my chair in, grab my tray, and without so much as a second glance, walk away.

Throughout the night, I kept Rhett’s seven-sevens coming until he waved me off when I asked him if he’d like another. Finally, I was into my third hour of my double shift. Why did I agree to this? Even I know I’ll do it again because well, it’s what I do, but dammit I’m allowed to complain about it.

Just when I think I’m in hell? I see Candy—yeah, she goes by Candy. How original for a stripper, huh? Anyway, talk about raving bitch. That is one woman I’d like to see fall off the pole while hanging upside down. She really thinks she shits roses and kittens. What? It’s true. Posies and puppies, better?

For the first time all night, I was thankful I’d picked up Kennedy’s shift because if I hadn’t, I’d have missed the heel of Candy’s ridiculously tall six-inch heel snapping completely off. The best part? Well, that’d have to be the part where she reached for the brass pole to save herself from falling but tragically missed by at least a foot and face planted on the stage. I’m not saying I laughed until I cried, but I am on my third tissue and my eyes are burning from my mascara.

“You are not as sweet as you look are you?” I hear over my shoulder; I already have that voice memorized…Rhett.

I turn toward him and answer the only way I can think of. “I never claimed to be sweet.” Disguising his laugh, he rubs his jaw and stares at my feet—yes, my feet. “You like my shoes or something?” I turn my toes one way then the other.

This time there was no concealing his laughter. “Yeah, maybe I do, and by the way, only sweet girls wear sneakers like those, beautiful.”

“Oh really? What am I supposed to be wearing?” I know I’m just egging him on, but for some reason, I want to. Rhett’s playful, and I like that in a man.

I watch him as he looks around the room. Searching every female in the room and examining her footwear. “Every other woman here is wearing extremely sexy high heels.”

“So they are, but have they worked over fifty-seven hours this week while wearing those sexy heels?”

I watch as what I said sinks in, and I see approval looking back at me. Not sure why I like seeing approval in Rhett’s gaze, but I do. Even though he doesn’t reply, I can’t help but continue. “I have sexy heels myself, but I only wear them when the occasion calls for them.”

Raising one dark eyebrow, he questions me. “What kinda occasion would that be, beautiful?”

I try not to let my insides quiver every time he calls me beautiful, but fuck if that’s not one of the most powerful words known to man or beast.

When I stop staring at his lips like I’m internally begging him to say that magical word again, I realize he’s staring at me. Oh crap! He’s waiting for an answer; that’s right. “Occasion to wear heels?” I ask like a complete dipshit. He nods, but I can tell by his face that he’s enjoying my discomfort all too much. I do believe it’s time to burst that bubble. “Why, sex of course. What else—“ Leaning in, I brush a fake piece of lint from his shoulder and whisper, “Rhett,” near his ear.

Did he just growl? I thought I heard a growl. I’m pretty sure he growled. Do it again.

**Rhett**

Never have I enjoyed banter like this before. At first, I thought she was just another one of those women, the kind that play games with a man, then leave him when they can no longer keep up with the trivial pursuit they started in the first place. But this? This is some of the hottest foreplay I’d ever taken part in. She knows what she’s doing, but it’s not practiced like most women using their feminine wiles to get what they want.

No, she was sincere—I’d swear by it. I heard her breath catch when I leaned in close. I can read her signs like they’re in neon lights. Quick breathing, parted lips, a fidget in her right leg that has yet to stop, white knuckles where she clenched her tray.

I don’t want to scare her off, but I don’t want to waste my opportunity with her either. I want her like I’ve never wanted a woman before. The intensity kind of scares me; I’m not going to lie. I’m sure if I told her what I wanted from her, she’d hightail it on out of there in record time. Jesus, she won’t even tell me her name. I’ve never fucked a woman whose name I didn’t know. Probably shouldn’t start the conversation with telling her I need to know her name so I know what name to call out when I come, huh? I tell you, it’s that intense.

When I first arrived at Pinkies, I sat and waited to see Cal. I worked here long enough that I knew he’d be making the rounds soon. He’s always been a sociable guy and one helluva businessman. Understanding the importance of mingling with the customers. Then, I see her. Sunshine? No, no, Sunny she calls herself. From my days behind the bar, I know that Cal tells all the girls to use a fake name, and I have no indication that she’d be any different. He’s right; the girls should use every bit of self-preservation that they can. Now, all I can think of is the two of us together. She’s played with me since she dropped off my first drink. The game is about over, and I’m not done with my new-found playmate.

She’s my type all around. Thick thighs encased in snug denim had my mind thinking just how silky soft it’d be wedged right between them. An ass that doesn’t stop, that brought my fantasy from between to behind. Those kind of hips were meant to be gripped and by big hands. I happen to have big hands. Her waist tapers in, and all I see is woman, pure and simple, woman.

I’m sure she’s used to men staring at her tits, but how could they not? Then, there are those lips. They make me lick my own just thinking of tasting them. Damn, those babies are porn star worthy. But, the one thing that almost knocked me on my ass? Her eyes. It’s as if she knows a secret that just maybe she’ll share with me, but only me. Does that make sense? I want to know her secret. I want to hear it, see it, hell I want to feel it.

Personality? That she has for days. If she’d had never given me shit, I’d enjoy the view, but I wouldn’t need her like I do right now. Sarcasm and enough sass for a lifetime of entertainment. She’s feisty, and goddamn, I love me some feisty. Feisty makes one helluva hellcat between the sheets. It’s more than that though.

I have no doubt that we would set the sheets on fire, but I see more and I want to see even more. A woman who catches my interest and holds it is a rarity. Casual sex could make it or break it. My cock may be seeking her out like a heat seeking missile, but my cock doesn’t control the launch only the hit. In other words? I need her name, her number, and a date that I can take her out on.

There’s more to her, and I’m dying to know it all. When she whispers my name in my ear, I practically blow my load. I can’t come from my own name like some kinda sicko. My imagination now has her in a pair of fuck me pumps bent over my couch.

Before I lose my shit, I try again. “I know you wear heels during sex, but I don’t know your name.” I’m positive my smile looks cocky, but I’m pretty sure I saw her lips twitch. “That just doesn’t seem right, does it, beautiful?” When she caves into the smile she’d been fighting, I know I just won the game.

“I don’t think you need to know my name because you’ll never see those shoes either.”

And there went that win. Yup, there it went—straight down the drain. Most women don’t know they hold all the cards; this one does. Which, as you probably guessed, turns me on like fucking crazy. I want her. I want her body, I want her sassy ass mouth that’s kept me hopping all night wrapped around the rebar in my pants at this very moment. Before I can say another word, she walks away—just walks away.

It’s nearing closing time, and the patrons are beginning to clear out. I talk to Cal about coming back in a few days to see about getting my old job back, at least part time. Now that I know Sunny is working here, I’m looking forward to working with her. She seems to be watching me closely for someone who has been playing so coy. When Candy comes to my table after recognizing me, I can feel her eyes on me. Candy is nothing to me—never was. Good dancer but dumber than a box of bleached blonde hair.

When she walks past my table for the twentieth time, I snag her wrist. A familiar feeling hits me when she turns and looks at me; yeah, she had her eyes on me earlier, I feel it.

“Name and number, beautiful,” I say as I hand her my phone. This could go one of two ways: either she puts her name and number in my phone or she chucks it across the room. Please don’t be the latter. When I see her sigh and start typing, I feel like strutting like the cock of the walk.

“Night, Rhett.”

Taking my phone back, I slip it into my back pocket and follow her to the bar. She hands the bartender her tray and rag as he hands her what I take is her purse and her keys. Can’t say I like the kiss she gave him on the cheek or the one he returned on hers. The asshole winks at me over her shoulder. Naw, I really don’t care for that.

When she walks away, I know she feels my eyes stroking her skin, my mouth on her flesh—even if it’s only in my head. She stops and turns as if I’d called her name. Yes, the name I still don’t have the privilege of knowing. Her eyes meet mine, and her small, hesitant smile hurts—actually physically hurts me. My throat burns, my chest is tight, my eyes sting from my unwillingness to even blink, afraid I’ll miss something from her, a cue, a sign. Goddamn, I need something from her.

Chapter Six

**Skye**

Finally, it’s moving day, and I’m so nervous I could puke. Why? I don’t know. I signed the papers on my new place last week—this is merely moving in. Although, I was nervous closing day, this is off the charts kinda nerves. I really wish I’d had my dad there when I signed. Cal looked over all the paperwork and came with me to the closing, but he’s just not my father, ya know?

Eden, Jazzmine, and Stella are already here as is David, another one of the bouncers at the club. Pinkies staff has become my family over recent years. We’ve loaded up the four cars they have between them. Waving, I watch as they leave from in front of my apartment and head toward my new home. I’m staying behind and waiting on Nate to arrive. After all, he’s bringing the friend with a truck to help haul my big stuff. Pretty much my couch, love seat, coffee table, and my bedroom furniture. That’s about all I have. Hey, years of apartment living show, okay?

I pack up my car with the cushions and such while I wait. Cranking up my iPod on the dock on the kitchen counter, I scroll until I hit my saving grace…Pink. If a girl needs a boost to her confidence and a reminder that not only men rock a set of balls…she is your girl.

Soon enough, I’m lost in the music, and I hardly notice I’ve worked up a good sweat while I toss throw pillows and cushions into my trunk and backseat. I start to sand off the excess mud that I used to fill in the nail holes that were sprinkled among my walls. I like artwork and pictures and unfortunately, my walls reflect that. Landlords however aren’t fans of the pockmarks. Independent woman and all? I got them handled.

Swinging my hips with far too much enthusiasm, I belt out the words to So What way louder than I really should. Screw it! I’m moving out—who cares if I piss off the neighbors now. Okay, okay, I’m not that much of a bitch, but I happen to know that the apartment to my left is empty, and the one to my right is home to a stoner who I’m sure is sound asleep after partying all night. He never shuts off his television and it’s loud enough that I can hear old Brady Bunch reruns half the night. Never would’ve guessed he’d be a Brady fan but whatever.

I almost fall off the couch I’m standing on as I sand away on the wall when I hear the muffled sound of an obvious male voice. Turning around, I see Nate. “Hey, there you are. What didja say?” Hopping off the couch, I walk toward him when I stop dead in my tracks. It’s him. Behind Nate, a familiar face with a smile from ear to ear looks back at me.

“I said yes, you are.”

Now, I’m even more confused. “What?”

He points to my iPod as Nate turns it down a notch or thirty. “I agree with Pink and what you were singing.” He laughs. “You’re still a rock star.”

Nate points at the man in question. “This is my bud, Rhett.”

Holy fucking shit! Ahh yeah, that’s Rhett all right. The same Rhett I met the other day.

Rhett smiles. “Mornin’, beautiful.”

Yup, same Rhett. Shit. “Rhett.” I nod as I walk to my iPod and unhook it, more for something to do than necessity.

“So, it’s Skye, huh?” he asks.

Nate’s face shows his confusion, and I can feel my own heating. Ugh, I hate when I blush. Great, now I wasn’t only busted singing with my incredibly sucky voice, but now I’m all splotchy like a twelve-year-old girl. Oh, and let’s not forget the sweat dripping down my forehead. Attractive, huh? Beautiful, my ass.

When I don’t say anything, Rhett explains to Nate. “Sunny—rather Skye and I met the other night at the club.”

“Ahh…that explains it. You didn’t tell me you knew her.”

Rhett looks me over just like he had at Pinkies before he answers, and I feel my body warm in every spot his eyes pass.

“Well, that’d be because I didn’t know Skye…I only knew Sunny. She refused to give me her real name.” The man winked at me—winked at me. “Isn’t that right, beautiful?”

Even though my body is reacting to him like firecrackers, I don’t feel the urge to cave into his smile quite so easily. “We met, yes.” Call me a bitch, I guess.

“That’s classic. Rhett here is good people, Skye.” Clapping his hands together, Nate heads for one end of my couch and directs Rhett to the other end. “Let’s roll, baby, let’s roll.”

And just like that, my furniture is loaded one piece after another. The two guys have it done in no time, and I’m thankful that Nate brought Rhett along. Talk about awkward, huh? The other day I wouldn’t give him my real name, and bam, he’s loading my mattress into the back of his Dodge Ram. Oh, sweet karma at work. Fate? No, I’ll stick with karma on this one.

“Do you mind?” Rhett says to me, and once again I’m lost. I just stare and he motions to turn around, and like a fool, I do. “Miss Bob the Builder, you’ve got some dust here.” Annnnnnnnnnd, now his hands are on my ass. On. My. Ass. Looking over my shoulder, I see the chalky white spot on my dark blue jeans. Yup, I must’ve wiped my hands after sanding the filler in the nail holes.

“And here I was worried you two wouldn’t get along.” Nate says as he walks by carrying a box out of my bedroom, laughing the entire way out the door.

Rhett’s laughter makes it hard not to smile. “You two boys are not funny, just so you know.” Swatting his hand away, his laughter becomes louder as I smile and start to walk away. I make it three feet before I’m pressed up against the kitchen counter with all six foot three of Rhett’s body pressed up against me. I say nothing as I stare into his now serious looking face. He pushes my hair out of my face, and I have the odd inclination to lean into his touch instead of away.

“I’m far from a boy…just so you know.” He actually uses my own words against me.

“I see that.” My voice is hoarse, and I clear my throat.

“Rhett.”

He’s lost me again. “What?”

“My name. My name is Rhett.” I watch as his eyes run over every inch of my face before he stays locked on my lips. I know that look, I love that look, but I’m not sure I love that look from him just yet.

“I know your name is Rhett—”

His eyes dart to mine. “I wanted to hear you say it.” Without another word, he lightly brushes his lips over mine. “I’d rather hear you scream it, but we’re on our way there.”

My eyes widen in pure shock at not only the kiss, but also his words. Can we say egotistical bastard? I know I can, but all I want to say is yes, please. There’s just something about him, and no, it’s not that he’s gorgeous. I see gorgeous all the time. Gorgeous usually leaves you broken in the end. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m sure of myself—”

I know I’m prodding the bull, but I can’t help it. “What would you say then?”

Before he answers, he rolls his pelvis forward, and I can feel he is definitely all man…all hard man. I lose my breath briefly as my hips, on instinct, push closer to him. “I’d say a woman doesn’t lose her breath if she doesn’t feel something.” The bastard has me. He’s so right that it pisses me off.

“There’s a difference in what a body wants and what a woman knows not to fuck with.”

“Fuck, huh?”

I nod.

“I like that raunchy word coming out of your perfect lips.”

I lick my lips and he groans. I feel the inside of my thighs getting warmer, and I try like hell not to rock my hips against his hard-on again. God, this man.

“Whoa! Do I need to bring the mattress back in or what?” Nate says as he walks into the kitchen and stops cold in his tracks when he sees our position.

Taking his hands off my hips, Rhett grabs the edge of the laminate countertop and makes a show of testing its strength. “No, this counter should do just fine.”

Pushing him away, I walk past Nate mumbling about in his dreams as I go. When I hear them both laugh, it makes me smile but I wouldn’t let them see that. Shit. I need some air.

**Rhett**

Once I’m in my truck and following Nate and Skye’s cars to her new place, I try to will away my rock hard erection. Dammit! The last thing I planned on was pushing her against the counter and rubbing my cock on her. But fuck if I seem to have any control around her. Skye. Finally, I know her name.

At the club, I had given her my phone to program her name and number in and she had—well, I thought she had. But, when I got home and checked my phone, I saw she’d programmed the name ‘Sunny’, which I knew was fake. Fine, I figured I’d call her Sunny, but when I tried the number this morning, all I got was Pinkies recorded message relaying their business hours and drink specials. I knew that number but I hadn’t even looked that close.

When Nate had asked me to help move one of the girls from the club, I figured we’d be hauling shit for one of the dancers. Nate had said her name was Skye…I didn’t know a Skye. I shake my head thinking of her face when she realized who was with Nate. Last person she expected, I suppose. It wasn’t like she had heard us enter the apartment either; damn music was so loud she couldn’t hear a bulldozer at the door. Walking in and seeing her sanding the wall, shaking her ass, and belting out the words was certainly entertaining and kinda hot. Chicks doing manual labor get me hot, what can I say?

The thing that gets me? Skye didn’t baulk when I pressed her against the counter. Nope, she’d looked at me like it was something she wanted and wanted bad. I’ve never really been a guy who fucks some random chick he just met, but if Nate hadn’t come in, I sure as hell would’ve tried. Although I’d never call Skye random either, something tells me there’s a lot more to her. I intend to find out what exactly, and I’d like to think I’d be in her bed soon. I laugh when I realize that the bed in question is in the bed of my truck.

I follow Nate’s red Hyundai through the gate and I stop to give the security guard my name and I watch as he writes down my name and plate number. Hmm…at least Skye is moving into somewhere much nicer than the apartment. That location wasn’t exactly in the best neighborhood. This is movin’ on up. Good for her.

Pulling up to where Nate parked his car, he motions me to pull into the driveway. I backup rather than pulling in. Skye punches in some numbers into the key code, and the garage door slowly rises. Like a trained puppy, I hop outta my truck and follow her and Nate inside.

“Furniture’s here!” I hear Stella holler. I’ve known Stella for years. Hell, she was workin’ the pole six years ago when I started bartending at Pinkies. “Rhett? Oh my God!” and in seconds I have a blonde wrapped around me. Not normally a bad thing in my book when a woman wraps her legs around your waist, however, this isn’t my choice of female for this position. Looking over the bleached blonde hair and pink velour tracksuit, I catch Skye watching. Shit. I know that look.