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March 2016

Vance

“You good?”

She looks up fro with her teeth pressed to her lip “Yeah” The word is a purr Her eyes are still glazed as they look et your number?”

I’ht—so much so that I don’t realize she asked a question until her freckled cheeks blush “Only while we’re on the cruise, if you want, but…” She does that little laugh—the aard one that women do when they’re self-conscious

“But you want my number” I arch my brows

Another giggle “Sort of”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

She straightens her shoulders,her little tits jut out “How old do you think?” Her voice has gone all sexy-hoarse again, but she can’t keep the smooth seductress act up She stails hteen years old

“Twenty-two,” she says “Just an office er fro the island hut feel ser traces my pec “What do you do, cowboy?”

Huh? Oh, right I earing a straw hat back on the cata

I run a hand over the soft ertips “You”

I give her a nuh-pitched, you’re-so-crazy kind of laugh—as her brown eyes rove over tails in one hand, lifts them off her sun-kissed shoulders Then she kneels before me on the hard-packed sand floor

She tilts her chin up at h, the thought is like a pep talk Fuck her, Van Just fucking fuck her already, and get it over with

I reach for the tequila bottle on the scarred wooden table, tip it back, and take a long pull

Just fuck her…