carat, princess cut ring was just waiting at the jeweler downtown on the square. Someday he’d buy it, he promised, always stringing me along.
I loved the shit out of him. Then again, so did everyone else. Including my stepsister, Sara. He was magnetic, charming, gorgeous, and it turns out, a royal douche bag.
I flipped on the light to my hotel room, my eyes immediately honing in on a door in the middle of the wall. My room was connected to the businessman’s room. I bit my lip, my hand traveling down between my legs with the kind of the tingle and warmth only a forbidden, inhibition-free night could relieve.
A deep breath sucked in through my lips, and I closed my eyes. By the time I opened them, I found myself standing in front of the door that lead to his room. I unbolted my side and knocked.
TWO
Sawyer
Her mouth. Her juicy, plump, heart-shaped mouth. The things I could do to it if she’d only shut up for a minute. That girl rambled on at the bar, and because I had nothing better to do, I chimed in on her conversation. I wasn’t sure what planet she was from, but where I came from that didn’t equate to wanting to fuck a girl.
I smirked. She was pretty, like a small town girl who didn’t realize just how pretty she actually was compared to the rest of the world. Fuckable mouth. Hips I could grip. A nice, round ass to slap. Long, wavy blonde hair perfect for pulling. I’d bet my private jet company that she’d never fucked anyone the way I could fuck her.
But she’d never know. Physically she was my type. She was the type I craved . The type I’d cross oceans for, and I had before.
But that sassy mouth.
I removed my cufflinks and sat them on the counter by the bathroom sink, unknotting my black silk tie afterward. A light rapping on the door brought my attention out of the bathroom and directed towards a door by the dresser I hadn’t noticed before. Apparently our rooms were adjoining.
I flipped the lock and pulled the door open. Mouthy Maisie stood, coy and quiet, on the other side.
“I want to forget,” she said. Her round, aqua eyes seemed to silently plead and apologize all at the same time.
“Told you. You’re not my type.”
Her full, bottom lip pouted out. “Really?”
“Goodnight, Mouthy Maisie.” I grabbed the edge of the door and began to close it, but she reached her hand out to stop it. “Yes?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. For a split second I saw vulnerability written all over her pretty face. “Never mind.”
“You really want to forget?” I asked.
She nodded, worrying her lip.
“Sober up,” I instructed. I glanced down at my watch. It was only nine o’clock. “If you’re still up by midnight, knock on my door. I don’t fuck drunk women.”
I shut the door and stripped down to my boxer briefs, stretching out on the king sized bed and relaxing across from the drone of late night T.V. I hoped my plane would be ready by the next day. I wanted to get back to New York. The Best Western in BFE, Missouri wasn’t really doing much for me. I craved the stimulation of the bright lights and big city I called home.
I opened my eyes as an infomercial blared on the T.V. I must have fallen asleep. My eyes squinted across the bed towards the red LED alarm clock. 2:31 A.M.
Your loss, Mouthy Maisie.
I tried to fall back asleep, but it was as if she were suddenly an earworm. Stuck in my head. The fact that she turned me down the first time, when I hadn’t even offered, coupled with the second blatant disregard was like an unfamiliar slap in the face. That never happened. Women never turned me down. They threw themselves at me, and when I was done fucking them, they begged for more.
Then again, people knew me back home. Everyone in the entire Manhattan area plus all the boroughs knew I was billionaire Sawyer Thomas. Out in BFE, Missouri, I was just
I loved the shit out of him. Then again, so did everyone else. Including my stepsister, Sara. He was magnetic, charming, gorgeous, and it turns out, a royal douche bag.
I flipped on the light to my hotel room, my eyes immediately honing in on a door in the middle of the wall. My room was connected to the businessman’s room. I bit my lip, my hand traveling down between my legs with the kind of the tingle and warmth only a forbidden, inhibition-free night could relieve.
A deep breath sucked in through my lips, and I closed my eyes. By the time I opened them, I found myself standing in front of the door that lead to his room. I unbolted my side and knocked.
TWO
Sawyer
Her mouth. Her juicy, plump, heart-shaped mouth. The things I could do to it if she’d only shut up for a minute. That girl rambled on at the bar, and because I had nothing better to do, I chimed in on her conversation. I wasn’t sure what planet she was from, but where I came from that didn’t equate to wanting to fuck a girl.
I smirked. She was pretty, like a small town girl who didn’t realize just how pretty she actually was compared to the rest of the world. Fuckable mouth. Hips I could grip. A nice, round ass to slap. Long, wavy blonde hair perfect for pulling. I’d bet my private jet company that she’d never fucked anyone the way I could fuck her.
But she’d never know. Physically she was my type. She was the type I craved . The type I’d cross oceans for, and I had before.
But that sassy mouth.
I removed my cufflinks and sat them on the counter by the bathroom sink, unknotting my black silk tie afterward. A light rapping on the door brought my attention out of the bathroom and directed towards a door by the dresser I hadn’t noticed before. Apparently our rooms were adjoining.
I flipped the lock and pulled the door open. Mouthy Maisie stood, coy and quiet, on the other side.
“I want to forget,” she said. Her round, aqua eyes seemed to silently plead and apologize all at the same time.
“Told you. You’re not my type.”
Her full, bottom lip pouted out. “Really?”
“Goodnight, Mouthy Maisie.” I grabbed the edge of the door and began to close it, but she reached her hand out to stop it. “Yes?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. For a split second I saw vulnerability written all over her pretty face. “Never mind.”
“You really want to forget?” I asked.
She nodded, worrying her lip.
“Sober up,” I instructed. I glanced down at my watch. It was only nine o’clock. “If you’re still up by midnight, knock on my door. I don’t fuck drunk women.”
I shut the door and stripped down to my boxer briefs, stretching out on the king sized bed and relaxing across from the drone of late night T.V. I hoped my plane would be ready by the next day. I wanted to get back to New York. The Best Western in BFE, Missouri wasn’t really doing much for me. I craved the stimulation of the bright lights and big city I called home.
I opened my eyes as an infomercial blared on the T.V. I must have fallen asleep. My eyes squinted across the bed towards the red LED alarm clock. 2:31 A.M.
Your loss, Mouthy Maisie.
I tried to fall back asleep, but it was as if she were suddenly an earworm. Stuck in my head. The fact that she turned me down the first time, when I hadn’t even offered, coupled with the second blatant disregard was like an unfamiliar slap in the face. That never happened. Women never turned me down. They threw themselves at me, and when I was done fucking them, they begged for more.
Then again, people knew me back home. Everyone in the entire Manhattan area plus all the boroughs knew I was billionaire Sawyer Thomas. Out in BFE, Missouri, I was just
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