vanished.
“Did I tell you that my niece here has an internship lined up with the New Yorker?”
Nolan was chatting up a man in a suit, a pit boss, and I almost missed his casual reference to me. I smiled as the dealer placed two face cards in front of me. After the win, I left my $50 bet up and stacked the two green chips I’d won on top before adding another pair. Nolan went on to describe how I had major publishing houses fighting over me, trying to convince me to leave school early to kick my writing career into high gear. All the while, the blizzard had moved indoors and taken the form of picture cards. I couldn’t cram chips into the little circle in front of me fast enough. Meanwhile, Nolan was casually tossing out a chip or two, winning, but cautioning the table that he was “slowing down since the dealer’s luck was bound to change and he wanted to stay ahead of it.”
I was giddy as my chip count doubled and nearly tripled. Nolan was regaling the MontBleu staff with tales of my modeling jobs in New Guinea, and no matter what I did, I won. Suddenly, Nolan took a look out the window and warned that he thought the clouds looked like snow again, that he thought it best to get out before he and his “niece” got snowed in and lost it all back.
Reluctantly, but trusting Nolan, I colored up my chips and walked to the cashier, my initial stake of $9,500 now sitting just shy of $27,000. Was there anything at which Nolan Weston didn’t excel?
“Modeling? In New Guinea?” I asked as we walked.
“That’s the secret to lying. Make it something the other person wants to believe, that they need to believe, and they’ll buy it. And with your body, every man in here wishes he could see you on a beach in a bikini. Sell that kind of sizzle, and it doesn’t even matter if there’s a steak or not.”
I rolled my eyes, but being complimented by Nolan Weston put a little extra spring in my step. He definitely wasn’t just “telling me what I wanted to hear.” There was nothing deceptive about his body and what it did to mine.
Sixteen
As soon as Michael had driven away and we were inside the house again, I was back in Nolan’s arms. It’d been so hard to be close to him in the car, in the sub shop, walking near the lake, gambling at a casino, and not touch him. Now that I’d had Nolan, I couldn’t get enough. Especially when I had no idea how long this could last.
For now, the secrets of The Hunt Group were forgotten. Mr. Weston was back in my life for a moment, and I needed to be taught as much as possible.
We went to my room this time, where he slowly peeled off my clothes until I was wearing nothing. I lay back on the bed and watched him slowly undress himself.
He was hard already. Again.
I stared in disbelief. “How can you… do you just pop Viagra all day?”
“The company that makes Viagra would go out of business if every man had a woman who looked like you in his bed,” he replied, climbing up on top of me.
“You’re amazing,” I said out loud. “I don’t know how I can ever live without this again.”
“Without what?” he asked, that charming smirk across his lips again.
“Without this,” I said, kissing him hard, my arms wrapped around his shoulders as he slid inside me, filling me up with all I needed and wanted.
The pleasure of sex with Nolan was something I could never have put any sort of adequate emphasis on. When I say it was beyond what words can convey, I mean it. I’d never understood the hype of sex. Now I did. I’d just never had it with the only man I was meant to share my body with.
Nothing could take the place of something like that.
He beckoned to me with his body, pulling sensations out of me that I thought were legend.
I’d learned so much from him already. Like that I was easy to climax, that I liked to be kissed behind my knees, and that I had a sensitive spot deep inside me that only he could reach. I’d been a girl before I met Nolan. In just
“Did I tell you that my niece here has an internship lined up with the New Yorker?”
Nolan was chatting up a man in a suit, a pit boss, and I almost missed his casual reference to me. I smiled as the dealer placed two face cards in front of me. After the win, I left my $50 bet up and stacked the two green chips I’d won on top before adding another pair. Nolan went on to describe how I had major publishing houses fighting over me, trying to convince me to leave school early to kick my writing career into high gear. All the while, the blizzard had moved indoors and taken the form of picture cards. I couldn’t cram chips into the little circle in front of me fast enough. Meanwhile, Nolan was casually tossing out a chip or two, winning, but cautioning the table that he was “slowing down since the dealer’s luck was bound to change and he wanted to stay ahead of it.”
I was giddy as my chip count doubled and nearly tripled. Nolan was regaling the MontBleu staff with tales of my modeling jobs in New Guinea, and no matter what I did, I won. Suddenly, Nolan took a look out the window and warned that he thought the clouds looked like snow again, that he thought it best to get out before he and his “niece” got snowed in and lost it all back.
Reluctantly, but trusting Nolan, I colored up my chips and walked to the cashier, my initial stake of $9,500 now sitting just shy of $27,000. Was there anything at which Nolan Weston didn’t excel?
“Modeling? In New Guinea?” I asked as we walked.
“That’s the secret to lying. Make it something the other person wants to believe, that they need to believe, and they’ll buy it. And with your body, every man in here wishes he could see you on a beach in a bikini. Sell that kind of sizzle, and it doesn’t even matter if there’s a steak or not.”
I rolled my eyes, but being complimented by Nolan Weston put a little extra spring in my step. He definitely wasn’t just “telling me what I wanted to hear.” There was nothing deceptive about his body and what it did to mine.
Sixteen
As soon as Michael had driven away and we were inside the house again, I was back in Nolan’s arms. It’d been so hard to be close to him in the car, in the sub shop, walking near the lake, gambling at a casino, and not touch him. Now that I’d had Nolan, I couldn’t get enough. Especially when I had no idea how long this could last.
For now, the secrets of The Hunt Group were forgotten. Mr. Weston was back in my life for a moment, and I needed to be taught as much as possible.
We went to my room this time, where he slowly peeled off my clothes until I was wearing nothing. I lay back on the bed and watched him slowly undress himself.
He was hard already. Again.
I stared in disbelief. “How can you… do you just pop Viagra all day?”
“The company that makes Viagra would go out of business if every man had a woman who looked like you in his bed,” he replied, climbing up on top of me.
“You’re amazing,” I said out loud. “I don’t know how I can ever live without this again.”
“Without what?” he asked, that charming smirk across his lips again.
“Without this,” I said, kissing him hard, my arms wrapped around his shoulders as he slid inside me, filling me up with all I needed and wanted.
The pleasure of sex with Nolan was something I could never have put any sort of adequate emphasis on. When I say it was beyond what words can convey, I mean it. I’d never understood the hype of sex. Now I did. I’d just never had it with the only man I was meant to share my body with.
Nothing could take the place of something like that.
He beckoned to me with his body, pulling sensations out of me that I thought were legend.
I’d learned so much from him already. Like that I was easy to climax, that I liked to be kissed behind my knees, and that I had a sensitive spot deep inside me that only he could reach. I’d been a girl before I met Nolan. In just
Similar Books
