Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Spill it,” Ben orders, turning back to face me.
“What?” I question, playing dumb.
“Where were you last night?” he asks.
“Well, um,” I stammer, looking at my feet.
“Holy shit, you did it!” Jenna yells. Ben and Parker look at each other, then to me, then to Jenna. “You fucked the hot biker,” she shrieks.
Ben and Parker now look back to me, their eyes are wide, looking for confirmation or denial of the statement.
“Well, yeah,” I squeak. Ben's face falls. He's not as excited as Jenna, but it makes sense, he is like my brother.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, hugging me.
“Of course,” I reassure him. Jenna pushes Ben out of the way and hugs me, jumping up and down, then stands back looking at me like I should somehow look different.
“Jesus, Jenna, you would think you were the one who got laid.” Parker laughs. He walks over and clasps Ben’s forearm as if to comfort him. Then he gives me a gentle hug and small smile and says, “Well, come sit down and tell us all about it.” I spend the next hour answering all their questions, but not going into the details. Jenna's questions consisted more on the physical act. Did you come? Did he go down on you? Did you go down on him? How many times did you do it? How big was his cock? Ben and Parker asked more emotional questions, which I expected from my brotherly friends. Was he nice? Did he spend the night? Does he want to see you again? I answer all of their questions, the answer on how big his cock was came with disbelieving looks when I spread my hands out, showing them how big it is.
“Okay, well, we got to get to work,” I say, the visual memories they are giving me are making me squirm in my chair, and I'm gonna have to go find Linc and fuck his brains out if this doesn't stop.
Jenna heads off to work. Ben and Parker head up front to open the shop
back up and organize all the flower shop orders. I sneak to the back and get the marijuana for Jess, Sam, and Dingo together while they are busy, stuffing it in my gym bag. I sneak it out to the delivery van and stuff it under the front seat when they come to the warehouse to start making the arrangements for the shop orders. Returning from the van, I make up three cancer patient vases I need to deliver as well. It's another hour before Ben and Parker have the van packed with the deliveries. I deliver all the arrangements and the cancer patients’ vases first. Then head to the car wash where Jess works.
“Hello,” I say to the secretary, walking into the office. She is a thin girl with blond hair cut into a short bob. Judging by the way her boobs are spilling over the top of the red V-neck shirt she is wearing; I would guess it to be least two sizes too small. She's filing her nails and popping her gum like she is bored to death. She doesn't acknowledge my greeting, so I ask, “Jess here?”
“Out back,” she sighs.
“Okay, thanks,” I say, walking to the door that reads Employees Only. Going along the corridor with glass walls, I watch as the big brushes whirl soap over a car that is being carried along the tracks of the automatic wash system. Heading out the back door, I spot Jess, who is a tall, thin guy with fair skin, his dark straight hair is windblown and messy, but it suits him. He has black-rimmed glasses that make him look like he belongs behind a computer rather than a shammy cloth. He looks up and sees me coming, a big smile spreads across his face as he stands up.
“Hey, wow, that's a pretty car,” I say, looking at the red BMW he is drying. “Yep, rich fuckers get all the good shit.” He laughs and then continues, “You parked out front?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, well, I'll walk with you back out there. I need a break anyway.”
“You look nice today,” he says as we walk back inside, heading to the front door.
“Thanks, Jess,” I respond politely.
Going back into the office, the secretary doesn't acknowledge us, she is still filing her nails and popping her gum.
“I'll be right back, Kelsey,” Jess informs as we walk past her.
“Uh huh,” she mutters, not taking her eyes off her nails. Jess shakes his head, and we head to my car.
“That has to be the dumbest bitch God ever put breath in,” he says laughing.
“You better check on her, the way she is filing those nails, she’s gonna hit skin soon...she knows to stop if she sees blood, right?” I ask, looking over my shoulder back toward the office.
“Fuck, who knows,” he answers. We get in the van, and I get out the zip of The Fonz, named that ’cause the only sound you can make after smoking it is “Aayyy.” Handing it to him he opens it and takes a whiff.