His next move was to flag down a waitress. With a vacant smile, she floated over to the next table and pulled the same lean and gleam.īutch tilted his head back and swallowed the inch of La-gavulin left in his glass. Her total lack of reaction sealed the deal on her professional status. “Sorry, you need to go taste the rainbow somewhere else.” But he wasn’t going to be riding that double-decker. Sure as hell, she was going to make someone very happy tonight. “Well, daddy?” she said over the trippy techno music. Paid or not, this was a woman who got plenty of vitamin D and liked it. And her smile was radiant, a promise of acts done with knee pads. Her breasts were perfect, the very best money could buy. She planted her hands on the marble tabletop and leaned in toward him. The Reverend only trafficked in the best, but maybe she was a model for FHM or Maxim. It was hard to know if she was one of the club’s professionals or not. Against the backdrop of Zero-Sum’s VIP area, she was something else, dressed in white patent leather strips, a cross between Barbie and Barbarella. Butch O’Neal put his Scotch down and eyed the blonde who’d spoken to him.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |