This all started innocently enough. I know you won't believe me now, what with me covered in enough DNA to keep a CSI team busy for a month. Let's just say, I'm not black light appropriate at present.
What just happened upstairs can be described as nothing less than a gangbang, arranged by none other than yours truly under the tutelage of her true lovin' man. I'm waiting for him now, standing in the parking garage of this upmarket hotel, looking less lobby-proper than I did a few hours before. Damn, I hope he hurries. All of this stickiness can't be good for my hair. Though I've heard it can do wonders for the skin…
Since it seems we have a few minutes to simmer in our juices, well, someone's juices at any rate, I should probably fill you in.
It really did start out innocently enough. I swear it. Up 'til now, the only DNA I spent much time worrying about was mine and that of my old boyfriend Steve's. Specifically, how to keep his and mine from mixing in some meaningful way that would result in a third.
So here I am, minding my own business and being 30. Working at a job that I neither love nor hate. Living with a man whom I neither love nor hate. Eating oatmeal every morning that I neither love nor hate. And thinking this is how it's done — the whole grown up life thing. That's when I met him. In the middle of a coffee that I was trying to love but was neither loving nor hating, if we're being honest, I noticed him noticing me. I tried not to notice him noticing me. I know you won't believe me, but I really did try not to notice.
And it might have worked had he not been so damn noticeable.
This is the part where I should describe him to you, all tall, dark and handsome with a delicious accent and a designer watch that screams bread in the bank. But that's not what gets you with this one. Maybe some of those things are true. Maybe all of them are. What gets you is the posture. The undeniable self-assuredness without the slightest hint of cockiness. He is owner, of that I have no doubt. Of what, I'm not yet sure.
A girl walks into a bar. She meets the man, only this time the coffee is Irish and his back is to the wall. Far corner booth, even though the bar is hardly half-full in the late afternoon light. It's important, he says, that no one can see over your shoulder when you're doing this kind of thing. Lesson number one…
(Link to free ebook in the comments. Reviews welcome:))
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/3ko29y/dark_web_a_bad_boy_billionaire_romance_mf_escort
http://www.amazon.com/Dark-Web-Bad-Billionaire-Romance-ebook/dp/B011TI875G/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1442069429&sr=8-1&keywords=Dark+web+j+able