Page 62 of Unhinged

Christ. I can’t be this crazed about Simone Garrison, no matter how much I want in her pussy.

She’s like a rebound, as Dash was to Hadley.

She has to be.

Milt sighs but says nothing more as he leaves. Unfortunately, Monty joins me, primarily for appearances, since I do most of the work.

When a fast song plays over the speakers, Candi grabs Garrison. Because people occupy their usual table, they go to the dance floor. I lean against the bar and cross my arms. Rondo, a mailman and an ex-Marine who never fully recovered after his tour in the Middle East, says, “The new girl is hot.” I glare at him, and he laughs. “Easy there, Greg. I’m not interested. I’m just saying. I heard you kicked out Roy over her.”

“Yeah? So?”

“Good. He’s a bastard. But I will say, he’s not the only one checking her out.” He motions to people around us.

I roll my eyes but want to roll heads. “Well, if she dates them all, then that’s her problem.” And mine.

Simone glides with the music. I watch her ass sway, and her tits bounce as they torture my dick. The drunks cheering them on make me want to slam heads.

Amos stands next to me, and I want to thump his head, but for other reasons. He asks, “Do you think this is safe?”

I shrug. “Whatever.”

“These men… I don’t like the way they look at either of them.”

“They’re adults.”

“You don’t care if this may put Simone in danger?” Simone swings her little ponytail, and I want to hold on to it as I fuck her mouth.

I scoff, “Come on, Amos. Lighten up.” And get the hell out of here so I can fantasize about Garrison.

“I have to step out momentarily. Can I trust you to adhere to Monty’s direction?”

I scowl at his bloated face. “Yeah.”

“Can you promise me you won’t bother Simone?”

“Am I bothering her now?”

Amos narrows his beady eyes at me, and I roll mine before looking at Simone’s legs. I imagine being between them, and I harden despite Amos standing next to me. I mutter, “She’s not even on my mind.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says, which irritates me, so I move closer to Monty, who irritates me on his own merit.

Amos shakes his head and leaves. But taking his and Rondo’s words to heart, I go to the kitchen. The backup stereo is in the corner. Knowing a trick and finding one of Aunt Amy’s CDs, I override the jukebox song with hers.

As the music stops and then restarts with my selection, I snort. That should stop every dickhead from staring. I return to the bar, laughing, which is something I haven’t done in forever. Monty asks, “What the fuck is this shit?”

Between my laughs and watching Simone and Candi looking around, confused, I answer, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Classic. Sad song True story.” Still, I laugh as Simone and Candi return to their actual jobs and all eyes aren’t on Garrison’s ass anymore, except for mine.

“Jesus, this makes me want to run into traffic.”

“I know, right?”

“Okay, Rodwell. Get rid of it.”

“You gotta let it play. Have some respect for the dead.”

As the song near its end, I go to the kitchen and turn off the stereo, reverting to the jukebox. At the bar, I see Simone talking to some asshat like she knows him. I watch her lean onto the table, and her skirt rides up more. Fuck. She shakes her head with giggles as he laughs with her. Who is this cum stain?

Candi joins her, and it appears Garrison introduces her to the prick. My gaze falls to the curve of Simone’s ass. Not good at this moment.

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