Page 27 of Shattered

I half expect her to hit me with another leg joke, but she doesn’t.

Sunshine: I’m not a fucking prostitute. The video?

Asher: I won’t leak it tonight, you have my word. Now shut up and rest.

Sunshine: Asshole.

I ignore that.

After a while, the gears begin turning. I need to make a move with the house, but I have no idea how to go about it. I can’t paint. Nothing is easy anymore. I’m not asking Bane for help; he’ll be busy with the shop opening, and he’ll end up pushing the house project aside, and I wanna hit Sunshine hard.

I do a little digging to see if there are any homemakers in this little town, and I find the info for exactly one:Neela’s Home Design.I’m guessing it’s the same Neela I met this afternoon. If I ask for her help, she’ll probably tell me to get bent. I’m not wasting my breath. After more searching, I find another in Madison, and email a guy named Morgan. I tell him I want to turn the exterior of my house into Halloween: the blackest paint he can find, skulls, bones, spiders, anything creepy.

After that’s taken care of, I watch Sunshine’s video again. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. As she starts to undress, unwrapping those tiny tits, I remember how much I stimulated them while I was tattooing her. Would I do that to any other client? No way in fucking hell. But Sunshine? Those nipples of hers are sensitive, and any time I’d even brush against them, they’d harden, and her breathing would pick up just a bit. Not enough to be obvious, but enough that when I looked, I noticed. Her cheeks were so flushed.

My cock hardens in my pants, and I yank them down, palming at my stiff cock. I stroke it at an even speed, watching her undress and flaunt her goods over the video. Her pretty little cunt looks so fucking good, smooth and soft. I almost want to kiss it.

Before I’d bite that clit.

God, the things I’d do to Sunshine. I’d strap her down to my bed so she can’t move an inch and shove a gag in her mouth so she can’t run it like the little bitch she is. Would I make her feel good? Sure. Only before I’d make her scream, maybe even cry.

The thought of pretty little Sunshine helpless and crying does me in, and my cock empties over my chest. I grab my shirt beside me and wipe myself off, tossing it on the floor.

As the video finishes, I’m reminded of a detail bothering me. She mentions Koa. I haven’t heard of it, but I have a funny feeling I knowwhat it is, and I’m a little surprised it’s taken me until now to look it up.

When I search for the name, it leads me to a basic website. It’s all black and plain, with limited words. All it says is Koa—Alton Nightlife, with a phone number, a link to some forums, and no name. I can’t get on the forums without making an account, so instead of going to the trouble, I decide to call the number. To my surprise, I instantly recognize the voice, based on his hello. He has a very distinct, gravelly voice.

“Turner?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Asher, from the hardware store.”

“Hey, man. What can I do for you?”

I could tell him the truth, that I was looking around online and found the website, but I have an opportunity here to fuck with Sunshine even more, and I’m not about to give that up.

“I hope you don’t mind; Lila gave me your number. She was telling me a little about Koa.” I’m still not sure I know what this is, but I’m hoping he doesn’t realize that.

“Not at all. Are you looking to join?”

“Yeah. I forgot to ask Lila, though, is there anything you need from me?” I ask, baiting him for more information.

“For new members, I need a police check and STD panel.”

Bingo, right on the money. “Easy. Could I stop by to grab some more info from you sometime?”

“Yeah, of course. Come on by tomorrow; I’ll text you my address. Bring Lila if you’d like.”

“Thanks man, I’ll be seeing you.”

But I certainly won’t be bringing Sunshine.

The next day, I head to Turner’s place around noon. His property is enormous, and the house is huge. I follow the driveway to the back, to a makeshift parking lot, and park near a shiny black car and a red buggy.

As I slip out of my car, using the roof like usual, I consider whether I need a higher vehicle. I take a minute to let my leg sort its shit out before I head up the walkway and knock on the door.

Turner answers a moment later with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looks tired as shit with his sunken eyes.

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