Page 109 of The Import Slot
Christ, is that how desperate he’s become? She turns around, and I admit, I have a quick peek at her ass, but it’s nowhere near as fine as Jen’s.
“At least you’re setting your sights away from Rochelle,” Danny says.
“Well, that was a fucking nightmare, wasn’t it?” Bettsy says. “Who’ve you got your eye on then, Prez?”
“I’m not interested. I’ve told you before.”
“Oh yeah, right, you and Jen.”
Where is Jen anyway? I glance around, trying to spot her. We’ve been having the most delicious morning sex, and evening sex and I swear to God, if she said now she didn’t want to come back to Canada with me, I’d stay put; I can’t get enough.
The large hall has enormous tables laden with crisp white tablecloths: red velvet chairs surround them. There’s a load of fairy lights, balloon arches, and a pack of giggling ladies, but no Jen. It’s all pretentious, to be honest, not my scene at all, and at the earliest opportunity, I’m going to bail.
Bettsy, Danny, and I stand against the back wall, beers in hand, mine zero-percent because the last thing I want is to feel rough for morning skate.
They organised it the night before the game to prevent the guys from drinking too much. But, I have doubts that will actually work.
Vicky and Lisa chat while walking around the room, pointing at things. Then, Vicky tests the microphone on the stage before she gives a speech about how grateful they are to have us all here, how much money they’ve raised for charity, yadda yadda yadda. Then she points in my direction, making a fuss, and everyone applauds. I give a bashful wave and swig my beer.
Vicky and I are okay now, after her outburst during the practice session I had with Scottsy—she apologised, and I accepted because what’s the point otherwise?
I pull my phone out and check my messages, nothing from Jen, so I ping her.
Ryan:Where are you?
She doesn’t reply straight away.
“What’s up with you?” Danny asks.
“Do you know where Jen is?” I ask.
“You’re obsessed, man.” Bettsy rolls his eyes at me.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance down at it.
Jen:I’m in Room 227. Think you can get away?
I glance around. This evening’s shindig is held at a hotel in the city, but I didn’t know Jen was planning on getting a room.
“How long until dinner?” I ask no one in particular. Danny glances at his phone to check the time.
“Fifteen,” he says.
That’s enough time for me. I’m out the door, heading to the lobby and calling for the elevator before anyone can stop me. I hit the button for the second floor and pace the elevator as it rides up.
The door flies open as soon as my knuckle raps on the hardwood. Jen stands there with a red-wine-coloured dress down to her knees. Her tits look incredible as it pushes her cleavage up, and her hair is down, swept to the side.
“Hey,” she says.
“You look fucking delicious,” I say, stepping in and closing the door behind me.
“I have a surprise for you,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. I already had a semi, but my dick is straining in my dress pants by the time our lips meet.
“What’s my surprise?” I ask, my mouth still pressed against hers.
She tastes like bubbles, and her perfume intoxicates me.
She pulls me to the bed and sits me down on the edge before spinning to face away from me.
