Page 31 of The Drag Race Debutante & the Detectives
The local police had been given a heads-up about the race too, and asked to minimise their presence where possible. So far, so good with only one patrol car driving by in the last hour. Which meant they were just waiting on the douchebag with delusions of grandeur to make his move and get this race on the road.
“Um, hello.” A trio of young women approached them while they waited.
“What do you want?”
“Don’t be rude.” Emily scowled up at him, then smiled at the girls. “Sorry about him. He’s a grumpy bugger. What’s up?”
One of the young ladies glanced cautiously at him and Dane, before speaking to Emily. “Ah, we just wanted to say good luck, and that we hope you win.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, of course we do.” The older girl in the trio thumbed over her shoulder at the mostly male crowd. “These guys never take us seriously as drivers. It’d be really cool if someone made them change their tune.”
Emily’s smile lit up the night. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, then shook their hands. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”
“No probs. Good luck.”
“See?” she said, as the girls moved on to the next car. “No need to be rude. Not everyone at these things is a terrible person.”
No. Many of them are victims. But he kept the thought to himself and kissed her temple instead. His sweet girl needed to focus on the race and not the plight of others.
That was his job.
Eventually Shane made his way over to them, his brother and groupies in tow, all of them grinning like idiots. “You showed up.”
Emily folded her arms over her chest. “You didn’t think I’d come?”
Dane snorted. “He’s gunna wish you didn’t.”
“On the contrary,” Shane said, sliding his slimy gaze from the top of Emily’s head to the tips of her sneakers and back again, lingering on her breasts. “I love a bitch who comes when I tell her to.”
Just like the night before, the crowd made stupid wooing noises in an attempt to keep the smack talk going. And just like the night before, the urge to rip Shane Spencer’s throat out had Eric taking a step forwards, but to everyone’s surprise, Emily started laughing.
She nudged him and Dane. “What did I tell you?” She tilted her chin at Shane. “Small dick energy.”
The young women they’d spoken to earlier burst out laughing, as did several others, including Detective Cross, who had worked his way to the front of the gathering. The laughter eased Eric’s tension just enough to stop him from doing anything stupid.
Shane smiled but there was no humour in it. “When it comes to small dicks, I guess you’re the expert.”
Again Emily shocked him, this time by reaching down and grabbing the front of his jeans. He was already semi-hard just from being in her presence, and would bet good money his brother was too, but feeling her small hand cup his balls before rubbing his shaft through the soft denim sent a spike of arousal to his brain and made his dick as hard as steel.
Then Emily moulded the denim around his cock, showing off his shape and size, and said, “You tell me, ladies, do I look like the small dick expert?”
Multiple women leered at Eric and Dane and made appreciative noises, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Detective Cross laugh and take a photo.
Great.
Leaning into her ear, he growled, “Kitten.” It was meant as a warning.
One she ignored when she smiled up at him, gave him another squeeze, and whispered, “Just go with it.”
Glancing at Dane, Eric shook his head. His brother had folded his arms over his chest and was rocking his hips forwards, blatantly pressing his cock into Emily’s grasp while grinning at their prey. Eric cleared his throat to get Dane’s attention.
“Yeah, like I’m ever going to tell our girl not to touch my dick.” Dane shot him his best “are you stupid?” look. “I mean, come on.”
They’ve both lost their damn minds.
“How about we stop measuring our dicks and get this show on the road,” Eric said.
