Page 9 of Fate's Dice

I wonder what she looks like with curls.

She's wearing red converse with black jeans and a loose band t-shirt with a denim jacket over top.

To the world, she's not wearing anything extraordinary, but to me, she looks like a fucking model.

She looks like a girl who takes care of her body. She has perfectly flared hips with a tight stomach and full breasts, but it's her face that drew me in more than anything else.

Her light brown eyes have a blue ring around the irises, and it's so unique that I sank into them with no effort.

I see her make it to the seventh level and watch her barge into the apartment, her mother must've told her I just left because she rushes back out and looks around the parking lot.

Quickly, I pull out my phone and text her.

Me:See you later, beautiful.

I watch her hastily pull her phone out and read it. Keeping my eyes on her, I see her lips curl up into a smile that has me wanting to fill them with my cock.

Dice:Not in this life, poindexter.

Ah, yes, this girl has me hooked. I'm definitely going to be putting that mouth to good use. And soon.

Turning the car on, I pull out of the lot and head to a chop shop to get this car torn down so it can never lead back to me.

Next time I see Dice, it'll be in my Mercedes. Hopefully, with her bent over the seat and my name dripping from her lips.

Gripping myself through my pants, I shake my head, “I’m completely fucked.”

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