Page 29 of Ringer's Freedom

Her perfectly manicured eyebrows pinch and her nose scrunches in distaste. “You were in jail for like, what, ten years? How can you be picky?” she says pompously.

I find myself once again laughing at the stupid, arrogant girl. “Don’t be so dense. Just because I was inprisonforeightyears doesn't mean I’m going to stick my dick in the first whore that offers herself up to me.”

She rears back as if I slapped her and stomps her foot. “You don’t have to be such an asshole.”

“What’s your name?”

“Demi.”

“Word of advice for ya Demi. But first, I have a question.”

She stares at me, not offering an answer.

“How long you been hanging around here?” I ask her.

“Six months,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“Just because you have a pussy doesn't make you entitled around here. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. Don’t expect every brother in here to fall at your feet,” I proclaim before stepping around her small frame, continuing on the path to my room.

Her small voice calls out behind me, causing me to stop in my tracks and hear what she has to say. “I’m sorry. A few of the girls said you’d be interested since it’s no doubt been awhile for you. I really didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s fine, babe. Just remember that next time. You’re here because you want to be, but that doesn’t mean every guy in here has to want something from you.”

I shut myself in my room, making my way to the shower to wash off the grime of the day. I still have grease on my arms from helping my dad out in the shop, and my mouth tastes like a beer distillery.

Demi was right about one thing, it’s been a long fucking time since my dick has touched anything but my hand. Eight long fucking years, but it can wait a little longer til I get my hands on who I really fucking want.

If Demi would’ve approached me before seeing Lilah at that party, I’m not even going to lie to myself, I would have been all over that at the drop of a hat. But even at her mention of fucking tonight, my dick didn’t even twitch.

All I have to do is think of Lilah and I’m rock hard.

I’m cursing myself for offering to go to Vegas with her so quickly. If I have to share a hotel room with her without being able to touch her, I’m going to suffer from the worst case of blue balls in my life.

Fuck.

I’m going to even be stuck in the car right next to her for four hours.

Vegas is going to either fucking suck or be the best weekend of my goddamn life.

five

Lilah

Sweat dripsdown my cleavage as I lean over the open trunk of my car. “God damnit!” I curse, kicking the stupid flat tire that’s stranded me on the side of the road. The throbbing pain that shoots through my foot only adds to my frustration.

“Ow!” I groan as I hop around on one leg, holding my injured foot. It’s a good thing I never depended on these steel-toed Doc Martens to protect me from heavy things falling on my feet at the bakery.

I pull my phone out of my back pocket, irritated with myself for forgetting to plug it in once again. I roll my eyes.You’ve really fucked up this time, Lilah.

Then again, I can place some blame on Dad for this whole mess. He was supposed to replace the spare tire we had to use when I ran over a nail a few months ago. I know I should’ve been responsible and made sure to replace it myself, but this stuff is my dad’s thing. He’s the one that works on this shit for a living!

I huff and rub my temples with my fingers, trying to calm down the raging headache I can feel simmering. I can find anything to be pissed about right now. I’m blaming it all on mother nature for deciding to bless me with my pseudo-period this morning.

Oh well. At least the PMSing should be gone before I leave for Vegas in three days. Thank the Lord for birth control and stopping the spawn of satan from visiting.

Tires crunch over rock as a flashy truck pulls off the road with hazards on, stopping in front of my Charger.

A handsome man in his early thirties hops out of the truck. Once he reaches me, he pushes his mirrored Ray-Ban’s to the top of his head.

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