Chapter 13
up of girls giggled with a suggestive tone “It’s barely dusk and you’re already darting. upstairs. You can’t wait, can you?”
The girl in the miniskirt flushed with a bashful grin. “Stop it, guys!”
Her voice was soft and sweet, so pleasing that even Leanne thought it was pleasant to the ear.
Curtis removed the cigarette from his lips, revealing hands that spoke of a life of leisure, sinewy and refined, his fingers as pristine and noble as carved ivory.
He tapped the half-smoked cigarette in a dark grey crystal ashtray, the ashes tumbling into it, and let out a short, husky chuckle.
He was the epitome of nonchalance.
“I’m not paralyzed. I don’t need help to go to bed.”
Joy’s temper flared again. “Being paralyzed is a good idea.”
Pretending not to hear Curtis flirting, Leanne focused on shelling pistachios, “Don’t go cursing him. If he ends up paralyzed, I’ll be the one stuck looking after him.”
Joy thought it over, then said, “Let the upper half of his body paralyze then!”
“What’s that supposed to be? A brain injury?”
Joy snorted coldly, “A walking dick.”
Leanne stuffed a handful of nuts into Joy’s mouth, “Would you just shut up?”
Skyler brought them each a bee. Leanne glanced up and muttered a thanks.
Skyler leaned in and explained in a low voice, “We’ve got a bunch of guys here tonight. We didn’t want you and your friend to feel uncomfortable, so we didn’t call you earlier.”
Leanne’s clear and bright eyes met his, and she smiled, “Understood.”
It was common knowledge that the rooms upstairs were for those who had too much to drink and wanted to unwind in the company of a beautiful lady.
Her presence certainly made things less convenient.
Her
gaze was so calm and intense, it nearly made Skyler feel bare.
At that moment, that “miniskirt” girl inched closer to Curtis, her ample bosom nearly brushing against his arm:
“Mr. Curtis, I’ve got a concert next week. Are you free to come and listen?”
So, she was an up-and-coming singer.
11-14
Chapter 13.
Leanne thought to herself, it’s no surprise that her voice was so captivating.
“Ugh!” Joy exaggerated a gag next to Leanne. “think I am about to throw up.”
Leanne, usually slow and steady, suddenly dodged with unexpected agility, lifting her feet off the ground. “Don’t puke on me.”
Curtis’ voice was casual and teasing. “I’m allergic to music.”
The young singer pouted, “Maybe if you listen to me sing, you’ll be cured.”
Joy couldn’t stand it. “What do you think you are, an ultrasound machine? Soundwaves curing illnesses? If you’re that good, why not donate your vocal cords to a hospital?”
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