Read Online The Bride Takes a Powder by Jane Leopold Quinn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jane Leopold Quinn
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her?
After that and for the rest of the
afternoon and night, the bar was so busy he barely had a chance to catch his
breath. Not that the work kept him from thinking about her though. He wanted,
needed to see her again. Tomorrow he'd find out her story.
When he finally rolled into bed
well after the bar closed, he could think of little else but her and had to
give himself a hand job in order to get to sleep. It certainly wasn't the same
as sliding his ready cock inside her and feeling her hotly drenched pussy
tightly engulfing him.
It was her ass that he fantasized
about. Sitting back on his heels on his bed, lubing his cock, he pictured her
on all fours, her sweet round bottom hiked up high. He could see all of it, her
pink sex spread wide, open for him. The scent of her juices dripping from her glistening
hole would flood his mind. She'd groan, deep and wicked, begging him to fuck
her. He'd grip his shaft, wet the tip by sliding it along her open cleft. Open
and waiting. Wanting…
One hand tightly squeezing the
length of his lubed cock, the other cupping his balls, his eyes tightly closed,
hips pumping, he fucked himself. Muttering low-voiced husky pleas to be inside
her body, he spurted thick ropes of cum onto the bed and groaned her name. Now
he bent over, ground his forehead into the bed and whimpered. Falling to his
side, still grasping his sex, his last thought before sleep hit him like a
sledgehammer was, Son of a bitch. Big wet
gooey spot…
***
Sunday morning came too quickly,
too bright, and too fucking early. Mike groaned as he dragged himself out of
bed, showered, and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. He'd change the sheets later,
but right now he needed coffee. "Damn it!" The moment his hand
gripped the doorknob, he remembered his problems. First was the accusation
against him. Proving his non-involvement should be easy, because he hadn't been
involved in changing test answers, God damn it!
Second was his raging hots for Norah
Ballard. To the guys at school, she'd appeared unobtainable. Beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent at
nineteen and all we could do was slobber after her, lusting in our hearts. Now
she's in your backyard. Take!
Downstairs his parents sat at a
table in front of the big screen TV mounted on the wall next to the bar. He
greeted them with a wave before ambling back into the kitchen for breakfast.
His dad had left a big pan of scrambled eggs, sausage, and home fries in the
warming oven. He was hungry as usual, but all his stomach could handle this
morning was coffee and a piece of toast.
"That's all you're going to
have, sweetie?" the ultimate mother, asked.
"For now, yeah, Mom." He
focused his gaze back on the TV, not wanting to talk. They munched companionably
and watched the morning news out of Chicago.
"Prominent Chicago attorney
disappears though no foul play is suspected. Almost a week ago, Norah Ballard
left her home and hasn't been seen since. Her parents deny she's missing and
insist that she's fine and not in any danger. Her fiancé, attorney Garrett
Dunleith, a principle at Dunleith & Dunleith, claims he does not know her
whereabouts. Ms. Ballard disappeared on the morning she and Dunleith were to be
married."
Mike's mouth dropped in surprise,
his gaze narrowed, and shifted to his folks, their mouths also agape at what
they'd just heard.
"Is that…?" Bernice and
Ollie said at the same time.
Mike was stunned. He'd kissed, very
thoroughly kissed and more, a woman who'd run out on her wedding? On the very
day of the wedding? "What the hell!"
"Did you know this, Mike?"
his dad asked.
"No." That was all he
could say, aloud anyway. She hadn't said a word, and he hadn't asked her about
Garrett. Hadn't wanted to. He didn't give a shit about Dunleith. Now question
after question battered his mind. Why had she run away? What was going on? Her
parents say she's not missing, but he does?
She'd urged him to fight his own
problems but had run away from hers. A cold wave of anger
After that and for the rest of the
afternoon and night, the bar was so busy he barely had a chance to catch his
breath. Not that the work kept him from thinking about her though. He wanted,
needed to see her again. Tomorrow he'd find out her story.
When he finally rolled into bed
well after the bar closed, he could think of little else but her and had to
give himself a hand job in order to get to sleep. It certainly wasn't the same
as sliding his ready cock inside her and feeling her hotly drenched pussy
tightly engulfing him.
It was her ass that he fantasized
about. Sitting back on his heels on his bed, lubing his cock, he pictured her
on all fours, her sweet round bottom hiked up high. He could see all of it, her
pink sex spread wide, open for him. The scent of her juices dripping from her glistening
hole would flood his mind. She'd groan, deep and wicked, begging him to fuck
her. He'd grip his shaft, wet the tip by sliding it along her open cleft. Open
and waiting. Wanting…
One hand tightly squeezing the
length of his lubed cock, the other cupping his balls, his eyes tightly closed,
hips pumping, he fucked himself. Muttering low-voiced husky pleas to be inside
her body, he spurted thick ropes of cum onto the bed and groaned her name. Now
he bent over, ground his forehead into the bed and whimpered. Falling to his
side, still grasping his sex, his last thought before sleep hit him like a
sledgehammer was, Son of a bitch. Big wet
gooey spot…
***
Sunday morning came too quickly,
too bright, and too fucking early. Mike groaned as he dragged himself out of
bed, showered, and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. He'd change the sheets later,
but right now he needed coffee. "Damn it!" The moment his hand
gripped the doorknob, he remembered his problems. First was the accusation
against him. Proving his non-involvement should be easy, because he hadn't been
involved in changing test answers, God damn it!
Second was his raging hots for Norah
Ballard. To the guys at school, she'd appeared unobtainable. Beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent at
nineteen and all we could do was slobber after her, lusting in our hearts. Now
she's in your backyard. Take!
Downstairs his parents sat at a
table in front of the big screen TV mounted on the wall next to the bar. He
greeted them with a wave before ambling back into the kitchen for breakfast.
His dad had left a big pan of scrambled eggs, sausage, and home fries in the
warming oven. He was hungry as usual, but all his stomach could handle this
morning was coffee and a piece of toast.
"That's all you're going to
have, sweetie?" the ultimate mother, asked.
"For now, yeah, Mom." He
focused his gaze back on the TV, not wanting to talk. They munched companionably
and watched the morning news out of Chicago.
"Prominent Chicago attorney
disappears though no foul play is suspected. Almost a week ago, Norah Ballard
left her home and hasn't been seen since. Her parents deny she's missing and
insist that she's fine and not in any danger. Her fiancé, attorney Garrett
Dunleith, a principle at Dunleith & Dunleith, claims he does not know her
whereabouts. Ms. Ballard disappeared on the morning she and Dunleith were to be
married."
Mike's mouth dropped in surprise,
his gaze narrowed, and shifted to his folks, their mouths also agape at what
they'd just heard.
"Is that…?" Bernice and
Ollie said at the same time.
Mike was stunned. He'd kissed, very
thoroughly kissed and more, a woman who'd run out on her wedding? On the very
day of the wedding? "What the hell!"
"Did you know this, Mike?"
his dad asked.
"No." That was all he
could say, aloud anyway. She hadn't said a word, and he hadn't asked her about
Garrett. Hadn't wanted to. He didn't give a shit about Dunleith. Now question
after question battered his mind. Why had she run away? What was going on? Her
parents say she's not missing, but he does?
She'd urged him to fight his own
problems but had run away from hers. A cold wave of anger
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