The clump of prepsters shifted and separated, and suddenly, I was gazing at the most gorgeous girl I had ever seen in my life, glowing like a mirage on the cobblestones some ten-odd feet away.
Holy. Freaking. Fuck.
My mouth dried as I looked the brunette over, rapidly eye guzzling before she glanced over and caught me.
I had a chintzy two seconds, when what I wanted was an hour.
Hell, an eternity. That’s how fucking fine the beauty was.
Goddamn my soul, finer than fuckin’ fine…
Standing a petite five-foot pretty-much-nothing, she was sweetly stacked, rocking a jawdropping set of curves that didn’t fuckin’ quit
Aw man, check out those high, tight tits. And Christ Jesus, that ass!
She flicked back long pieces of just-outta-bed curls, black and glossy as sin.
Damn. What I wouldn’t give to sink my fingers into that silk and push that pretty head down, down, dow—
“YOU! Move it with that cart, man!”
The walrus shoved his phone away and gestured me over with a yowl; his skin blotched and sweaty, his neck bulging out of a too-small dress shirt.
I grunted and wheeled toward him, tripping over my clodhoppers as I struggled to ignore the pocket-sized wet dream painted in her pale pink jeans.
Don’t look. Do your job, slob. Don’t look.
Obeying stern mental commands was the work of the devil, and I made it maybe three steps before the woman drew my gaze to her again like a magnet. This time, she wasn’t staring sideways at the chateau, but straight ahead, directly at me.
Our eyes locked and held, and I swear to my dearly departed, I almost passed out on the pavers.
Fucking hell, her face! Those incredible, golden-colored eyes…
She blinked thick lashes and flushed, her cheeks turning the same color as her sexy jeans. I clocked her checking me out: her big eyes lingering on my chest and shoulders. Seared as if I’d been torched, my heart pounded and hot blood pooled in my dick as I swallowed, throwing her a crooked smile.
Are you for fucking real, girl?
“TODAY, man! Let’s go, look sharp!”
Walrus snapped fat fingers under my nose, and I pulled my attention away with an effort, dazed.
“Yeah, on it…” I mumbled, slicking salt off my forehead with the back of a wrist and grabbing for the closest case. The cocksucker weighed a ton, and as I hefted a rectangle of monogrammed designer leather, the dizziness swelled—little red spots swimming before me in the steamy afternoon air.
Mayday, mayday, feelin’ mighty funky.
I could use a cold glass of water and a cool cloth for my head, if any of you mofos wants to help a poor boy out…