Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2)

Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2) by Cherry Shephard Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2) by Cherry Shephard Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cherry Shephard
surprised he’d even have to ask such a stupid question. I’m only male, after all. “Now go on, get some pussy for the both of us. I have work to do.” He laughs as I follow him out into the main bar area. I watch as he grabs his jacket hanging on the hook behind the bar and shrugs it on. “Man, you’re missing out,” he tells me as he grabs his keys. “I hear the booty is fine at this new bar. They’ve got bitches in cages, man.”
    My cock stirs at the thought, and I remove my glasses to rub my eyes. It’s been a few weeks since it got wet and the bastard seems to have taken on a mind of its own. “I can’t,” I repeat firmly, putting my glasses back on. “Not tonight.”
    “Suit yourself,” Lance shrugs, walking over to the door as he pulls his motorcycle helmet on. “Just remember,” he says, looking back over his shoulder at me, “If the booty’s fine, take it from behind.” His laughter echoes through the bar as he slams the door closed behind him.
    I chuckle as I walk back to the office and grab my glass before returning to the bar and dumping the contents down the sink. Placing the glass on the rack ready for the dishwasher, I grab the rag I discarded earlier and proceed to wipe down the tables. The place definitely needs an upgrade; the lacquer has peeled away from the tabletops, leaving bare wood exposed. When she gets back, I really need to talk to Shannon about it. I know she’s keeping it for nostalgia’s sake, but we’re going to start losing customers if they start getting splinters.
     
    A noise from outside rouses me from my thoughts, and I look through the window to see a cab pull up in front. That must be Shannon’s sister, Natalie. I drop the rag on the table and wipe my hands on the back of my jeans as I walk over to the door of the bar and pull it open, ready to help her with her bags. But what I see when I step outside will be stuck with me for the rest of my life. The most perfectly molded ass I’ve ever seen is sticking out of the back seat of the cab as she gathers some bags from the floor. The short skirt is stretched impossibly thin, and as she reaches over even further, I glimpse a scrap of white lace and creamy flesh. My jeans grow uncomfortably tight and I resist the urge to adjust my cock in my pants. It really has been too long since it slid inside a tight pussy.
    Then I see it, so small I almost think I imagined it. Realization hits me like a bullet, and for a moment, it’s hard for me to breathe. There, just on the inside of her right thigh, is a small cluster of raised scars in perfect lines.
     
    She’s a cutter.
     
     
     
     
    Natalie
    Never indulge in sex with a stranger. Isn’t that something they teach you in high school? Now it looks as though my drunken night with Mel has left me with a lot more than I bargained for. My hands shake as I stare at the little stick. Bile rises in my throat and I force it back down as I watch the two pink lines appear.
    I’m pregnant.
    How the ever-loving fuck did that happen? Okay, I know how it happened, but seriously? I’m not cut out to be a mother; I’m not mature enough for that kind of responsibility. I’m barely in my twenties. I’ve never even babysat before. Standing up, I wash my hands before I exit the bathroom and head straight for the fridge. Pulling it open I grab a bottle of water and drink at least half of it as I stand there with the door open. I take a deep breath and lean heavily against the door, squeezing my eyes shut as I will this all to be just some really bad dream. It has to be, right? I’ve never had ‘drunk sex’ before, I’m not that sort of girl. I’m always the designated driver, I wouldn’t even dream of hooking up with a guys I’d only just met. And yet, you did it, my mind taunts me as I put the bottle of water back in the fridge and close the door. Pulling my shoulder length hair up into a ponytail, I walk to the living room where my suitcase sits open on the coffee table. My

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