When Mike gets back to his apartment, there’s a note from Shelly, a lovely chef who lives in the complex. She needs help with her garbage disposal. While Mike’s there, she feeds him a variety of treats, including her own luscious self. Later in the evening, she suggests Mike head home or neither of them will be fit for work the next day.
“Dammit, I hate when you’re right,” I told her with a last, long, soulful kiss. “When you talk to your friends on Facebook about this. . . .”
She started to protest, but I could read it in her eyes. That was exactly what she was going to do. I laughed, kissing her playfully.
“Just be sure to get the facts right, huh? I’m six feet tall, 190 pounds of incomparable badass and I think you’re a hell of a sexy woman. You’re also the best and…
View original post 668 more words
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 