LUKE
She was the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a long
time and some asshole left her hanging. From my spot at the bar where I was
watching the baseball game on one of the flatscreen TVs while I ate a burger
and had a beer, it was obvious she’d been stood up.
It wasn’t the bright yellow of her sundress that
caught my eye. It was her blue eyes. No, the full lips with some kind of shiny
gloss. No, her toned legs. No, the blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail at
the nape of her neck. Hell, it was her, the perfect package, that I instantly
wanted to get my hands on. While her dress wasn’t painted on, it fit every one
of her slim curves to perfection. It was as if God knew every single thing that
I craved in the perfect woman and made this one just for me.
My dick knew what it wanted.
I wasn’t the only man in the place checking her
out. I could read their thoughts. That a quarter could bounce off that ass.
That her tits were small and high and had the creamiest, soft swells above the
neckline of her dress.
I swiped my mouth with my napkin wondering which
guy I was going to have to fight first. The bartender who winked when he took
her order? The trio of cowboys with belt buckles bigger than their brains if
they thought they had a shot? Fortunately, the place was busy for trivia night,
with many distracted by the game on small tabletop screens.
One guy had the balls to approach, but she shook
her head at whatever he was offering and he walked off. Smart man.
Sam, my agent, would be thrilled to know I didn’t
make a scene that would be caught on camera and end up on a social media site
and go viral. I had enough problems with that already.
My friend, Mark, saw her, too. From beside me, he
stood, ready to shoot his shot next. No fucking way.
I grabbed his arm, yanked him back onto his stool.
He glared at me. “What?”
“Not a chance,” I snarled, having no issue with
doing what it took to keep him away from her. “She’s mine.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.”
