How About the Rooftop? - Timea Tokes - Bøker - Independently Published - 9781521208298 - 2. mai 2017
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How About the Rooftop?

Timea Tokes

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How About the Rooftop?

Two strangers share a dance - and a passionate night on the rooftop. But can they sway to the music, when only they can hear it? Or is that the part when it all becomes fun?An Erotica Short Story in 5300 words. Contains adult content, strictly 18+! o "Hey, watch out!"Too late. I scowl, smoothing down my coffee-stained T-shirt, trying to hold on to the little dignity I have left. I look up to see who my assailant is. Of course, today of all days I had to bump into a stranger who would pour steaming brown liquid all over my bruised ego. When was my life going to stop being a total mess? I am momentarily distracted by the bluest eyes I've ever seen, but it doesn't last long. He is a man, and therefore he can't be nothing else, but a total ass. My brown eyes shoot poisonous daggers his way, hoping they kill him on the spot. Well, they don't, they just make him smirk, while he looks me up and down, making my blood boil. But before I could say something snarky, he takes a step closer, fingering the spaghetti strap of my white (slash coffee-coloured) T-shirt."Well, well, I did warn you. But you know, you could always take this off."I gasp, raising a hand, before I could even think about what I was doing. How dare he? But of course, he catches my wrist, and it never connects with his handsome face. Yeah, right, this guy might be God's gift when you look at him, but when he talks he confirms what I thought: he is an egoistic jerk, just like the rest of them. I glance around quickly, scanning the room, in case anyone saw what happened. But luck is on my side, at least in this tiny instance. Everyone is busy dancing with their partners, swaying to Brahms. Typical. I clear my throat, returning my gaze to the jackass, while smiling at him indignantly: "I could, couldn't I? I guess that's the only thing guys like you can think of, right?"Catherine - asshole 1:0. I take a mental note to tap myself on the shoulder when I get home. Maybe I will even eat a box of chocolate, or some ice-cream. Oh, yes, I can do that now. I can do anything. And that includes slapping any guy who plays the jackass card on me. Who am I, some kind of a trophy? I realize too late that the annoying guy is still holding my right hand in his iron grip. He pulls me a tad bit closer, and I'm forced to look into those piercing blue eyes again. There is a storm raging behind them, and I'm not sure if I'm more pissed off now or he is. God, I don't even know this asshole, and he managed to make all the nasty memories of last night come back in an instant. Will this ever stop?He leans in towards my left ear, and a shiver runs through me, despite the heat and the steaming coffee still burning my stomach. And not from the right side, either, being stuck on my shirt and all."Guys like me, huh? You clearly have no idea what you are talking about. Well, I'm more than happy to show you..."He lets go of my hand, running his fingers up my arms, awaking goosebumps on their way. But I ignore the electric shocks that try to grab my attention, and focus on my anger instead. This can only be happening to me, especially today. I must have it written all over my forehead: assholes hurry, here is a girl who just got dumped at the altar. Yeah, well, not exactly at the altar, but what difference does that make?I push against the guy's chest, trying to stifle back my tears. Somehow I lost my will to come back with a witty response, so I just whisper before turning on my heels: "You know what? I couldn't care less. You are all the same."And with that I leave him near the canteen, mouth agape. That served him right. I don't need this right now. I don't need anyone to tell me how to behave, nor do I need to be seduced out of pity...

Media Bøker     Pocketbok   (Bok med mykt omslag og limt rygg)
Utgitt 2. mai 2017
ISBN13 9781521208298
Utgivere Independently Published
Antall sider 44
Mål 152 × 229 × 3 mm   ·   77 g
Språk Engelsk  

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