1642734778_punk-57-pdf

“She’s right here, Burrowes.” My voice is low so only Ryen can hear
me as I run my hand across her stomach. “And she feels really good.”
Ryen bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, pleading.
“Hello! Wake up, asshole!” Trey barks again.
I stare down at Ryen. “Are you wet now?” And I climb off her and out
of the truck, shooting her a smirk. “Stay down.”
Slamming the door closed, I see Trey sitting in his car with his window
down. The rain is still pouring and the clouds have grown darker.
I grab the hose and shut it off, hanging it up. “She bailed,” I bark.
“Walked home. Now fuck off.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, man. You can have her all
you want after our baseball game against Thunder Bay next week. I like a
little pussy after I win, so until then, you wait your turn.”
What the fuck did he just say? I watch as he speeds off and disappears
down the road, curling my fists.
I will not wait my turn.
He can’t have her.