“Finally, she is alone.” His French accent appeared deeper than earlier. I suspect it might’ve had something to do with the alcohol.
“Yeah, these days that’s a rarity.” I tossed a slight tug of a smile at the biker.
“You are too beautiful to hang with such trash. You should get with me. I could teach you a thing or two. Yes?” The Cajun leaned against the truck, invading my personal space, breathing his beer breath in my face. “If you like, I could, chéri take the crème de at frambroise?” (Cream off your raspberry?) “Or maybe je peux t’embrasser?” (I kiss you?)
It didn’t take me speaking French to understand that this dude was coming on to me while his friend had his back turned.
“You’re a pig,” I hissed.
The Cajun arched his eyebrow. “Oui, a pig you might enjoy!” He flashed a pearly s
