Chapter Eighteen:
Cloey’s chest convulsed. Where was Nick? Why wasn’t he home to protect her?
“Did you ever think about my d**k, Cloey? Ever want to see it? Touch it?” He let go of the sheet to unzipped himself. He pulled out his c**k. Cloey tried not to look but couldn’t help herself. If you are about to be shot, you always look at the gun.
“Nice one, eh?” He held it up to her. “Bigger than Nick’s, I’ll bet. Can’t you hardly wait to feel it moving inside? Where do you want it first, Cloey? In your mouth? Between your legs? Up your ass?”
He stroked his c**k with one hand and with the other, he tugged the sheet. The hem caught seductively, just for an instant, but a slight tug from Rudd’s fingers and her n*****s popped up. Two ripe brown thimbles of flesh. Something inside Cloey’s chest
