Cake looked thoughtful, smirked, and replied, “A hard, but I didn’t think you could smell it,” he laughed.
Jade looked confused and then figured it out. That broke the ice and Jade giggled and said, “Well it would be a shame to waste a good hard.” She took the bottle from his hand and placed it on a table.
“Let’s get out of here and go somewhere quieter,” she said, and suggested, “Let’s go to my place.”
The couple walked hand in hand out of the nightclub, with the kickboxers cheering them on.
Jade was a few years older than Cake, with brown wavy hair, brown eyes, and impish features. She resembled a smaller, muscular, Catherine Zeta-Jones. Cake marvelled at her feminine, well-defined body as they lay entwined, n***d in each other’s arms on a cold Christmas morning in Jade’s single bed
