Chapter Twelve
Kantrell sat at the dining table inside of the hotel room she’d rented for the week. A smile was plastered on her face as she ran stacks of cash through the money counting machine and took pulls from a cigarette. Once the machine was done counting the money, she’d dip her hand back into the briefcase for another stack and dropped it into the slot. She’d smile and lick her lips in delight as the cash rapidly shuffled before her eyes. She felt moisture building between her legs as the Benjamin Franklins were flickered through the counter. s*x was always good, but it was the money that made her c*m.
“Cash makes the coochie woo, woo.” She cracked a smile, sounding like Cookie from Next Friday.
Kantrell had taken a liking to Tiaz. He had a pretty good up and down game. He knew
