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Publisher Description

Alison’s night of mindless lust with her girlfriend in a bar where she once “entertained” seven guys on a busted pool table goes belly-up. The girlfriend is late, and Tommy (an old friend with benefits) walks in with four auto execs. He had hired a duo to entertain them, but they're no-shows. Alison, dressed the part, owes him. She’ll help—for a price. Alison doesn’t do it for free anymore.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

Alison took a deep breath, pushed the doors open and sashayed into the bar, hips rocking. Conversation dropped off as she crossed the room, devoured by fifty sets of eyes.

Her metallic one-piece outfit was almost like a swimsuit. Her cleavage was very prominent, and her legs bare. Three-inch heels completed the come-on ensemble.

Fred met her at the bar. He suppressed a smile, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

“Re-visiting the scene of the crime?” he said, wiping the bar.

“No, just waiting for a friend. Seen Tommy tonight?”

“Nope. What’ll it be?”

She swung her behind on the barstool and as she took out her smartphone, it pinged: “In Chicago. Flight delayed 30 mins. Love you!”

Alison frowned. Before she could give any thought on how to hold off a horde of horny males, the door opened and four suits came in. Not cheap suits, either, very tailored. The last suit was a tall, angular woman, followed by Tommy, dressed as usual in shabby preppie attire—wrinkled chinos, a faded golf shirt and beat-up loafers.

Ten minutes later, Tommy slid onto the stool next to her. “Babe, you look great. Better than last time.”

“I’m getting laid regular.”

“It becomes you.” He leaned in. “I, uh, got a problem. We need to talk.”

Alison smiled and put a hand to his cheek. “But you’re so self-sufficient and manly.”

Tommy held his phone up to her. A text message read, “Sorry.”

“It’s from ‘Heather,’ you know, with quote marks. My legion of women to soothe the Germans’ souls bailed on me.”

“Poor baby. Judging from this motley crowd, it might take you, oh, thirty seconds to recruit a new team.”

“Listen to me. This is important. This deal, I mean. Two major German car manufacturers are exiting the warranty repair business. They want to set up an independent company for all warranty work. They’re outsourcing. Allie, I get this deal, and I’ve got it made. I can retire in two years, tops. I’ll be in the Keys bone fishing every day. If I can close this deal.”

“Safe to say, your business savvy from fifteen years in the exotic car repair business is enough?”

“I wish. They’re Euros. The way you do business with them is, you entertain them. Yeah, I’m the logical guy. But there’s competition.”

“What can I do?”

“Klaus, Dieter and Wolfgang have been sitting at the table since the moment they came in licking their chops, looking at you.”

Alison stiffened. “Wait a minute…”

Tommy reached for her wrist. “You owe me one, remember?”

“Dammit, I’m not a common prostitute.”

“I know that. But you walked in here two years ago, hips swaying, to prove a point. To prove that you could do it—sell your body, make men fight over you, if you had to. That you’ve got the appeal and skills to do it for a living. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you had a good time, didn’t you? Then I whisked you out the back door, took you home, and you screwed me like a teenager.”

Alison bit her lip. “My girlfriend’s on her way. I just can’t—”

“Yes, you can. You can do it for me. I’ll wait out here for Morgan—”


“Moriah, sorry. I’ll intercept her. Got a picture?”

“She’s a dyke. She’ll stick out like a…” Alison jabbed at her smartphone. “Well, this probably isn’t the best…”

Tommy pulled the phone out of her hand and tilted it to get rid of the glare. “Yeah, well, the ball gag isn’t very becoming. No t**s, but k[...]

Fiction & Literature
July 4
Boruma Publishing
StreetLib Srl

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