Page 62 of Midnight Curfew

“But um…come anytime you want,” Micah tells everyone, a taunting smile on his lips as he focuses on me. “I’ll set you up with all the fun you can handle.”

The innuendo in his words is clear, and warmth sinks below my stomach to my groin. Dallas used to look at me like that. For about two seconds.

If this guy went to school with Jerome, he has to be about thirty-five. We’re not in the same place in life—I may still go to grad school—so there’d be no question of what we wanted from each other. Which is good.

“Anything else, gentlemen?” the girl asks us, and I notice everyone has their drinks.

I dig in my pocket for my money clip to tip her, but Milo waves me off.

“I got it.”

He walks back to her cart and she follows.

Micah stands next to me, both of us watching Jerome line up his shot.

“We’ve got a nice beach at Sotherly House,” Micah says, his tone smooth. “You like the water?”

Heat rolls off of him, his scent like something you want to sink into and never leave. It’s not just fucking soap.

But I reply, “Not in June.”

Even the water feels like soup this time of year.

“We got a nice spa, too.” He flashes me a half grin. “You like massages?”

My heart pumps a little harder, and I drop my eyes, releasing a laugh because whatever he’s doing is hitting. Maybe an older man is just what I need.

“Oh, shit,” Vincent laughs. “Milo!”

We all turn, and I see the girl bottomless with her shirt pulled up above her tits and her back to us as she leans into her cart with her legs spread. The top of Milo’s head is just visible as he goes down on her.

What the fuck?

Jerome rumbles with a laugh. “Oh, Jesus.”

Is she cool? Her head isn’t dropped back in pleasure, I don’t hear any moans…

Milo stands up, flips her over on her bench seat, and opens his shorts.

“You guys go on without me,” he groans. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He pushes inside of her, her hair in her face and her mouth open as he thrusts into her fast and hard.

Vincent looks at us, unfastening his belt as he backs away. “Nah, I want some.”

And he joins Milo.

The somersaults that were happening in my stomach a minute ago are gone as I take in the scene of the beer cart girl getting railed in broad daylight on a golf course, probably because she wants the money and probably because it isn’t the first time a rich guy has used her for a quick nut.

She pushes up on her hands and backs into it, biting her bottom lip.

Bile rises up my throat, but I don’t know why. He’s not forcing her.

“Can’t take them anywhere,” Jerome remarks, smiling as he leads us away to the next hole.

They can bring the carts when they’re done, I guess.

But I can’t swallow normally, following behind them in a fog.