Five Star Curves: A BWWM Romance by Walker Tyla

Author:Walker, Tyla [Walker, Tyla]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: eBook Carousel
Published: 2019-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Devon

We make it to XYZ, and Jenna jokes about breaking in. It's already closed, so we go through the back door, and thank goodness, this woman has keys.

I plug my laptop into an outlet and fire up my e-mail program.

"Do you always work even during your free time?"

"Not really, but when e-mails fill my inbox, I go crazy. I hate that, " I reply to Jenna.

"Same —" she coughs. "Sorry, I think my throat's dry. I want to buy a drink, but..."

Jenna gestures to the outside, "Plus, you're unfortunately stuck with me."

"It's not bad at all," then something comes to mind. "Oh, right. I bought something earlier."

I put my laptop away and reach for my backpack as I wink at her.

"Wait here. Don't peek at my e-mails."

Jenna snorts, "Sure, whatever. But don't ransack the store, okay?"

I laugh; I deserved that, "Okay, here it is. Ta-da!"

She stares at the bottle of wine and draws nearer.

"How did I not notice you bring that out?" Jenna raises her brows at me.

"Maybe because you're way too focused on me. Can't blame you, though. I'm a fine specimen," I tell Jenna as I give her my signature smirk.

Her eyes narrow before looking away. She can't look me in the eyes, and I smirk.

"Apparently, you're cocky, too," Jenna replies.

I shift closer to her as she settles down beside me, "Oh, darling, you have no idea. Want a peek?"

Jenna's eyes widen, and she slaps my arm, "J-just get some…wineglasses. They're over there."

"Thought you didn't want me to ransack this store?" I ask her.

"Well, if you're paying, I'll ask the cashier to ring it in tomorrow," Jenna wittily replies.

"Nah. I can but don't want you to get into trouble," I pop the wine open, wink at her. "Bottoms up!"

"Unbelievable," she huffs.

I then hold it out to her, and she wipes the mouth of the bottle with some tissues. She tells me that she's hoping not to get a virus.

"Sweetheart, I always use a condom and have regular check-ups. I'm clean," I whisper in her ears.

She throws the used tissue at me, shaking her head. It was quiet for a few seconds. The warmth brought by the wine is welcome, and we take turns sipping.

The question slips out before I can stop it.

"Tell me more about yourself. How was Georgia?"

She stares down at the gray store carpet. I noticed that Jenna doesn't like talking about her personal life, and it makes me sad that she doesn't want to share it with me. Sighing, she looks at me and tells me not to laugh.

Why does she think I'll laugh?

I lean forward and put my hands on her face, "I'm all ears, love. Tell me."

And I can't help it; my thumb runs across her lower lip while speaking, and I feel her shiver. She tells me about living below average and struggling to make ends meet for her family and son.

She bares it all, concluding with, "As I said, don't laugh. Or even pity me."

What is she talking about?

"I admire you, Jenna.

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