Short Fiction by DL White

Short Fiction by DL White

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Short Fiction by DL White
Short Fiction by DL White
Same Time Next Week (Ch 44)
Serial Fiction

Same Time Next Week (Ch 44)

It was like a game, when he was bored, to think of all the crazy things she could be keeping from him. It had something to do with her ex fiancé, he knew that.

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DL White-Romantic Fiction
Nov 01, 2024
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Short Fiction by DL White
Short Fiction by DL White
Same Time Next Week (Ch 44)
2
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Photo by Erik Mclean: https://www.pexels.com/photo/red-headlight-on-black-car-5214413/

"I'm leaving," he'd said to Dave, Rod's manager. "I got some stuff I could be doing before tomorrow's shoot. This gig's a waste of my time."

"Fine, fine," Dave answered, his beady eyes bulging out of his head. He tossed back the last of whatever he was drinking and swiped another glass of wine from a passing server. “See you tomorrow. Bright and early,” he ordered, and went back to his conversation.

I wish I would have known it was that easy.  Could already be with Shelby.

He felt a twitch and suppressed a groan at the thought of her. He'd already taken care of his problem, but it was growing back and he had no intention of wasting it on another hand job in a hotel bathroom. He wanted to be home. Needed to be with her. Not that the night wasn't already a raging success.

It was exciting going back and forth with her. No one had any idea that he was sending and receiving sexy missives, getting him all worked up so bad he had to go hide in a bathroom at the other end of the hall and jack off. There was something exciting about a clandestine interactive encounter. Shelby was something else.

He'd had enough of these people and this event. He was doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, didn't need to be there and could have a hot and bothered young woman under him in about an hour, so as he stepped out into the muggy evening, he didn't feel bad at all for ducking out on the guys.

A line of taxis sat outside the hotel, the cabbies all gathered around one car, talking and smoking, waiting for fares. Jackson caught the eye of one and nodded at him. "Windermere," he said. He had to pick up his car at Rod's place–they had all come together in the luxurious but unnecessary Rod Phillips Band Tour Bus.

The long ride to Rod's and then across Orlando to Winter Park gave Jackson some time to think. He was falling for her. She didn't want him to, but it was happening. He wasn't sure how to tell her, if he should tell her, or if he should keep it to himself. Maybe it would give her the confidence and security to open up. More than being curious, he felt like he was on the outside of her life, looking in. He wanted to be on the inside. He wanted her on the inside of his life, too.

It was like a game, when he was bored, to think of all the crazy things she could be keeping from him. It had something to do with her ex fiancé, he knew that. He had to wonder how a former bartender could afford the house she lived in and the car she drove. He didn't figure she was from money–at least she didn't act like she was from money. She didn't work, except for a few shifts a week at Antigua. She was going to school. Shopped every week, showing off some sexy new thing every time he saw her. She was having a good time and didn't seem to be worried about what she was spending.

Either she was nuts and tits deep in debt… or she was loaded.

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