The Two Week Stand - Samantha Towle Page 0,5

thank you,” she adds as he turns away to start making her drink. “I hate it when people don’t use manners,” she says to me.

“Then, we have that in common.”

My mom instilled good manners into me.

“The prick never said please or thank you to anyone.”

“The prick?”

“My ex.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

She climbs up onto the stool, two down from mine. It takes her a few attempts to actually get up on it. I’d offer my help, but it’s fun, watching her try.

“Where’s your other half?” she says to me once she’s got her sweet ass on the stool.

“My other half of what?”

“You know, your significant other. Wife. Girlfriend. Husband. Boyfriend.”

“Not gay. Not married. No girlfriend.”

She laughs. “No fucking way you’re single. You’re hot—like super hot—and super-hot guys are never single.”

Good to know she thinks I’m hot. Not that I doubted she would. I mean, I’m a good-looking bastard, and she’s not made of wood.

“Well, you know, sometimes, super-hot guys like me are single.” I put my bottle to my lips and empty the contents.

“You’re really single?”

“Yep.”

The bartender puts down her cocktail, and while he’s there, I ask him for another beer.

I look at the hot Brit, and she’s got her full lips wrapped around the straw, drinking down that cocktail like a champ.

Makes me think of something else I’d like her lips wrapped around and the happy ending I’d like her to swallow down.

Jeez, my thoughts are really straying off into the path of perverted. Which isn’t unusual for me. I love women. I love fucking them.

But this one really has me fired up. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since I last had sex.

“This drink is really yummy,” she says to me.

“You seem like you’re enjoying it.”

She’s drunk down half of it already. She keeps going at that rate, and she’s gonna be wasted.

Looks like I’m on drunk-person duty tonight. I mean, she’s here alone, and I can’t exactly leave her to her own devices. Sure, we’re on a small island, and I’m guessing it’s safe. But there’s a lot of trouble a drunk person can get themselves into, even on an island.

The bartender puts my beer down, and I thank him. I’m only two beers in, this being my third, so I’ll cut myself off after this one. I can hold my liquor, but something tells me I’m gonna need to be sober for this, and I wasn’t planning on getting drunk tonight anyway. Unlike my new little British friend.

Look at me, thinking of someone else. See, I can be a good guy when I want to be.

She drains her drink and orders another.

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of me. “I love this song!”

There’s music playing quietly in the background, but I’ve not been paying attention to it. Clearly, she has.

“Can you turn the music up, please?” she asks the bartender, who is more than happy to oblige her request.

She slides off the stool and starts to dance right fucking there. She literally gives zero fucks, and I like it.

“Come dance with me!” She holds a hand out to me.

As hot as she might be, this is when I tap out.

I might move like a motherfucker on the field, but dancing is not my thing. It’s not that I can’t dance. Dance lessons were forced on me by my mom to get me through the many fucking functions my father would drag us to. Mom always wanted me to dance with her, and I would do anything for her.

But in the middle of a quiet bar, that’s where I say no.

“Nope, I’m good. But you carry on.”

And I am more than happy to sit here and watch her gyrate and move her body around. I especially like it when she bounces on the balls of her feet and her tits move in her top. It is the best thing I’ve seen in ages. I haven’t seen tits that actually move of their own accord in a really fucking long time.

God bless the British girl’s surgically untouched tits.

I could honestly sit here all night, sipping on my beer and just watching her dance.

But it’s also a little pervy—okay, a lot pervy now that I think about it. I’m ogling a drunk girl who doesn’t know better. And I’m not the only one. The bartender and the guy sitting outside, whose wife just went to the restroom, are also getting a good look at the British girl here.

“Why don’t you sit down and finish your

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