Perfectly Lonely - Jessica Marin Page 0,8

was loud in the club, so we had to be in close proximity in order to hear each other talk. Despite her luscious breasts on full display in her low cut dress, my eyes were drawn to her mouth. Full, succulent, pink lips that were the perfect lips to be kissed. Her breath was a combination of her cinnamon gum and alcohol and I was ready for a tall drink of her. Her smell was intoxicating and it took all my willpower to not claim her lips as I was dying to know if she tasted as good as she smelled.

I wanted this woman and I was going to make damn sure I had her tonight.

We started off with the usual bullshit small talk. I told her I was a photographer, commissioned to be here tonight to take photos of the famous guest of honor. Lots of women become impressed when you start mentioning that your line of work included celebrities, so I started rattling off the current major stars, implying that I have photographed them. Some of it was true — most of it was lies. As soon as I said Cal Harrington, whom I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting, her whole demeanor changed. She looked at me with disgust and asked if I was friends with him.

Right then and there, I knew there was a story.

After I reassured her I was not friends with him or any of the celebrities I photographed, I started to devise a plan to find out what about Cal Harrington brought out her disdain. Most women would have been begging to know what he was like, but her reaction completely caught me off guard and made me suspicious. I changed the topic of conversation and started pumping her with drinks. She greedily accepted and as the night went on, she loosened up. I snuck in my questions like switching gears when driving a stick shift and her answers started to slowly place the pieces of the puzzle:

It has been almost five years since she had been back to Las Vegas.

She was last here with her best friend, Jenna.

She hated this club as it reminds her of the heartache Jenna has endured since being here.

The heartache that Cal Harrington has caused Jenna.

She took breaks in between her story and I continued to occupy her with more liquid courage. She was getting drunk, not noticing that I switched my drinks to water in order to keep my mind clear. She wanted to dance and I appeased her to get her to feel comfortable with me, to trust me. It was there that she completely turned the tables on me and almost made me forget my new found purpose. My body came to life as she rubbed herself all over me as we moved to the rhythm of the music. Her hands made their way to my ass as she grabbed on, placing herself right against my dick, which was aching to be released from the confines of my pants. I grabbed her face, brought my lips down to hers and soon forgot who and where I was.

She tasted better than I could have ever imagined.

I wanted more.

I needed more.

I had to have more.

Less than thirty minutes later, we were in her hotel room, fucking on the floor as our need for each other couldn’t wait for any bed. It was the breaks in between our sex sessions that I found out why she hated Cal Harrington so much:

She hates this hotel as this was where Jenna spent a week with Cal.

It was in that week that Jenna got pregnant with Cal’s baby.

A baby that Jenna was told he didn’t want and didn’t plan on supporting.

As night turned into early morning, sleep was the last thing on my agenda as my excitement grew from the impact that this story might have in store for me. Once Layla was asleep, I reached for my phone and started researching Jenna. Google confirmed that she was in Las Vegas as the opening speaker for a women’s entrepreneurial conference during the exact dates that Cal Harrington was reportedly seen around town in preparation for the movie he was shooting at the time. I needed to leave and start getting more facts to work on this story. Time was of the essence and unfortunately, my time did not include Layla. I left her a note before sneaking out of the hotel room, thanking her for the best sex of my