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apart all over the backseat.
    “Seriously , you two? You can’t wait until we get back to Eryn’s place? We’re almost there.” Mr. Bartender sounds pissed.
    “Don’t be mad because we had a bit of fun without you , Mr. Bartender. Keep in mind, this is my rodeo, cowboy. If you don’t want to ride, feel free to drop us right here.” As much as I don’t want to admit it, Mr. Bartender is growing on me and I wanted his cock to fill my center more than anything I’ve craved in a long time. I’m not even the slightest bit afraid that he’s going to give up this opportunity. Most men pray to have a girl on girl experience. Whether it’s watching, participating, or both. They hardly ever think with their big heads, only the one downstairs.
    “ Mr. Bartender?” he questions and laughs out loud.
    “Well , you never told me your name.” 
    “You never asked ,” he quickly retorts back.
    “And I never will ,” I reply, not even a little bit fazed. If he thinks I give a shit what his name is, he’s in for a rude awakening. The only thing I care about is that he uses a condom and fucks me nice and properly. Preferably in silence.
    “I’m Savage.” I don’t mean to, but I literally go into a laughing fit in the back seat. He doesn’t look thrilled at my outrage.
    “Are you fucking serious?” 
    “Dead.” My mind flashes to darker places and I change the subject.
    “Are we there yet?” I whine.
    “Almost , baby girl. Then I get to play with your pretty pussy.” Eryn whispers in my ear. It’s just now registering to me she isn’t wearing any panties this time around.
    “Where are your panties?” I question.
    “I took them as a keepsake,” Savage answers for her. Wow, he’s a definite creeper. This ought to be fun. Eryn doesn’t seem to mind, though. She twirls a long strand of her dark hair around her finger and stares out of the window at the passersby walking aimlessly around the bright lit city. It takes about seven more minutes to reach our destination and I’m pretty out of sorts when we pull into the driveway of a massive house.
    “This is yours?” I ask Eryn sincerely. I’m impressed by this place. It’s old, but beautiful in a unique way. It almost reminds me of an Edgar Allan Poe story I read back in school. It has gargoyles on the outside of the cement steps leading into the gorgeous entranceway.
    “Yep. You seem surprised ,” she says and takes my hand in hers after Savage shuts the car off. We exit his vehicle and head up to the house.
    “Maybe I am. But it’s definitely a good surprise ,” I respond. She seems satisfied with my answer and doesn’t push the issue. She grabs my hand and pulls me up the front steps. The door is quickly unlocked and I push open the heavy cherry wood door.
    “Welcome to my humble abode.” I stare around in awe. The walls are lined with artwork of every genre. It is impeccably decorated with antique furniture. She leads us up the stairs to her master bedroom. A huge four poster bed sits in the middle of the room, demanding attention from anyone who has the pleasure of gracing this room.
    I place my purse on the nightstand next to the bed, it’s getting heavier by the minute and beginning to put too much unwanted pressure on my shoulder. I walk over to the bed, not paying attention if they are following my lead or not. I run my hand along the plush down comforter. Everything on her bed is the most virgin of whites. I climb onto the bed and spread out. I feel like an angel laying on a cloud. I am far from an angel though, and this will be the closest I get to feeling like I’m touching a piece of heaven. I feel the bed dip and see Savage ripping his shirt from his defined chest.
    He has bright tattoos lining his chest, only leaving his chiseled abs exposed from any obstructions. Both of his arms have tattoos as well, except they are all in blacks and grays. The contrast between the work on his arms and chest is questionable. Almost like