Read Sketches of Desire: Prequel to the Art Models Club Series for Free Online

"You were as good as I had hoped."
    "Okay, that's good to hear," Hunter said.
    He put on his own clothes and followed Bethany to the living room.
    "Did you want to do something later?" he asked.
    Bethany smiled. "Sorry, but I've gotten what I need. I don't do relationships."
    Hunter gawked at her.
    "So, going to the prom with me is out of the question?"
    Bethany laughed.
    "I've had my date lined up for the last couple of months," she said. "But don't feel bad. He won't get the kind of experience you did until the night of the prom."
    "Okay," Hunter said slowly. "So, let me see you out, then."
    Bethany left his house with her hips swaying and her heels clicking on the paved driveway. Five minutes later, she was gone, peeling out of the driveway in her silver BMW.
    Hunter shook his head, not sure what to feel. He had honestly felt something for Bethany and had hoped she would go to the prom with him. On the other hand, he still felt sated from her amazing fellatio skills. Bethany had shown him a new side to girls today.
    He found himself laughing. In one hour he had been treated to amazing oral sex, the fuck of his life, and then dumped unceremoniously. Life could really be weird.
     
    ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠
     
    2:00 A.M., Saturday, Town of Dawson, suburbs
    Amber Holloway parked in front of the dilapidated mobile home that was, unfortunately, her home. Not that she thought of it like that. She spent every possible moment away from the trailer home. She warily eyed the rusted, blue Ford Pinto beside her. Apparently, her mother's loser boyfriend was spending the evening.
    After unlocking the door, Amber laced the keys through her fingers. If there was trouble tonight, she was prepared to make a mark on the loser's face. Flickering light from the television cast a dim light on the worn and soiled living room furniture. Her mother, as usual, was zonked out on the sofa, a pile of empty beer cans littering the coffee table and floor.
    Travis, though, was wide awake, sitting in a recliner as though he had been waiting there for Amber all evening.
    "Hard night?" Travis asked, hospitably enough.
    Of course, he might have come across as more sympathetic if one hand wasn't already in his pants as he fingered his erection.
    Amber grunted in his direction, not even slowing. Travis had been coming on to her for the past several months. At some point, she knew a confrontation was likely. She sincerely hoped it wasn't tonight. She tired after closing down the restaurant that night. Somehow, she had gotten stuck breaking down the shake machine. That task alone took over an hour to complete. By the time she sprayed down the last greasy fryer basket and mopped the floor, she was hot, sticky, and exhausted. She needed a hot shower, her flannel pajamas, and some sleep.
    In the small bathroom, Amber made sure to secure the deadlock bolt she had installed several months earlier. If Travis tried to get in, as he had once before, he was going to have to take the whole door down. Once Amber finished her shower, she dressed quickly in long flannel pajamas with the shirt buttoned firmly on top. She also wore a tee shirt underneath as an extra precaution. No one could honestly say that she was leading Travis on.
    She opened the door, not really surprised to find him standing there. Again, this was the typical and tiresome behavior she had grown used to expecting over the last few weeks.
    "Want to come and have a drink before you go to bed?" he asked, smiling at her.
    Amber saw that he was trying to hold in his huge beer gut.
    "I've got another shift tomorrow and I need to get up early to finish a school project," Amber said, trying to be pleasant in spite of her disgust.
    She didn't want an argument this late at night.
    "It's always work or school or some other lame excuse," Travis said, stepping closer to prevent her from slipping past him.
    Amber plastered a smile on her face.
    "Well, I am still in high school," she said. "And my teachers kind of expect me