He watched her as if he were watching a shooting gallery duck going back and forth. Daphne knew he was watching as she was keeping her eye on him as w...ll. He was tall, six one, sitting there in a blue-stripe shirt, open collar, and black slacks. His short-cropped, brown hair graying at the sides marked him for being closer to fifty than forty. She wasn’t aware that she was gazing at him as he drank the bourbon, gazing at his lips. The masculine hands caught Daphne’s attention as he lay the gun. ”“What?!” Daphne flailed, trying to break free from Mallory’s grip. “I want nothing of the sort--”“Oh?” Mallory flashed a mischievous grin. She slammed her face into Daphne’s and forced her tongue into the girl’s warm, stammering mouth. Mallory’s lungs heaved as she continued the kiss. Daphne’s arms stopped pushing away from her and went limp. Mallory tightened her grip, snaking her other arm around Daphne’s thin waist to pull her in. “Mmmm…” Mallory moaned as she ground her hips, her cock. More

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