The Groupie
Stephanie Queen
I walk into a bar in Boston that night after my close call, by myself, to see what my hometown has to offer a girl wanting to forget her mortality.
When I see a group of ladies in a corner having a ball with a group of guys who are hot as sin and out for trouble I head straight for them.
I want a part of that trouble. I want to belong in that group of ladies.
I introduce myself by sitting on the lap of the biggest, hottest guy there.
He’s sitting next to one of the women who gives me a surprised look, but before she can b!tch at me, I smile.
“Hi, I’m Rylee.” And I put out my hand to shake hers. The hot guy I’m sitting on clears his throat and shifts. I turn to him and my tummy does acrobatics like I swallowed a circus performer. Dark playful eyes that shout take me home to my lady parts stare back at me and if I try to speak, I might stutter...
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