So rude.
Her temper started to ignite.
Calm, Maeve.
“It’s rude to call someone a bitch, especially when you don’t know them. I’m actually a very nice person. I even have a citizenship award for kindness.”
Okay, her friends had bought it for her, but these guys didn’t know that.
“Who gives a fuck, bitch?” another one snarled.
“Yeah, all we care about is how tight your pussy is,” a third one added.
“You’re not going to get the chance to know! And I didn’t fall into your lap, Frog-face,” she told the guy holding her. “You grabbed hold of me and dragged me back here. That’s the opposite of falling in your lap. Let me go!” She tried to yank her arm free. But he tightened his hold, making her gasp in pain.
Ouch. That was going to bruise.
“Did she just call you Frog-face?” bad guy number two asked, giggling like an idiot.
What was so funny about that?
“You got a problem with that, Fishy-breath?” she snapped.
“I do not have fishy breath!”
“Yeah, you kind of do, Evan,” the guy behind her said.
“Fuck off, Mike! Your feet smell like you washed them in a garbage can.”
“Ouch. Burn,” she said.
“What?” Frog-face asked.
“I said, burn. It was used in the right context because Fishy-breath said that Garbage-feet has bad-smelling feet. Although to be fair, Fishy-breath, I think that your breath also smells like you ate some garbage. Now, as fun as it is chatting about your various issues with your bodies, this alley is dirty and damp, and I don’t want to mess up my beautiful velvet shoes.”
She tried to look down at her purple velvet shoes but couldn’t see them in the poor light.
Shoot. They better be all right. They matched her purple velvet coat perfectly.
“What?” Fishy-breath asked. And whoa, either there was something dead in this alley or he really needed a breath mint. “Why’re you talking about fucking velvet shoes? Who gives a fuck?”
“I do. Do you know how hard it is to get purple velvet shoes to match your purple velvet coat? I’ll give you a clue. Very hard. Although, from what I can see, none of you are exactly high-fashion.” She was done trying to be nice.
“I don’t give a fuck what you’re wearing, you fucking slut,” Frog-face snarled. “All that interests me is the fucking pussy you’ve got under your dress. And how quickly I can pound that thing.”
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” she asked, aghast.
“What? Why the fuck would I want to kiss my mother? She’s my mother! That’s disgusting.”
“Not that sort of kiss. I meant a peck on the cheek or something. Because I’m sure she wouldn’t approve of the way you speak to women.”
“My mother doesn’t give a fuck what I do,” Frog-face told her. “And she speaks worse than I do, bitch. Evan, hold her while I get my dick out,” Frog-face said. “Mike, keep watch at the end of the alley.”
“With pleasure.” Fishy-breath grabbed her and held her tight with one arm around her waist. His dick was pressed against her ass.
And eww . . . yep, he was turned on.
This was not happening. It couldn’t be happening.