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citricoslarubia > The Manhattanites: Unscrupulous > Part 7
"Text me if you leave to hook up."

"Ditto." Vive strutted off toward two men who were waving her over. As a Swedish blonde, Vive always secured first looks, even in the dark.

Alone, Taddy felt tonight stood to get ten times hotter. Maybe better than what she'd planned for Algarve, Portugal. Please sweet Jesus gumdrop-anytime you wanna bring me a man, I'm ready.

Moonlit ocean views glowed behind the wine bottles as she walked over to the main bar. Taddy studied the champagne menu. It listed over fifty varying bubbles from France's champagne houses along with brands she'd tasted from media parties in years past such as Bollinger, Moet & Chandon and Piper Heidsieck. However, this place had even stocked the unique and unfamiliar from Italy and California.

"Pouvez-vous m'aider?" Impressed with the menu, she secured the champagne sommelier's attention. "I'm hoping for a suggestion from your overwhelming menu."

"Talk to him, mademoiselle," the tuxedo-wearing server shouted over the loud music, pointing to a far corner.

Her eyes followed his direction. Men dressed in their best linen suits and women in lavish c.o.c.ktail attire. The patrons seemed relaxed yet elegant, possibly homeowners living on the island for the season. She could tell by how at ease people mingled with one another. As if they'd been friends for years. One tall stud stood out from the rest.

Huh?

Taddy was shocked to see what appeared to be a Midwesterner from the Buckeye State. How did he beat the in-the-know system? Oh my G.o.d. It's my NFL quarterback Brayden Brooks. p.u.s.s.y creaming while standing, she held on to the bar as if an Ohio tornado swept her right off her Casadei alligator-embossed platform pumps. She studied his backside. He had to e bat least six-foot-five. Yummers.

His legs appeared thick, like great oak trees. She imagined herself as Red Riding Hood ready to walk through his forest under those trees. And his back, Holy Mary mother of...

Certain heaven had gifted her with an NFL player as a royal payment for the Birdie h.e.l.l Lex and she had endured, Taddy reminded herself of the $175,253.84 she'd paid. She waved the server off with a graceful smile. Taddy stepped closer for a better view.

Dear baby Jesus, Hold your gumdrops. You just had your holiday. Now let me have mine. I've waited a long time to kiss those full lips...to feel his NFL-playing fifty-something-inch chest mes.h.i.+n' against my nipples...to have his long, thick c.o.c.k slamming into me. I know I must sound shallow. But let me have just a few hours of fun.

Tonight is going to be the best. Better than wearing Chanel. Better than living in NYC.

Thank you, G.o.d, for answering my prayers. After the week in Vancouver, I hoped, I prayed you'd pay me back. I didn't expect anything as magnificent as this.

Holy s.h.i.+t.

Sorry. I mean, Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

Amen.

Hot men who stood at Brayden's size gave off a wholesome scent in th

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