Page 44 of CowSex
There’s an estate of what looks like new homes over on the right-hand side and a sign saying Addison Heights on a curved wall at the entrance, right after that, a stop sign at a cross roads, and before us, the town centre of Addison Creek.
My heart starts to flutter rather than beat in my chest. I’m so excited to finally see what will be my hometown for the next six months I can hardly contain myself.
“Welcome to Main Street, Addison,” Koa says in that low rumble of his.
“Thank you, but my name’s Gracie, not Addison.”
He groans, which isn’t a bad sound. Not. At. All.
“Where do you need to go first?”
It suddenly strikes me that I’m not sure what I need to get. Am I going to be staying at the cabin, or will I have to find a room at a hotel or worse still, a motel?
Koa pulls down a side street beside a bar named Mo’s, which is probably the same bar he mentioned last night and turns into a car park out the back.
As he comes to a stop, I ask the question.
“Koa?”
“Essex?”
“You say that you’ve come to town for supplies, right? Well, I was sorta wondering what was actually happening with me? Am I gonna keep staying at the cabin, or do I need to find a room somewhere? Because if I’m staying, I’d like to contribute towards food and get myself some wine and buy you a bottle of something as a thank you. If I’m not, then I don’t know what I’ll need, apart from the wine, because, well, I’ll be needing my wine wherever I end up. A girl always needs her wine. Especially this girl. Or vodka. Vodka’s good, too, but I tend to get a bit messy on vodka, especially if I mix it with wine—”
“Essex?”
“I don’t mean in one glass, I just mean—”
“Gracie?”
“What?”
“Quit talking.”
I jerk my head back.
“What the fuck? Was that a polite way of telling me to shut up?”
“Yeah. Now, let’s get to the diner before they stop serving breakfast, I’m starved.”
This time it’s me who opens and closes their mouth without actually saying anything.
KOA
IWOKE THIS MORNING WITHmy hard dick pressed between Little Ms Essex ass cheeks and nearly hit the roof when I realised this fact.
Mortified, I slid out from behind her, climbed over the back of the couch, covered her with the blanket and made my way to my bathroom.
Standing in my shower a few moments later, I recalled how she held me last night while I lost my fucking mind.
I can’t believe I cried like that. In front of her.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I don’t know her. She’s not a friend. She just blew in from London, crashlanded in my front yard and my life, and there I was, spilling my life story like I’d known her since the beginning of time.
Two days. Two fucking days was all it had taken for her, her pink and purple hair, and her funny accent to get to me. I’d cried while telling her about one of the most painful experiences of my damn life.
And then I fell asleep while she held me.
