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Assault & Flattery
Assault & Flattery
Assault & Flattery
Ebook26 pages20 minutes

Assault & Flattery

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She looked cold and aloof when I saw her sitting at the end of the bar, sipping a martini and shredding napkins into tatters. I bought her a drink, which she refused. I bought her another one, and she took it, walked over to my stool, and threw it on me.

Okay, I get the hint.

Imagine my surprise, then, when she's waiting for me in the parking lot with a ball gag and a command. Get in the car and put the gag in, or get lost.

Well, who could turn down that kind of offer?

Story length: approx. 5,500 words

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 1, 2015
ISBN9781310040009
Assault & Flattery
Author

Jack Long

George "Buck" Rainosek is the author of books on this page. He lives in Texas and has been a prolific writer most of his life.

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    Book preview

    Assault & Flattery - Jack Long

    ASSAULT AND FLATTERY

    BY

    JACK LONG

    COPYRIGHT 2015

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

    SMASHWORDS EDITION

    WHAT READERS ARE SAYING

    JACK LONG IS A MASTER EROTICIST.

    REVIEW

    WOW...JUST WOW!

    REVIEW

    IT'S LIKE YOU'RE PEEKING IN THE WINDOW...

    REVIEW

    IF THE ACTION GOT ANY HOTTER IT WOULD MELT YOUR KINDLE.

    REVIEW

    BETTER THAN VIAGRA.

    REVIEW

    EXCRUCIATINGLY GOOD!

    REVIEW

    ALL PERSONS DEPICTED IN THESE STORIES ARE AT LEAST EIGHTEEN YEARS OF AGE.

    ASSAULT AND FLATTERY

    I'd watched her most of the night. She was sitting at one end of the bar, alone, sipping a martini. I was at the other end, nursing a beer, watching as she moved a napkin between her fingers, tearing the paper into tiny, evenly-sized shreds. I wondered if it was a nervous tic and, if it was, what she was so nervous about. I wanted to go over there and ask her, but she had an aura about her that was off-putting, and my ego was tripping over itself to not be put in its place.

    So I ordered her a drink, instead. It was the most passive-aggressive thing I could think to do.

    She looked up at the bartender as he gestured my way, and I felt her eyes drift over to me. Her gaze was cold and sharp, and she looked at me as though I was a slug. She was weighing me, without a doubt, and I could tell that she'd found me severely wanting. I smiled, more than a bit self-consciously, but it faded as she motioned at the bartender, and he took the drink away with him.

    She says no thanks, he said as he put the martini down in front of me.

    Is that what she said?

    The

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