Not the Marrying Type

By INtrinSicliValud

One rainy afternoon after the school bus drops her, Kayla makes a fateful decision. She heads to the nearby motel for a soda instead of going home. In the muscled arms of her first real men, she earns her first real money. And her world expands. Unstoppable and open to the possibilities, she pursues a life of discrete sex to pay her way out of a small Southern town and her dead-end life.

Until she makes a mistake, falling for a client. Stunned, she lets that burning betrayal guide her for the rest of her life. Or does she?

• Language: English
• Publisher: INtrinSicliValud
• Release date: Jan 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224293650

INtrinSicliValud

"The fanner of dark flames." As a hobbyist writer and herder of muses, I weave tales of fictional encounters. Not bound by topic, tags, tropes, or niches, I tend to wander along the murky edges of erotic romance, with a smattering of darker fair. Other books can be found on Bookapy: https://bookapy.com/a/130/intrinsiclivalud  Free chapters of newer works are posted on Stories Online: https://storiesonline.net/a/intrinsiclivalud To contact the author: [e-mail]

Book preview

You should marry me, Kayla, a tall, well-built, tuxedo-wearing man says after pulling his luscious, pillow-like lips from mine.

With thick wavy blonde hair and soul-devouring blue eyes, he’s a little older—late-thirties. But, wow, is he good-looking. Legit cover model material. Cliche chiseled jaw harboring just the right amount of dark stubble.

With the limo slowing and his glimmering, hopeful pools boring into me, I can’t answer. Women like me don’t get married. Beneath my dress, his large hand presses on my bare thigh, but my mind is flickering to a thousand years ago. To a world so far away as to be on another damned planet. And the first time I’d heard those exact words.

____

You should marry me, Kayla. With wispy gray hair, the corpulent man settled back in his wheelchair and grinned.

As a snorting laugh escaped me, I straightened my pleated skirt. While gliding a nail under his chin, I flashed him my cutest smile. We’d done this almost every time.

Now, Mr. Kincaid. First, I’m way too young for you. And second, Mrs. Kincaid may not approve.

He laughed. She’d never know—

Besides, you can’t afford to keep me, I cut him off, skipping ahead in our usual post-fuck banter.

Between the bus stop in front of the EconoLodge motel where I’d earned my first real money and home, he was my most convenient weekday customer. A lonely shut-in, he was a nice enough guy to whom life had dealt some shitty luck. A vet who should’ve turned to the left but went to the right and got blown up.

And, as one of the most generous clients, he always overpaid. After counting out my fee, he held out the cash. While flashing him a smile, I scooped my fingernail along his lower lip. 

You missed a bit, I said while sliding the finger into his lips.

With his cataract-clouded blue eyes twinkling, he sucked. We both knew it was pure bullshit. He was meticulous, always