Grace Reilly

  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    And fine, maybe I like it. Just a little. I get out of the car and hum along as I pick up the phone, grateful no one is around. It wouldn’t do for McKee University’s new QB to make a first impression as a 2000s pop lover. I have a reputation from Louisiana State University to uphold.
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    “Just try it on. It’ll look gorgeous on you and make your tits look fabulous. All the boys will drool over you.”
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    Fuck, she’s pretty. An angel in white, complete with feathery wings and a golden halo. She’s leaning against the far wall, watching the mob of dancers, a red solo cup dangling from one delicate hand. Her hair, a strawberry-blonde, falls in waves around her face, framing big, dark eyes. Her heels make her legs look long and supple. I almost take a step forward, magnetized by the way she’s looking at me, but then I hear my name.
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    Tempting, but the bigger part of me wants to go back to the dance floor, find that little strawberry-blonde angel, and ask her for a dance.
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    “Her tits are nice,” says Fletch, one of the D-men.
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    “I don’t know what things were like around here before me, but on my team, we respect women.”
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    “Even if she’s your ex and you think she did you wrong.”
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    “You got that?”
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    “Need me to repeat myself?”
  • pinkyprincess101fez uma citaçãoano passado
    “Fine. Call a girl—any girl—a name like whore or bitch again, and I’ll fuck you up.”
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