Page 11 of She's Mine

Chapter Three

Drew had gotten another round of drinks, and discovered the girls’ drinks were on the house. He’d made it clear to Bobby that Raven belonged to him. He didn’t care what people said, but he wouldn’t have any of them hurting her.

“You’re scaring her,” Brice said.

He’d felt her shake in his arms, but not once had she tried to pull away. Raven was scared of the unknown, and for some strange reason she didn’t think he was being serious in his pursuit of her.

That was okay. He was more than happy to show her that he meant business.

“Worry about your own woman.”

“I know I’m going home with Cathy tonight.”

Drew was going home with Raven, even if it was just to take her home. He’d be happy to just do that.

He noticed them coming toward them, and he watched her body. Her tits bounced with each step she took, and his cock ached just from looking at her. Raven had curves in all the right places, and it made him wonder if she’d take every inch of his cock. He would wipe out the whole memory of every other guy so that all she had was him.

“Are we still playing couples?” Cathy asked, going into Brice’s arms.

“You’ve got it, babe. Drew, it’s your turn.”

“So it is.” They played another few games, and Raven slowly started to relax. Going against his better judgment, he stopped invading her space, and noticed that when he didn’t she was able to concentrate more. He made a note about that. If they were ever in an argument, he’d find a way to turn it around.

His parents had lived happily for years, and he’d watched them argue, only to disappear for a few hours, and coming back looking closer than ever. It was only over time that Drew realized his parents were fucking out their argument.

After Raven won them a game, the music was playing loudly, and Cathy begged to dance.

Putting the pool sticks away, he held onto Raven’s hip and guided her onto the dance-floor.

“I don’t know how to dance.”

“It’s because you’ve never been shown by a real man.”

“Are you the real man?” she asked.

Placing her hands against his chest, he moved her onto the dance floor. “You tell me.”

“I don’t judge a real man by his muscles. Anyone can have them.”

“What do you judge a man by?” he asked.

“Actions. They speak a lot louder than how much you can bench press. Do you go to the gym?”

“Nope. This is pure solid muscle that I get from long, hard days at the ranch.”

“You must love it.”

“I do.”

She smiled. “I like working with Cathy. I’ve only been doing it a couple of days, but it’s fun. I love working around food. I love food.”

“I like a woman who loves her food.”

“You do.”

“Yeah, I find it a real turn-off when a woman sneers at food that a hard-working man or woman has put on the table. My dad said you didn’t need much in life, but the love of a good woman, good food, and family is all you need.”

“I was really sorry to hear about your dad. I was in Italy when I got the news.”


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