Page 3 of Savage Daddies
Four Years Ago
“You’re terrible, Zoe,” laughs Tegan as I miss yet another beer pong cup.
Hand-eye coordination isn’t for me.
But you know what is? The three middle-aged hotties on my team.
They’re good, too. It’s why we’re in the lead.
“You’re too fucking drunk,” she says.
“I’m not drunk,” I counter.
Not yet.
But I’m definitely on the way.
Tonight, I’ve been knocking back the lime White Claws like it’s a race, and now I’m onto beer because the other team keep scoring cups.
I’ve been counting down the days until Friday since Monday. When your primary caregiver cares more about finances than your high school progression, you naturally turn to other sources to feel validated.
Booze validates.
So does a hookup.
And tonight I’m out to achieve both.
The three bikers behind me can give me a ride if they like.
Middle-aged men aren’t supposed to be hot, so I don’t know why I’m so tempted to remove my panties and let these guys fight it out for my pussy.
Maybe it’s the masks that make them attractive, but then again, Drew Tinseltane in the corner—the creepy-eyed basketball jock—still doesn’t look fuckable, even with half a face concealed.
One look at the motorcyclists and I’m ash. All three of them stare at me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before. High school boys look at you only for a second, and then flick their eyes somewhere else, because at the end of the day, like me, they’re insecure pubescents with undeveloped frontal cortexes.
These men stare at me like nothing in the world matters. It’s refreshing. Also a little anxiety-inducing. Normally it’smedriving the conversation, making the male species falter, not the other way around.
A lump gets stuck in my throat every time we speak.
Their age intimidates me.
Their confidence too.
The other team fires a ball into one of our cups.
“Drink up!”
So I do.
I could use Dutch courage.
I squash the cup. Turn back around to them. “What are your names?”
“It’s a masquerade, darling,” says one of them, finger pressed to his lips. “No telling.”
This guy is the tallest. Like, unnaturally tall. He’s closer to seven foot, and wears sunglasses on his head that keep his silver locks swept back. I develop a neck ache from looking up at his face, but it’s worth the pain.
He brushes his hand against mine, and tingles explode up and down my body.
