Excerpt from Gemma (Continued)

around the mug, like it's still hot, drinkable, sits there, like he has every right. Takes a sip, something to do. Waiting for Buddy, just on the off chance, pretty sure actually, that he's not going to show. But he's waiting just in case.

The waitress with the blue mascara slides by, fresh pot of steaming coffee. Hazen gestures her over. Not that he wants more. Stuff tastes like shit. Badly brewed. Already feeling jittery, drunk two cups of the stuff, but what the hell, he'll give buddy ten more minutes and then call it a day. What a bullshitter.

Just getting ready to leave, settling up his bill, the waitress smelling like cheap talcum powder and last night's sex. Settling up his bill, when Buddy waltzes in, thirty minutes late. Hazen had thought he'd been stood up, played for a fool. The fucker was just blowing smoke up his ass. Telling him all about this Gemma chick he was banging. Saying what a great lay she was.

"You've never had it good until you've tried some of this," Buddy'd say. "The kids twelve, talk about tight, best lay this side of the Rockies, and beautiful, too. A regular little Lolita. Insatiable. Can't get enough, begs for the cock, twenty-four, seven." Said it with the satisfied smirk on his face that made Hazen want to call his bluff.

Hazen thought Buddy was just blowing smoke up his ass, but then in he walks, the kid in tow, and she is perfect. Absolutely perfect. Long blonde hair, pale blonde, the color of summer grass along the highway, a natural blonde, and Hazen Wood wonders about her heritage. Swedish ancestors? Danish perhaps? Beautiful blonde hair, a natural. Yes sir, she is perfect, just how Buddy had described her. High tight ass perched on lanky colt legs, legs not quite filled out. No tits, none visible anyway. Maybe just little buds, little swollen buds hiding beneath her T-shirt the nipples just starting to swell. Absolutely perfect. Well worth it, the wait, the money.

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