I tried not to inhale his masculine scent, covered up by the cheap cologne he was wearing. Oh, yeah. This dude is Haitian. I ‘accidentally’ nudged...him in the ribs then excused myself. He looked at me, smiled, and said everything was alright. I heard a French accent in his voice. Definitely Haitian. Not straight from the Republic of Haiti, though. He sounds like a Montreal guy. There are lots of Haitians in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. I look at him, smile and ask him that question. Why didn't she have abetter car? He paid her enough, didn't he? He ignored catcalls fromsome of the plant workers. Did Amber have to put up with them all thetime? He'd have to ask her. There was a roar and he saw Amber zoom byin his Porsche, wearing a big shit eating grin. He sighed enviously. Itwas weird; he felt his large breasts strain against the bra. 'I - no,SHE - really has some bra busters!' he thought. The car didn't want tostart, but Jake gave it a little more gas and away he went -. "Command me, my Lord." He said, unable to keep his nervousness entirely from his voice. Hort's hand flicked a gesture towards the portal."Go through the portal, observe where it links to then come back immediately." The soldier looked suddenly pale."My Lord?" Lilien caught the flash of anger that passed across Hort's eyes."Don't make me repeat myself. Go." There was no undertone of anger in his voice, but the low tones of menace sent shivers down Lilien's spine. The soldier snapped to his feet. Back when our Myspace top eight friends list dictated everything about our social hierarchies, the thing I would look forward to the most after coming home from my part-time job at a pizza place was checking my inbox to see what he had planned for our evening. I was the only girl my age who didn't have a cell phone, so I had to sneak off with the cordless home phone or sit at my parents' old, clunky desktop computer just waiting for those much anticipated Myspace messages.Night after night,.
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