I smirk as the first few notes from Poison’s Every Rose Has Its Thorn begin to play across my sound system and I shake my head.
Maria certainly has eclectic taste.
“I love this song!” She shouts from the living room and starts to sing.
Badly.
But I fucking love it.
The final delivery of Maria’s stuff arrived two days ago, and I have to admit, the woman has more shit than I ever imagined.
We’ve been unpacking all day. She’s wearing a pair of shorts that I’d spank her ass for if she tried to leave the house with them, but I have to admit I don’t hate how she looks every time she bends over in them to grab another knick-knack from one of the eight boxes of stuff my guys removed from her apartment.
I grin as I pick up one of the seventeen shot glasses, she has in the box marked kitchen.
This one says Dallas, Texas. There’s one with big glass boobs on it that says Fort Lauderdale. And another with the Statue of Liberty etched into it.