When they got back into the jeep, he squinted at her and shook his head.“What?” she asked.“What happens if you don’t get that last three pound... sold?” Bill swung the engine and nosed out of the brush. Frankie’s response was a barely audible whisper.“I didn’t hear what you said,” he responded.“I… I don’t know, okay.”“Is he the type that would, well...?” Bill pointed gun fingers at her and flicked his wrist upward.“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, and I have no one else to sell to.”They. Fucker.Natasha and John had both been good about their 'fuck crazy' until they met each other, but they'd opened the deviant, sneaky flood gates, and now Natasha couldn't stop. She suspected it was the same with John, but she didn't like to think about that. That meant he was fucking somebody on the side, and it wasn't her. Probably some chick even more obedient and sex-obsessed than she was. Well, more obedient maybe, it wasn't possible that whoever it was could possibly want to fuck him more. More

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