Ewan
The shop that Taryn works in is not far from my home. I swallow my surprise at the thought that she was always so close, and I didn't have a clue. But I’m here now, and I’m ready to help her.
It’s past noon, and the parking lot is riddled with vehicles.
Carrying a small bag around her shoulder, Taryn walks out of the shop a moment later. She’s wearing a short jean skirt that emphasizes her long legs and a midriff Beatles t-shirt that makes her breasts look like firm, bouncy apples. By the jiggle of her breasts, I wonder if she’s wearing a brassiere. She wasn’t wearing one when I kissed her yesterday. I didn’t feel any straps constricting her silken skin. This time she’s wearing flip-flops. Without a word, she slides into the passenger seat and buckles her seat belt.
“How long h
