Shakin' It For Daddy (The Panty Droppers) Read Free

be civilized to us. Without us you wouldn’t have a job,” Ms. Spaulding pointed out.
    “Dare to dream!” Mika fired back, clapping her hands with sarcasm firing through her veins. But her next words were cut off by the chiming of the tiny bells above the diner’s door. She turned in time to see a man—a sexy as sin man—walking through the door, removing his no doubt, designer shades and raking his long, dark hair out of his face with his fingers.
    Her pussy pulsed slightly at the sight of him and every move he made was as though in slow motion. His immaculately tailored, black suit hugged his massive body perfectly as though he was born wearing them. His shoes screamed expensive. When he turned his attention to her, she sucked in some air for they were the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.
    She wondered what a man of that caliber was doing in Simora, but didn’t voice her thoughts. Walking over to him, she cleared her throat. “May I help you?”
    “Yes—I’d like a table,” he replied.
    “Sure. Follow me please.”
    Even though at Mingy’s they never walked anyone to their table, Mika felt as if she had to spend as much time with this stranger as possible. Being closer to him, she could smell him. The hot, musky smell of man, danced around her senses, weakening her knees. She stepped aside, allowing him to sit down at the corner table.
    “Would you like some coffee to start?” she asked as politely as she could.
    “Actually,” he said, staring up into her face. “Could I get some orange juice? It’s hotter than hell outside and I’ve been stuck in a car from Braison.”
    Smiling, Mika nodded and turned to leave.
    “Wait,” he called.
    “Yes?”
    “What’s your name? If I’m going to let a lady feed me, I at least have to know her name.”
    Mika shook her head. “Well at least the pick-up lines stay the same.” She turned to grin at him. “It’s Mika.”
    “Well, Mika. It’s a pleasure to have you feed me.”
    Oh! I’d love to feed you alright.
    As she walked away she had flashes of this beautiful stranger tied to her bed with her sitting on his face. She could feel her juices running downward even as she navigated the tables and the counter to reach for a clean glass and a jar of orange juice.
    “Mika?” Farley’s voice crashed through her thoughts.
    She turned to glare at him.
    “The glass is full and you’re wasting orange juice.” Farley pointed. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
    Looking down to see what he was talking about, Mika saw that her shoes were covered in orange juice. The glass she held was overflowing. Swearing, she placed it down, grabbed a new cup and paid attention to filling it. Placing it on a tray—something she never did—she dropped a straw into it while kicking her legs to get the excess wetness off. She tugged her uniform into place, lifted her chin, picked up her tray and walked back to the stranger. She placed the glass before him before tucking the tray beneath her arm and grabbing an old notepad from her apron’s pocket with a pencil. She’d been there so long she didn’t really need the notepad. Remembering things was her specialty. But in a bid to look professional, she was going to pull out all the stops.
    “What would you like to eat?”
    “Scrambled eggs and sausages please,” he said. “And toast if you have it.”
    She scribbled on the notepad.
    * * * *
    The moment Degan saw her, he knew. She’d gain a little more in the hips and looked a little worn down, but it was Mika. It was the same girl he’d seen that day in the halls and wanted. Years later, she was the same sexy woman he ached to get to know. But he wasn’t sure how to approach her. What would he say?
    Hey Mika, it’s Degan Moira? The guy that would watch you secretly during high school.
    Hey Mika, it’s Degan—I want you and your body in the worse way.
    Though he wasn’t hungry, he allowed her to lead him to a table, watching her perfect ass swing almost