The Quickie
The QuickieI met Lenisha first; at the club, of course. But isn’t that how it always starts? I was drunk, flailing around the dance floor like a possessed voodoo priestess. It wasn’t until the song ended and the spell was broken that I even noticed her watching me from the bar. A muscle-bound stud with the body of a prize fighter; her skin was brown and smooth; her dark hair, long and locked. She wore a T-shirt, baggy jeans and a pair of midnight blue Timberland’s, giving her that thug appeal...