The Game - A book by Michael McDonald
Author:Michael McDonald

    The Game

    Published by Michael J. McDonald at Smashwords

    Copyright 2011 Michael J. McDonald

    Image: SalvatoreVuono /

    The Game

    “Open your eyes.”

    Ah, shit, this better not be that Tom Cruise dream again. It was afair film, but there are some things a guy doesn’t want to have toexplain to himself when he wakes up. It’s that kind of voicethough, so sultry and docile yet bristling under its woollen coatwith darts of impatience that just lets you know you better not makeher repeat it. And it’s clearly a her. When there’s a woman inyour ear at this time of the morning, it’s probably worth waking upfor.

    So I open my eyes, and I catch my breath, though to be more accuratemy breath catches itself on the back of my throat and I feel asthough I’m choking on a very, very long icicle. Brain’s stillgoing like the clappers, though. Heart too. There’s something youdon’t see every day. Unless you’re me. What a vision. Thesecond most wanted woman in the world (the first being wanted forrather different pursuits and probably not one to get much sleep),posing in the sexiest doorframe in the world, wearing the luckiestshirt in the universe. Martians invented shirts, right? Who elsewould come up with a concept such as a loose shirt tail that didnothing of any use except either make you look stupid while it wasout or fat when you tucked it in?

    I could see the lower seam of her shirt tail in the opening betweenher parted thighs. And a small part of my brain decided six minuteswas kind of a long time to stare at someone, so blurted out aresponse at last. “That’s my shirt!”

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