P*rnstation
I pretended not to notice the way his gaze dropped to them before snapping back to my face.
“Looking for something specific?” he asked, voice deep and rough, like he didn’t use it much.
“Something tall and thick,” I said, letting the double meaning hang in the air as I walked closer. “Fraser fir. Biggest one you’ve got left.”
He smirked, just a flicker at the corner of his mouth, and led me toward the back of the lot where the premium trees were stacked. The scent of fresh pine was everywhere, sharp and intoxicating. We stopped in front of a beautiful eight-footer, full and perfect.