Scott Pickett Lemonade Mouth Novels & Stories

Jenna snorts. Poté pours us all a shot, lines up the salt and lemon parts. “Here you go ladies, now drink up!” He says smirking before we all lick the salt of our hands, shoot the tequila and suck on the lemon part. The tequila burns in the back of my throat and I grunt a bit, goddess this stuff is strong.

I smiled, “and it’s great to meet you all!” I chugged back another drink. “Woah she can handle her liquor, eh boss?” Jason chimed in. I sighed and told them it is fantastic scotch. “No doubt, it’s Jameson’s brand” Ricky explained. “Simply the best out there.” “No need for flattery boys.” Jameson laughs. Liv moved to the bar stool on my right and we started chatting. “You need to try these rocket shots that Ken makes!” Liv said joyfully. “2 rocket shots coming up!” Ken cheered.

Smiling, I held it open for her. Once I was inside, I headed over to the travel products aisle where tiny tubes of toothpaste and wet wipes were. I plucked the bottle of generic ibuprofen from its place and then walked over to the fridge to grab Freya And I two sodas. She liked Dr. Pepper and I preferred Coke Zero. Well, Uncle James preferred Coke Zero and I had just learned to tolerate it. Freya said it was my reward for volunteering. She must not have realized that my reward was just to get out of the house for a few minutes, but I wasn't one to complain.

He was smirking while looking at her. "How did it go?" Briana inquired. "The meeting with the boss? It went well. I leave him alone in the room so that he can focus on reading my report," Scott replied casually. "Do you want a drink?" Briana offered. "Yes, please!" Scott answered brightly. Briana rose to her feet and went in the direction of the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned with a cold bottle of refreshing lime juice. "Thank you," Scott said, drinking the juice bottom up and putting the empty bottle on the center table. "I'll go back inside the room, or Sir Jack might get angry," he said, winking at her, and he went back to the room.

Scott chuckled. "I just wanted to say, you have the sexiest ass I've ever seen." The statement suddenly raised her eyebrows. "Oh yes?" "Really!" exclaimed the man reassuringly. “Like a grade A melon” "So, you're saying I have melon butts?" Grace burst out laughing. Instead of laughing along, Scott just snorted in disgust. "Why even laugh at it?" Scott put on a sulky look. "I'm serious, you know." "I'm laughing because I'm happy," Grace said, stirring the golden liquid in the cup in her hand. "You're the first person to openly give such a compliment, be very specific."

“And I need one.” “Gotcha.” Scars nodded at Cole, who was out the door in a flash, headed over to the club garage. “Something to drink?” “Water, please.” “Juice!” Cindy piped up. “Apple!” “Uhhhhh,” Scars said, at a loss. Satan’s didn’t run to juice, didn’t actually serve up much more than the hard stuff, and even though he was damn good and sure that Sam could use a shot, he had to get his niece something to drink. “No juice, babyface. Water?”

Pancake, coffee, scrambled egg, fried rice, hotdog, and fresh slices of apple, mango, strawberries, and grapes. “I have a present for you,” “What is it?” And as Keatton turned around. He saw Damon holding the glass where his cum and saliva are mixed in it. “What is that? Why are they bubbling? Daddy and kinda seemed familiar.?” He said. He was squinting his eyes as he looked intently at it.

And that was saying a lot because Juicy liked to eat. "What is in this...? Banana?" But she didn't have any bananas. Troy was nodding. "You had a box of instant banana pudding in your pantry. That's the secret ingredient—not so secret anymore, I guess." "Pudding?" She savored another bite of pancake. "I would have never thought..." There wasn't one raw spot on the bacon, nor was it burnt; it was just right. Juicy peeked at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

“Oooh! Fried pickles?” I point to the stand a few yards away. “God, you’re fucking cute.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and kisses my temple. “Whatever you want.” We get an order of fried pickles and a boozy lemonade which I’m really not sure what that consists of and we start walking around.

"Yo, brother! Taste this! I told you I was good at making lemonade. This is one of my latest recipes, a secret blend!" I take the glass, my fingers trembling ever so slightly, willing to take anything that would distract me from that piece of temptation, that walking, breathing, utterly captivating piece of temptation. I bring the glass to my lips, savoring the icy coldness, and drink it slowly, feeling the refreshing liquid cascading down my throat, a momentary reprieve from the inferno raging within me. I nod my head in astonished approval. "Oh my God, Stanley, that is very, very good," I manage to say, my voice a little rougher than usual. He chuckles, pleased.