E.G. Saunders took the thriller genre, blindfolded it, bent it over, and f*cked it hard. It’s the same feeling his main character got when he was enticed—or was it threatened?—by a dominant, seemingly crazed beauty, into a story that will have you clutching your privates. And whether that’s out of fear or pleasure is up to you.

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Chapter 9

The only J’s I knew of was down on shit street by the shipbuilding yards. The only reason I knew that was because at one point I used to make “deliveries” down there because a chick I let move in with me took off with my savings I had stuck in the mattress.

Yes, I actually did that. Shut up.

My logic was that no one would be stupid enough to do such a thing, so who would actually look there? In my brilliance, I crammed the mattress with 25k of my hard-earned.

I wasn’t completely stupid, though, I cut into the Sealy and shoved packs of 20’s and 50’s everywhere around the springs and to the four corners. I figure it must’ve taken my live-in a good 25-30 minutes to get all of it. My only consolation was that she had cut herself in the process and left a little trail of blood.

Yeah, she got all of it.

She was persistent, the little fucker.

And I do mean little. Thai. A nipple over 4 1/2 feet. Walking in the bars, everyone thought I was bangin’ a child. I almost broke up with her for that reason. I don’t normally give a fuck what other people think, but in this case, it was almost warranted. Even with all my twisted sexual behavior, pedophiles are the one group of people I’d cross the street to kill. I didn’t want to be grouped in with them in any way.

So I kept her mostly secret. That was another stupid move. Few people saw me with her. I didn’t mention her to anyone. Hell, I didn’t even brag about fucking her—and she was tight. And hairless. Everything a guy would find brag-worthy. At the time, I don’t know if her hairlessness was genetic or not, but I never saw her shave. I never felt stubble. Even her ass was hairless. And man, I never tasted better ass.

Yes, I had enough sense to make sure she was actually of age. Shortly after meeting her, I pretty much demanded that I see her ID. I wasn’t going to take her word—not with her broken English and diminutive form. It turned out that she was 20 and had just gotten her work permit. She had come directly from Thailand. Had family there who were going to receive most of her paycheck, once she got a job and started making some good money.

After that first hairless sex experience, I checked her ID again to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. She was legit. Turns out that a lot of Thai girls were like that. Some Filipino’s, too.

Reassured, I honed my pussy-eating skills on her. That was about the only thing of worth I got out of her.

When I came home one day and found all her clothes gone and my mattress torn up, I took two days off to cuss at her and at myself. I walked the city in a fury hunting for her, then I notified the police. Then I spent another day cussing, drinking, and missing that pussy.

I was still a guy. Pussy like that was rare.

I then had to take a few side gigs for Thad. “Deliveries.”

I’m sure the deliveries were dirty.