1
JACK
I’d never seen a woman stop in the middle of the thoroughfare before, especially not one as busy as Butte’s Granite Street. She was a small thing, but all soft curves. Her modest dress did nothing to hide plump breasts, a trim waist and rounded hips. The green color of the garment made her red hair vibrant in the sunshine. It was striking, almost blindingly vivid, even pulled back into a prim bun at her nape. Her mouth was open in the shape of an O and in an instant, I wondered what those rosy red lips would feel like stretched about my c**k. I’d noticed all of that about her in the few seconds I’d stared at her. In times such as this, it paid to be a detective. When my senses returned—barely, since all the blood had drained from my head right to my c**k—I wondered if she was rig
