Miss Apprehended - Miranda Elaine Page 0,1

spin on every song. I’ll win them all over in the end. I have no doubt about it.

The typical weekend crowd is out tonight. Old men escaping their nagging wives, guys I went to school with looking for a quick lay, and tramped-up girls eager to give it to them. I know them all, and at the same time, I don’t. With a dad who was in and out of jail for conning people and a momma who left before I could walk, my family was not the most well received. No one wants to be friends with the con artist’s daughter. Anyway, I’m more focused on furthering my singing career than worrying about men and dating. I know that, after my pop album goes number one, I will have time to worry about silly things like boys, dating, and losing my virginity.

I look around and see only one unfamiliar face nursing a bottle of Budweiser in the corner. And trust me, this is a face I will not soon forget. He’s strikingly handsome, in the works-for-a-living sort of way. His tight, black T-shirt shows off the kinds of muscles you only get from working hard. His deeply tanned skin is accentuated by dark hair and deep-brown eyes. He’s the kind of man young girls dream about and grown women lust over. I may be innocent, but I’m no stranger to a fantasy. The moment I lay my eyes on him, I know he will soon star in every single one I have for the foreseeable future. I can’t help but stare for a moment more before forcing myself to turn away and focus on why I am here.

“I bet even you would ride that man like a prize-winning stallion,” someone says behind me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Hannah, my roommate and only real friend. She also happens to be the town whore, but who am I to judge? If she is happy, then I am happy. We couldn’t be more different, yet we just work. She is my biggest cheerleader, always showing up to my gigs—though she never leaves them alone—and I make sure to pick her up a large box of condoms on the weeks I go to the grocery store.

“You ain’t wrong,” I agree, stunning Hannah—because I never show interest in the men around here.

You try being labeled a criminal just because of who your family is and then you’ll see how many men are waiting to beat your door down. I find it’s best to keep my nose down and focus on my goals—like getting out of this podunk town.

I make my way past the stage and the bar, toward the small prep area in the back. I share the space with the other female performers and patrons who are touching their lipstick up or relieving themselves of the several bottles of beer they have already consumed this evening. It’s not an ideal situation, but I’m going to make the most of the night. I grab my makeup bag and my hairbrush and make sure I’m picture ready. You never know who might snap a quick shot to post to social media, and I am not one to turn free press down. I tease my blond hair out, which has somehow fallen flat between when I left my house and arrived at the bar. Then I reapply my signature hot-pink lipstick.

With my makeup fixed and a new coat of hair spray ensuring that every hair stays in place, I am ready to make my entrance. I head out of the dressing room, toward the main stage. Before I can register what is happening, my hands are yanked behind my back and a pair of handcuffs are slapped on my wrists. I find my body pressed up against the hall wall, and what feels like a large, well-built man has pushed up behind me, rubbing his hands all over my body.

“You’re coming with me,” he growls out.

Then it finally registers what’s happening.

“Shit. Not again,” I groan.

Jake

“Stay still, Tillie. I’m sick and tired of chasing your crazy ass around town,” I snarl out to the insane female I have pressed up against the wall.

A perfectly round ass is wiggling all too enticingly against my already hardening cock, and I let out an exasperated sigh. Stupid dick. Clearly, it doesn't know what’s good for us. Peppermint and some kind of floral soap assail my senses. I almost back away so I can take a harder look at this