Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357
The echo of my heels on the linoleum had everyone looking in our direction. A tiny pink leash dangled from my fingers, the matching collar locked tight around Jon’s neck. He wore a black sports coat and slacks, no shirt. His sexy chest and abs were on display as I totted him through the nail salon.
Older women gasped, and younger ones giggled. The little nail techs leaned into each other to whisper about the two of us in a language I couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter, though. It was nail day, and nail day is my favorite fucking day.