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Here is a short sample from the book:
I rushed to the back staircase and popped two buttons on my blouse. Nobody else worked in the basement. Just Levy. No one else would see.
In my wedge heels, I had to be careful walking down those slatted metal stairs. It really was scary in the basement. Everything was either concrete or metal, and the only sign of life came from Levy’s blaring headphones. She obviously hadn’t noticed me yet, and I gripped the metal railing, just watching her work.
There was something about dykes who looked like truck drivers that really turned me on. That was Levy’s style—dark blue pants like mechanics wore, and an unbuttoned short-sleeve shirt over a tank top. Her sandy hair was about shoulder-length, but she always wore it back in a ponytail, with a baseball cap that had a bulldog on it.
Just the sight of her made me tremble. I was so wet she could probably fist me in one go if she wanted to.
And that was the kicker: so far, she hadn’t expressed any interest in me. None. At all. Every shift, I dressed a little more femme—brighter lipstick, shorter skirt, higher heels. Anything to grab her attention.
When I finally worked up the courage to call her from the bottom of the stairs, she didn’t hear me. I crept toward her cage until I was close enough to weave my fingers through and shake it.