Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Jules’s well-hung bouncer hadn’t yet joined us, so we had frequent visitors offering to buy us drinks or asking us to dance. Two clean-cut guys stopped by our table.
“Can we buy you ladies a drink?” The broader one smiled confidently.
Dimples. Damn. I was pretty sure he didn’t get turned down often.
“Thanks, but our drinks are on the house tonight, and I have a massive crush on my boss.”
One eyebrow perked. “Lucky boss. How about a dance then?”
I looked to Jules.
“Not me,” she said. “I’ve been waiting fifteen years, remember? Christian is going to be off soon.”
Politely, I declined. “No, thanks. Not tonight.”
After they’d walked away, Jules said, “The tall one was hot. Why didn’t you dance with him?”
“What’s the point?” I brought my drink to my lips to sip, only to discover after tilting my head back that my glass was empty.
“Of dancing or of men in general? Because my answers would be pretty different.”
“Of dancing with him. I’m just going to compare.”
Jules gave me a funny smile. “Tell me what you like about Bossman.”
“He’s smart, cocky, hard, but sort of soft at the same time. Does that make sense?” I thought she was distracted looking for Christian when I caught her eyes over my head. “Are you even paying attention to me?”
“I am.” She tossed back the rest of the liquid in her fancy glass. “So what were you saying? You liked his persistence? That it was a turn-on?”
I hadn’t said that, but she wasn’t wrong. “I swear, if he pushed me up against the door of my office, I’d have no willpower. Him being the boss is why I’m keeping away from him, yet his bossiness totally does it for me.”
Jules was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” When she just kept on smiling, I knew. I knew. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?”
A warm hand touched my bare shoulder.
I closed my eyes and mumbled to my best friend, “I’m going to kill you.”
She shimmied out of the booth and kissed me on the cheek. “I should check and see if my Hulk is off work yet. Be back in a bit.” She wiggled her fingers in a cute wave. “Hey, Bossman.” Then she disappeared.
Chase didn’t even have the decency to feign modesty. He slipped into the seat next to me, rather than sitting across the table as Jules had been. God, I wanted to smack that cocky, full-of-himself smile off his face. His gorgeous, perfectly chiseled, God, I want to kiss you even more now that I’m drunk face.
“What are you doing here, Chase?”
“Making your dreams come true, apparently.”
I turned, facing him head on for the first time, which was probably a mistake. He was too good-looking for my sober thoughts; alcohol could only make things less bearable. Tonight he wore a tuxedo. Or more properly described, he had on a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and a bow tie hung loosely around his neck. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing tanned, toned forearms. He really had great forearms. I was a sucker for forearms. Had I said that already? Even if I had, it warranted repeating.
But the thing that did me in was, surprisingly, his hair. Normally unruly, tonight it was parted dramatically at the side and slicked back. Couple that with his flawless, tan skin, clean-shaven face, and a carved, masculine jawline, and he could have just walked out of The Great Gatsby. It totally threw me off.
“You look…so different.”
“Different bad or different good?”
I couldn’t lie. I’d had too much truth serum. “You look like an old-time movie star, very classically handsome. I like it.”
“I’ll be investing in additional hair gel first thing tomorrow morning.”
A little smile I’d tried to hold back escaped. Chase ran his thumb down my cheek, then traced the corner of my lips.
“Maybe a case, if it brings out that smile,” he added.
“What are you doing here?”
“You said you were coming here the other day.”
I had but… “Shouldn’t you be at the charity event?”
“It’s almost over. Besides, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night.” His arm was slung casually over the back of the bench seat we shared, and his fingers began to caress the exposed skin of my shoulders. “I wasn’t sure if I should come, and now I’m glad I did.”
“Why is that?”
“You like my persistence. What was that you said? My bossiness turns you on?”
I rolled my eyes. “I need another drink.”
“Yes, let’s both. Triple Peppermint Schnapps?”
Chase flagged down the waitress and ordered us both drinks. Looking around the busy club, he asked, “So do you do this often? Go out clubbing with your friends?”
“Not much anymore. I like to dance, but it’s kind of a meat market.”
His finger stopped tracing. “Is that what you were doing tonight? Shopping for meat?”