Heathen (Cerberus MC Las Vegas Chapter #1) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Cerberus MC Las Vegas Chapter Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
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I see a woman in a very expensive-looking mermaid costume, and it makes me jealous of the amount of boobs she has in order to hold such an elaborate thing up. Another woman in a fairy costume makes me smile because the strobe light flashing in the room makes her look ethereal and perfect.

I now fully understand Morgan hiring an expensive videographer and photographer. People are going to cherish some of the images shot tonight because this party is more extravagant than it was last year, and that's saying something because last year it was incredibly nice.

I grow more and more impressed with my friend's vision as I walk around the room. Every tiny thing was thought of and catered to. As lovely as everything is, I sure hope she hired a cleaning crew to come and get her house back in order tomorrow. There's going to be a lot to clean up, and I know I won't have the energy for it.

Another waiter offers me a drink, his tray filled with a smoldering concoction, and I almost cave, wishing I felt a little less of everything right now.

This party is amazing, and the music is perfect, but it doesn't begin to touch on the hurt still brewing inside of me.

I reach for the drink but pull my hand back just before my fingers wrap around the stem.

In telling me about his job, Ellis was adamant about making me promise that I wouldn't risk someone drugging me, no matter where I was or who I was with.

"You sure?" the man asks, his voice smoky and full of challenge.

"No thank you," I say, but instead of him trying a second time to get me to take a drink, he dips his head.

"The green drinks are non-alcoholic if that's what you're looking for," he offers, pointing to a waitress on the other side of the room. "And the trays with the red lights on them are gluten-free."

"Thanks," I say to him, but he's already walking away to offer drinks to others.

I head to a station in the corner and grab a bottle of water instead, turning back to the party to people watch. Despite the music thumping through the house, I've never been one to dance at events like this.

Who am I kidding?

Morgan's parties are the only time I've ever been to something like this, and as popular as she is, I doubt she knows all of these people personally. I know from her talking about the guest list that they're all from different aspects of her life including work, and people she has met online. Morgan has never met a stranger and she has had enough experiences in life that she's capable of carrying on a conversation with just about anyone, no matter what stage of life they're in. I find myself once again jealous of my outgoing friend and her ability to fit into any situation.

I feel the presence of someone beside me, but I ignore them, hoping they'll understand my lack of attention means I don't want to speak to anyone.

But instead of the stranger catching the hint, they step in closer, so close that I can feel their costume brush my arm.

I take a step back and look in their direction, but I can't seem to form words when I see Ellis standing beside me.

The worst color purple I've ever seen is wrapped tightly around his face. If I hadn't spent hours in the early morning light, staring at his face the other day like a crazy person, I might not recognize him.

A green stem protrudes from the top of the outfit, and it confuses me until I take another step back and look at the costume fully.

"An eggplant?" I ask as laughter bubbles from my throat.

"I was a dick," he says, his voice full of regret.

"Very creative," I say, my heart racing at not knowing what this might mean.

It doesn't stop hope from blooming inside of me like a late spring garden, but I can't let myself get lost in hope again. I've spent the last day and a half in pain, feeling tortured. I won't survive him popping back up just to hurt me again, but he holds up a hand, silencing me when I open my mouth to tell him as much.

"I never should've let you leave," he says, taking a step closer to me so I can hear his words. "I should've begged you to stay."

"You wanted me gone," I argue, unwilling, now that he's in front of me, to let him lie so easily. "I heard Rooster tell you not to be hasty, and you told him it was time for me to go."

The smile that tugs up the corner of his mouth makes me wish I had taken that drink from the waiter just so I could throw it in his face.



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