Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
The guy stumbled as he got to his feet, blood on the tile, but he managed to pull himself up and shove through the crowd that had gathered to witness the spectacle.
My eyes shifted to Axel, his muscular arms like sculptures on either side of his body. He watched the guy before he turned to me, and like nothing had happened, he pulled out the chair beside me and draped his arm over the back of my chair, publicly claiming me to shoo away all the other flies. “You alright?”
My friends all looked at me, probably wondering how I knew him. “I’m fine. Not the first time I’ve been called a bitch, and it won’t be the last.”
That handsome smirk appeared on his face. “I like that attitude.” His eyes dropped down over my body, giving it a quick once-over without caring if I witnessed the entire thing. “I like that dress.”
“You always say that.”
“And I always mean it.” He leaned closer to me. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure. Your choice.”
He left my side and walked to the bar, and the second he arrived, the crowd parted around him, like he would start another fight if someone stood too close. The bartender was happy to serve him, ignoring the other customers who had already been standing there, and headed straight to him.
“Who is that?” Shelly asked from beside me, ignoring her date.
“He works with my father.”
“Do all men who work with your father fight for your honor like that?”
I smirked. “He’s shown his interest before, but I was with Ryan.”
“Well, Ryan is gone.” She glanced at him at the bar. “And this guy is foiiiine.”
I looked past her at his tight ass in his jeans. “Oh, I know, girl.”
“Go home with him.”
“It’s not smart to mix business with pleasure—”
“It’s not smart to let that man walk away. That’s what’s not smart.”
Axel got the drinks and then returned, putting down two old-fashioneds.
“No vodka and cranberry?” I asked. “No cosmo?”
He grinned. “I’ve seen you handle a real drink, sweetheart.” He took a sip and returned it to the table. His arm had returned to the back of my chair as he leaned in close to talk to me over the sound of the music. “I’m not buying you a glass with an umbrella in it.” He adjusted his arm, and when he did, his fingers brushed across my exposed shoulder. It was unclear whether it was on purpose or not, but it made goose bumps form on my arms.
“What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you,” he said. “Out with my boys.”
“Picking up a date?”
“Something like that.” He took another drink before he returned it to the table. “You sure you’re alright?”
“He didn’t scare me.”
He grinned. “I saw the way you tripped him.” He nodded appreciatively. “Attagirl.”
“I wanted to punch him in the face.”
“That would have been better.” He withdrew his arm from the back of my chair. “I’ll let you get back to your evening. If some guy bothers you again, go with the punch.” He rose from his seat, grabbed his drink, and then walked across the bar until he found his guys at a table, all smoking cigars, drinks across the surface of the table, beautiful women in most of their laps.
I looked at my drink again, my lipstick stain on the edge.
“What just happened?” Shelly asked.
Axel had wanted me to dump Ryan for the longest time, but now that I was available, he’d lost interest. I knew it wasn’t because of the chase, but because I’d dismissed him enough times. If I wanted something to happen, it would be up to me to make the first move. “I think he gave up on me.”
“You need to grab that seat in his lap before someone else takes it. Or sit on his face. He seems like he’d be into that.”
I knew how disappointed my father would be if he was aware I’d made things complicated with one of his partners, and I knew how messy a relationship could get. But maybe it didn’t have to be a relationship.
Maybe it could just be a night.
I looked over at him again, seeing him sitting there with his knees far apart, his arm over the back of the empty chair beside him, laughing at something one of the guys said. He never looked over at me. Never wondered if I was looking at him. If he was playing hard to get, he fooled me.
His gray shirt fit his hard body so well, tight across his powerful chest and arms, but it was loose over his firm stomach. I imagined him shirtless, all muscle, all strength. I pictured him flipping tires at the gym in nothing but sweatpants, sweat gleaming on his beautiful skin.
I grabbed my drink and made my move, but just as I stood up, I saw another woman make hers. Her eyes flashed to me, like she knew my intention and was determined to reach him before I could. She was blond and pretty, wearing a dress as scandalous as mine.