Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
He set my bag on the floor beside the bed. “Stay as long as you need, Red. No time limit for you, you hear me?” He pointed to the bed. “Get some sleep, and when you’re ready, come join the party and unwind.”
With that, he slipped from the room. I sank onto the bed, sighing at the softness of the mattress—so much better than Dirk’s piece of shit bed.
I glanced down at my duffel and grunted. I’d deal with it later. Sleep was calling my name, and this bed was way too comfortable. I’d sleep now and worry about everything else later.
CHAPTER THREE
Johnston
I felt like my teeth were going to vibrate out of my gums. The bass was thumping from whatever hip-hop song was playing—something from the early 2000s. The walls were shaking, and the floor was vibrating beneath my feet.
But so far, the party was a hell of a good one. I was pretty sure Gidget, the Texas charter’s Sergeant at Arms, and Blayke, my Vice President, were both right on the verge of getting one of the club girls naked and sharing her between them. Fuck—couldn’t blame them. She was curvy in all the right places, and those heels she had on would make any man want to fuck her.
“Yo, Aaliyah!” Drew shouted. I snapped my head up, almost dropping my beer. When the fuck had she gotten down here?
Sure enough, she was coming out of the back hallway, a pair of tiny ass shorts on with a crop top, her nipples straining against the tight, black fabric. The curve of her ass cheeks were visible at the bottom of her shorts as she turned and accepted Drew’s hug.
Jealousy crawled through my veins. Aaliyah was family; I knew that. She’d been working here for two years now, had taken all the guys’ shit and given it right back to them time and time again, never backing down. She was tough as nails, and the guys loved her. And even though I knew that love was just familial love—at least, that’s what I told myself so I didn’t feel murderous every time they touched her—it still pissed me right the fuck off when I saw any of them even breathing too close to her.
“Dance with me?” I couldn’t hear him, but I saw his lips form those words, and red momentarily tinted my vision.
Growling, I lurched up from my chair and made my way over to the dance floor just as they reached it. I quickly cut in. “I think the prez deserves a dance with her first.” It was an asshole move, and I knew it. But fuck if I was letting anything happen between the two of them tonight.
“Sure thing,” Drew said, quickly taking a step back from Aaliyah and dropping his hands. I grasped her hips and dragged her forward so she was flush against my body. I had no doubt she could feel how hard I was for her, but I was beyond the point of giving a fuck.
She quirked a single brow at me, a playful smirk tilting her lips. “The prez deserves a dance with me first, huh?” she teased, amusement lingering in her eyes.
I just grunted. We weren’t moving, but I didn’t care. I was afraid if she moved even the slightest bit, I’d lose whatever last bit of control I had and drag her to my room. Heat thrummed through my veins. Her curves were soft against my hardened body, the skin of her hips smooth against my calloused thumbs.
My mouth was practically watering at the mere thought of tasting her. Would she be sweet? I bet she would be. Fucking addictive, too. I’d been addicted to her from the very first moment her gorgeous, blue eyes met mine, her curly red hair unable to be tamed that day, so she had it piled on her head in a messy bun.
If my marriage hadn’t already been over that day, it fucking would’ve been just from the sight of her. For the last two years, I’d only been able to get off to the image of Aaliyah, even if I was inside of another woman. I pictured her on her knees in front of me, my cock filling her mouth. I pictured bending her over my bed, my hand fisting her hair as I railed her from behind.
Christ.
“Would your wife approve of you being turned on by another woman?” Aaliyah suddenly asked, jerking me from my very intimate thoughts. She was walking her fingers up my abs and onto my chest, a sultry look in her eyes.
Fuck, she was killing me.
“I don’t give a fuck about my wife, Red,” I softly growled down at her, my voice barely carrying to her over the pounding music. “So tread carefully.”
She flicked her tongue out over her plump, pink bottom lip, and my restraint snapped.