Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
When I go back upstairs, a drink in either hand, I say, “Alright, Miss Thing. Ready to make your debut?”
The door swings slowly open and I nearly drop the drinks. Jenna is always gorgeous, but tonight, she’s gone to new lengths. I imagine that this is the persona Jenna adopts when she’s onstage, and it’s intoxicating. Her platinum and pink hair is curled, and her makeup features a bold red lip and dark eyes. Standing with her hands on her hips, she wears a leather vest with just a red bra underneath, impossibly tiny denim shorts, and red cowboy boots. She is the quintessential rock star and I’m in awe.
Seeing me gaping like a fish, she flashes me a dazzling grin. “What do you think?” she asks, performing a twirl that gives me a peek at her perfect ass in those short shorts.
“I think,” I growl, setting the drinks on the dresser, “that we’re not leaving this bedroom tonight, after all.”
I seize Jenna and kiss her, red lipstick be damned. She kisses me back, melting in my arms, but then pulls away, giggling. “I didn’t go to all this work to stay in,” she informs me, picking up her drink. “Now get dressed and let’s get out of here!”
Ten minutes and several kisses later, I’m dressed in dark jeans and a black button-down, which is the closest to casual that I get. Jenna begs me to wear a cowboy hat that she pulls from behind her back, but I kiss her enough that she drops the subject.
It’s a gorgeous late-summer evening; the first stars are winking in the dusk. I open the passenger side door for Jenna, and she oohs and aahs at this special treatment. Then, we’re off to downtown Snow Valley, chatting about our favorite country singers as we do. (Dolly Parton is a champion to us both.)
When we enter the bar, Jenna immediately goes to get us drinks while I find us a table. The lights are dim and hazy, and the floor is sticky with spilled beer. Still, I knew that it was the kind of place that Jenna would love.
“This is great!” she yells over the music, confirming my suspicions as we sit down. She slides a whiskey over to me after taking a sip herself. Her drink of choice, as always, is a gin and tonic. Her scarlet lips curve into a sultry grin over the rim of her glass. I reach out and brush my hand over her arm, always eager to be touching her.
“Have you ever line danced before?” I ask. She shakes her head. Grabbing my drink in one hand, I offer my other hand to her. “Then let’s get going, little lady.”
“Is that your attempt at a southern drawl?” she laughs.
I shrug and grin. “I think it could be worse.”
A small gaggle of people are on the dance floor, singing along to an Alan Jackson song as they line dance. I am absolutely certain I’ll make a fool out of myself, and have resigned myself to my fate. Jenna, on the other hand, picks it up almost immediately. “Come on, Matt!” she encourages, squeezing my hand tightly and tugging me onto the dance floor.
I stumble through several steps as Jenna dances expertly. I get lost watching her luscious hips sway, her breasts in their tiny bra jiggling as she hops. She catches me staring and winks, then nudges me in the side. “A little less looking, a little more dancing,” she admonishes me. I do my best, which isn’t great.
Eventually, after Jenna has made friends with everyone around us, the music shifts to a popular modern club song. Jenna turns so that her back is to my front, and, grinning at me over her shoulder, grinds against me seductively. I feel a twitch in my pants as I place my hands on her hips, slowly moving down to caress the soft skin of her thighs below her short shorts. God, she turns me on so effortlessly. I’ve never been with a woman who oozes sensuality and confidence the way she does.
“Having fun?” I murmur in her ear before kissing down her neck.
“Mmm,” she purrs. “Lots of fun.”
“There’s something I forgot to tell you about this place,” I whisper.
She turns around, draping her arms around my neck, her head tilted. “What?”
Just then, a tall man in a cowboy hat strides onto the small stage in the front of the room. “Our weekly karaoke contest is about to begin!” he announces to scattered applause and whoops. Jenna’s blue eyes widen and she looks at me suspiciously. I shrug innocently.
“Still trying to get me to sing for you, huh?” she asks with a raised brow.
“Maybe,” I confess. “C’mon. You’re a star. Karaoke should be no big deal for you.”
Jenna looks toward the stage, her expression wistful. “I do love karaoke…” she says. When she looks back at me, she’s grinning widely. “I’m going to sing a song. Just for you.”