Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Where did he find her? What does she have that’s so special?”
“Haven’t asked, but if you don’t want to say sayonara to being a good friend of mine, you’d better be nice to Ian’s girl,” Hilton tells her.
“Who says she’s his official girl?”
“I don’t know the specifics, but if you ask me, and I’m the birthday boy, she’s his girl tonight and by the way he keeps checking out where she’s sitting, she’ll be his girl tomorrow night, too. In fact, Loki and I have this little bet on how long it’ll last. We don’t remember Ford being this hooked on anyone for a long time,” Hilton says.
I stand and head to the restroom, where I stare at myself in the mirror. Okay, breathe. You knew this would happen. Not everybody is going to be happy. It doesn’t matter as long as you and Ian are okay. God, but I’d rather stick myself with a fork than endure those bitchy stares and complaints.
“He’s in the corner, but Cindy said he came in with someone,” a waitress entering the restroom tells another as she enters a stall.
“What? Who?” the voice in the stall asks.
Ducking my head after washing my hands, I head back outside and find a guy with curly brown hair at our table, sitting with a beautiful cougar far older than him. She is openly staring at Ian’s ass. Ian is standing near the table as if waiting for me. He smiles as I approach and lets me slide inside the booth, and only then does he slide back in next to me.
Loud music pulses through the exotic room. Ian’s familiar scent teases my nostrils and I relax a bit. I take a sip of my drink as we lean back, the loud music making it hard to talk. He’s loyal to his friends, I can tell, because they look at him fondly, and that’s why he’s here, but he’s got his hand on my thigh, caressing up and down, slowly, and I think that, just like me, he would rather be alone. Or working.
He spreads his arm out on the couch behind me and draws me a little closer. He breathes heavily over the top of my head and lowers his mouth to my ear. “You’re the hottest thing here, so stop scowling.”
I laugh. “I don’t know anyone. I’m trying to determine if they’re friend or foe.”
“My friends are your friends. My foes, your foes.” He winks, and I laugh as he starts pointing randomly. “Friend. Foe. Friend. Foe.”
Exhaling as I realize he wants me to know that I’m not in this alone, I scoot closer to him and breathe in his shirt, and I feel the others in the group watch us suspiciously.
Our eyes meet in the dim light—through the music, the crowd, the drinks—and I’m transported to every evening he’s looked at me like this before. In his townhouse. At his office. Even in room 1103. But there’s an edge to his stare that wasn’t there before. An underlying hunger.
In the dark his features are classically perfect. His black button-down shirt is tailored for him. He looks incredible, smells incredible; he’s flawless in this room. I keep stealing looks at him, and I inhale a sharp breath when he kisses the top of my head and calls a waiter to our table, ordering more drinks. Women flock to this table. There are a thousand more beautiful women in this room, but in this moment I feel like I’m the only one.
Hilton stands and makes a speech, thanking everyone for being here on his birthday.
“Ian! This is for you, for coming to the party!” The girls on Hilton’s side of the table wiggle their hands under their tops and take off their bras and toss them in the air, and my mouth almost pops open in surprise, but thank God I contain myself. Sounds and jeers emanate from all over the room.
His lips curl in mild amusement but his hand moves on my thigh as if telling me I’m the one, and his eyes lower to rest on me and no one else. Yet I’m entranced as the girls begin to give a little show, dancing together, shimmying their rears.
I look at them moving, seducing, the look of rapture on the guys’ faces while Ian turns to look at me almost with the same rapture. I feel his inky eyes on my profile and I want to drive him crazy like that. “I can make them stop,” he tells me, quiet but a tad amused.
“No. I’m wishing I could dance like that for you right now.”
The amusement fades from his eyes. He shifts. He’s so big and his presence so overpowering, he’s an expert at helping me become invisible when he shields me with his shoulders. “You don’t need to dance like that for me here. Just blush for me the way you do,” he says, smiling at me.