Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Would you like me to start a tab?” The bartender brings me out of my thoughts by dropping a napkin and my drink in front of me on the bar.
“No, thanks.” I shake my head and pass her the fifty-dollar bill I got out earlier to cover my first drink.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, thank you.” I smile, and she smiles back while smoothly taking the fifty from me. Picking up my fresh drink, I take a sip and then look toward the door when cool evening air rushes inside. Disappointment hits me when I don’t see my date—but that feeling is quickly washed away when my eyes lock on the man coming through the door, and my body tingles from head to toe.
The guy is handsome. No, not handsome. That word doesn’t do him justice. He’s gorgeous. But not model gorgeous. He’s too rough-looking for that. He looks like he’s recently spent time in the sun; his dark hair is slightly wavy and curls around his ears and neck, accentuating his strong jaw and full lips. I can’t tell the exact color of his eyes from where I’m sitting, but even from a distance they seem bright because of the dark lashes surrounding them. Pulling my eyes down from his face, I take in the expanse of his wide shoulders covered in a plaid shirt and leather jacket and a trim waist encased in a pair of jeans that mold to his thick legs. Drawing my gaze back up to his, I find him studying me with heat in his eyes. I shift in my chair, wondering what it would be like to run my fingers through his hair while he kissed me. Blinking at that forward thought, I shake my head and pull my eyes from his. I look down at my drink before picking it up and downing it in one shot. Hopping off my bar stool, I hold on to the edge of the bar because I’m wobbling in the heels that Libby insisted I borrow. Heels that almost killed me twice on the way to the bar because I can barely walk in them.
Getting the bartender’s attention, I point toward the hall that leads to the restrooms at the back of the bar to let her know I’m not taking off. She nods. Making my way through the crowd, I head down a long hallway and get into line behind two blondes who smile at me before resuming their conversation. “So did you finally try the lipstick I sent you?” one of them asks as I pull out my cell phone again to see if I have any missed calls or messages, which I don’t.
Stupid men.
“I forgot to tell you!” The other laughs. “I tested it out, and you were right! It didn’t come off even after the forty-minute blow job I gave Charles.”
Forty-minute blow job? I rub my own jaw just thinking about it.
“I told you it’s awesome stuff,” the friend replies as the door to the restroom opens and a woman comes out.
“You were right!” the other agrees. Then they both disappear behind the closed door.
Knowing Libby loves makeup, I smile while sending her a text.
I just overheard two women talking about lipstick that doesn’t come off when you’re giving head. I think you should check it out.
Not even two seconds later, my phone buzzes.
Ummm . . . thank you . . . I think?
It was actually a forty-minute blow job, I clarify.
A forty-minute blow job is way more impressive than lipstick that doesn’t come off, she replies.
I giggle, dropping my cell phone back into my bag just as the door opens and the women come out, laughing.
After finishing up in the bathroom, I start back to the front of the bar.
I stop suddenly—when I feel a hand hit my ass hard enough to sting.
“What the hell?” I start to spin around, but my heels wobble once more. Causing me to stumble right into a warm chest that smells like leather and mint.
“Are you all right?” Large hands capture my waist, and I blink up at my savior. Who also happens to be the guy I noticed earlier. One of his arms wraps around me, and he pulls me flush against his solid chest, making every inch of me come to life. “You okay?”
“What?” I ask, in shock.
He drags me up his body, then drops his face closer to mine.
“You okay?” I see his mouth move, but it takes a few seconds to register that he asked if I was okay. All I can seem to focus on is the way it feels to be pressed against him.
“I . . .” I shake my head to clear away the lust that is suddenly overwhelming me. “Yes . . . sorry. Thank you.”
“Good.” Smiling, he lets me go.