Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“You know, dance-ing?” She says it slowly, like I’m too stupid to understand the word.
“You are not twerking. You are not fucking Max or any other Moose,” I growl, just loud enough for her to hear. A half beat later, I tack on, “Or hell, any other asshole in here tonight.”
I have no right to tell her what she can and can’t do, but the declaration comes out automatically. And if I’d stuck to only saying Moose, I could probably play it off as a team thing. But I didn’t, and that’s gonna cause problems.
Her smile vanishes instantly, her eyes flaring wide with anger as her brows jump up her forehead. She’s pissed. No, she’s furious, and I can almost sense the scathing words forming in her mind and rushing to her sharp tongue.
On one hand, I can’t wait to hear them. But honestly, I’m not sure I can take her on in my current no-blood-in-my-brain state. Quickly, I try to soften the blow so she doesn’t destroy me. “You’re too good for anyone here, and you know it.”
There. That should do it.
She flips her hair over her shoulder, not buying it in the least. “Obviously. I know my worth. But sometimes, I go on flash sale. Out of boredom mostly. Or when my vibrator needs a good charge.” She leans to the side to wink at Max. “No offense.”
Behind me, he answers, “None taken, ma’am.” I can hear the grin in his voice, and I can imagine him tipping an invisible hat as if he’s a gentleman.
“Not helping,” I toss over my shoulder to Max, keeping my eyes locked on Joy. And definitely not imagining her with her legs spread wide, pussy dripping, and a toy disappearing inside her. I bet she’s a screamer when she comes. She’s mouthy all the time, so she probably only gets louder when she releases the tight hold she keeps on herself. My balls tighten painfully, which pisses me off. She pisses me off.
“He could be helping if you’d get out of the way.” Not waiting for me to move, she does it herself, forcing me to turn to follow her. Now, Joy, Max, and I are our own circle of three, but the others are close around us, watching the spectacle we’re making like it’s a live-action reality show.
When I don’t respond, she leans in closer to peer into my eyes like they might contain the secrets of the universe. Suddenly, and loud enough for everyone to hear, she says, “Oh shit. Are you jealous? I didn’t know you and Max were a thing. My bad.” She swings a pink-manicured finger from me to Max, and back again. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of true love.”
Like the laidback jokester that he is, Max throws a big smile on his face and clenches his hands beneath his chin, nearly shooting hearts out of his stupid green eyes. “Dalton, I didn’t know you had feelings for me! I wuv you too. C’mere, ya big sex machine. I’ll put my stick in your five-hole no problem!”
People around us are looking on in shock at the bold, and again, loud declaration. I don’t give a shit what they think or what gossip Joy might be instigating, especially since it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Max is kidding. What I care about is that Joy’s fucking with me.
“Seriously? Everybody knows who I fuck almost as soon as I come. Women take out billboards about that shit. But Max is one of the boys. Don’t screw around with the team, Joy,” I snarl. Wrapping my hand around the back of Max’s neck, I grip him tight to guide him away.
Once we’re free of the clear and present danger, a.k.a. Joy Barlowe, I release Max, who laughs and holds a hand up for a high five. “I knew you were faking all that ‘grumpy asshole’ shit. Moose forever, man!”
People hear the last part and a chorus of “Moooose!” rings out through the bar.
There’s one particular voice in the crowd I hear over all the others, though, and it irritates the fuck out of me. Because it’s the only one that sounds like it’s taunting me specifically the whole time.
Chapter 5
Joy
“What. Was. That?” Hope demands two seconds after grabbing my hand, yanking me off the dance floor, and dragging me to the ladies’ room, where she shoos out a woman trying to fluff her hair and tits.
Totally low key, definitely not making a scene, like, at all.
I’m at a loss for words so I shrug, trying to play it off. Hope plants her hands on my shoulders and shakes me. “Joy! That man just . . . I mean, he . . . What was that?” she repeats, sounding like she witnessed little green men jumping out of a cake, not a man being a jerk, which is basically an everyday occurrence in my experience.