Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
I loved my job.
I was proud of what we achieved. It was a group effort, and Bleeding Hearts was the hottest burlesque joint in New York. Of course, others had tried to replicate what we had, but they all fell short.
We had the best dancers, prettiest faces, and most importantly, our girls were loyal to us.
“You’re a cruel woman” came from the shadows at the side of the bar.
And although my stomach dipped, I hid it under a knowing smile that said he was right.
There he was, sitting in the dark. His face lit up with every strobing light, and one look at that neatly trimmed stubble had my core clenching. I felt it gliding along my back as the memory of him kissing his way up my spine flickered through my head.
His body filled up the small space. Those wide shoulders stretched the charcoal-gray long-sleeved Henley, which, of course, was pushed up, revealing his tattooed forearms.
No.
Forearm porn? Really?
I internally sulked.
Why was he torturing me?
He couldn’t know what he was doing to me. Could he?
His eyes crinkled in the corners with his smile and those dimples…
Fuck.
He looked like Hades himself.
Dark and tempting, like sex was just a part of who he was. A quality he couldn’t get rid of, even if he tried.
I swallowed down the flurry of emotions rushing through my body, a whirlwind of sadness and excitement. Being in his presence always did strange things to me. It was almost as if I lost myself and became his.
“Just doing my job,” I said with remarkable composure.
When he licked his full bottom lip, looked around in a bored manner, and leaned forward, my gaze went down to the ink on his neck. I’d seen him bare more times than I could count. I could tell you where every scar was, describe the way his ab muscles bulged unsymmetrically. I had kissed every square inch of this physique.
As much as I was his, Viktor Nikulin was mine.
The bruises on his face did nothing to mask his appeal. In fact, they added to his magnetism, pulling the attention of most every woman who came close enough to notice him. And once they noticed him, it was hard to focus on anything else.
“How was your lunch with Frenchie?” The question was asked low, dangerous-like.
Oh no. We are not going there.
Nuh uh.
He knew he ruined it before it even began. I wanted to say something witty and sarcastic, and I tried. “I—” But nothing came out. Panic took over, and my mouth gaped a moment. He peered down at my lips, his brow rising slightly.
Ah, crap.
Flustered, I spun and walked away with my cheeks burning.
My mind did a slow clap.
Well done.
An amused, “Hey, where’s the fire?” came from behind me.
Thankfully, my mouth-to-brain connection sparked to life. I twisted back without slowing my step and uttered a cool, “In your pants.”
Yes. Nice recovery.
Vik made a show of looking me up and down in my teddy. My nipples beaded painfully behind the lace, making me all the more aware of my yearning.
“You know me” was all he said as he leaned back into the shadows, grinning in a way that told me we both won.
My smirk was purely internal, and I know it was pathetic, but the small exchange made my night.
It was funny how a person could go from the highest high to the lowest low in such a short amount of time.
I should have known she would be the cause.
And when she approached him, my eyes remained fastened on them tightly, my back up, locked in a defensive stance.
“Vik, baby,” Lush muttered through her pouting, over-filled lips. Her lashes fluttered prettily. “Can you help me?”
Vik replied, “I can try. Someone bothering you?”
She stood close to him. Way too close. And the moment she laughed, I rolled my eyes. “No, silly.” Her hand touched his shoulder. “I’ve got an itch I can’t reach.” Her voice lowered suggestively. “I thought maybe you’d scratch it.”
Oh dear. I was this close to pounding this bitch into the ground.
So, when Vik’s voice lowered to an equally suggestive tone, and he responded a sly, “Why don’t you show me where this itch is, and maybe we can figure something out?” I gently put the glass I was holding down and began to walk.
Lifting the lip of the bar, I strode out of my workspace, a spark of anger growing inside me.
Lush turned, lifting her tiny skirt to reveal the curve of her butt. She looked back over her shoulder and pouted. “Right there.”
My heart began to race.
Yeah. This was not going to happen.
Vik and Lush?
Over my dead body.
His eyes trailed down to her butt and stayed there a long moment. I kept walking. He reached down, took hold, and pulled. She gasped as though he entered her, and I wanted to vomit. With a sly smile, he handed her the white tag and uttered a nonchalant, “There. Satisfied?”