Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I simply want her again, and I want her more than my common sense should allow.
Music from a jukebox blares, forcing the patrons to scream to converse, and the air is hazy with smoke. I grimace as I wind my way through a light crowd of early drinkers—it’s only about nine—and make my way up to the bar.
Hannah doesn’t see me. Once she serves the draft beer to a customer, she turns and asks the next person what they’re drinking. There’s another female bartender working at the other end, slinging drinks as fast as Hannah.
It’s busy and decidedly not glorious work. Hannah is tipped a pittance for her efforts, but I can tell she tries to make it up in serving volume, efficiently moving from customer to customer.
When she finally glances my way, there’s a curt smile on her face that she has in place for everyone. Her mouth parts to ask what I’m drinking before she fully gawks at me in shock.
“Hello, Hannah,” I say in a voice loud enough to rise above the din as I tap my finger against the scarred wooden bar top.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, equally as loud as she positions herself directly across the bar from me.
I jerk my head toward the door. “Can you take a break?”
Hannah stares at me a moment, clearly undecided. Here she stands in a dirty, smoke filled bar, looking amazing in a tight tank top with tattered daisy duke shorts, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to a woman before.
She holds a finger up to me to say she needs a moment, then walks to the other end of the bar. Her head inclines toward the other bartenders. They exchange words, then Hannah is headed my way. Pushing away from the bar, I walk to the end to meet her at the pass-through. After she exits, I escort her to the door that leads out, my hand on her lower back. It’s completely reminiscent of the way I escorted her through the Wicked Horse five days ago.
When I had what was the absolute best sex of my life.
Which sort of blows my mind and freaks me out at the same time. It was nothing over the top. Totally vanilla—outside of the fact we were in a sex club—but Jesus… how many women have I fucked missionary style in my life?
Too many to remember… and so many occasions that were forgettable.
But Hannah has opened something inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. While it scares the fuck out of me, it’s too intriguing for me to ignore it.
I push the door open. My chest brushing against Hannah’s shoulder shoots a ripple of pleasurable awareness through me. She continues, and I wonder if she’s as affected by that touch as I am.
I follow her to the corner of the building, far enough away from the door that we can have some privacy from customers going in and out.
She turns, faces me, and pushes her hands down into the pockets of her jean shorts. Tilting her head quizzically, she asks, “What’s up?”
She doesn’t say, God, I missed you.
Will you take me back to the Wicked Horse?
Thank you for the best sex of my life, Asher.
Fuck, I need to quit thinking those thoughts. I absolutely do not want Hannah beholden to me in any way, and that includes having an insatiable need for sex from me. Because I’m afraid I’d be too weak to resist that temptation.
Okay, that’s a lie. I would not say no to that, which is proven by the fact I’m standing here in front of her.
While I’d rather just kiss the fuck out of her, possibly pull her to the side of the building and fuck her up against the wall because I’m insanely turned on being in her presence right now, I decide to play it cool. “I want another night with you.”
Just as I expected might happen, her cheeks glow pink with embarrassment, which turns me on even more. Her expression turns bewildered. “Why?”
“Because I enjoyed fucking you, Hannah,” I reply matter-of-factly. This is, after all, really a business deal. “And I think you enjoyed it, too. So I’d like you to be my companion—”
“Your companion?” she exclaims with a mirthless laugh. “What does that even mean?”
“I want you to be available to accompany me to the Wicked Horse on certain nights of my choosing,” I tell her.
Hannah just stares at me, her eyes turning blank for a moment before she bursts into laughter. “Your sex companion? Tell me you’re joking.”
I lean into her and murmur, “I never joke about sex. And I’d pay you well to accompany me there.”
She blinks, and there’s an iciness in her tone that wasn’t there before. “You want me to be your full-time whore?”