Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Not a minute later, I heard it.
No Diggity.
When I looked again, she was standing in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, head tipped to the side, challenge in her eyes.
And, well, she wasn't the only one who had a hard time backing down from one.
Besides, was there really any way to back down from a situation that might end up with her, as Meryl had suggested, grinding on me.
I could never claim to be much of a dancer, but when a beautiful woman wanted you to dance with her, you fucking danced. Case closed.
I tipped back the rest of the drink - my first and only - and made my way over toward her.
She didn't come to me.
Hardass to the core, she stood there with her chin raised, waiting for me to come to her.
So, of course, I did, moving in until my front brushed hers, feeling her breasts - free of a bra - slide across my chest. My arm moved around her lower back, pulling her hips flush against mine, and I didn't imagine it when her breath whooshed out of her on a slight gasp.
One of her arms raised, the hand hovering for a second before sliding over my chest then around my neck.
"This doesn't mean what you think it means."
"And what do you think I think it means?" I asked, reaching out with my free hand to swipe her hair behind her ear.
"You think I want to fuck you," she said, always choosing blunt over coy, something a man had to appreciate.
"I know you want to fuck me," I told her, ducking my head down slightly, keeping my voice low even though the music was high enough to guarantee the sound wouldn't travel. "But this is just a dance. I get that."
"I never said I wanted to fuck you."
"Love," I started, turning her slightly so that no one at the bar would see when my hand slid up, brushing the side of her breast. "All I have to do is this," I told her as my fingers slipped out, very nearly brushing her nipple, "and you shiver."
As if on cue, she did.
And this time, with her facing me, I got to watch the way her eyes went heavy-lidded, how her lips parted slightly.
Seeming to notice how my focus went to her mouth, she pressed in even closer, going up on her toes a bit, her mouth getting closer to mine.
I wanted it too.
That was the worst part.
I fucking wanted it.
But she was drunk.
And I had rules.
I shook my head as she got closer, an action that seemed to have the same effect as if I doused her in ice water, making her shock back so hard that if I weren't holding her so close, she would have broken all contact.
There was offense in her eyes, along with anger and, if I wasn't mistaken, a tiny sliver of hurt.
"When I kiss you, Lenny, I want you to remember it. And not regret it. It can't be like this."
"Fine," she hissed, jerking back harder, digging her nails into the wrist of the arm that was still around her, making me let her go. "Your loss."
With that, she turned on her heel, walking away, grabbing her bottle of tequila, and moving over to the far end of the bar to strike up a conversation with a quiet man who had been nursing a ginger ale all night.
It would seem weird if I hadn't come across men like him before. The clean ones. The ones that broke the addiction, but couldn't shake the habit.
I spent the next few hours being asked a shitton of questions, mostly by Meryl who was clearly wearing his business cap this evening.
It wasn't until she stood up and declared while slamming the empty bottle of tequila down on the counter, "Okay. That's it. I'll see most of you tomorrow."
I wondered if I was included in that or not, given the course of the night.
But then my attention was on the way she wasn't walking straight.
"She's not driving, is she?" I asked Meryl as I watched her back.
"Nah. She's too smart for that. She's walking."
"In this neighborhood? At night?" I asked, my voice clearly taking on an angry tone. There was clueless and then there was careless. Meryl was being the latter of the two.
"Think she's any safer with one of these fucks escorting her?" he asked, waving to all his patrons.
"No," I conceded. "But she would be with you."
"But here I am with a business to run. And she nearly killed me the last time I offered to get her a cab."
I could hear the front door open and close again. Before I knew it, I was on my feet, slamming a fifty on the bar as a tip on my free drink, then following her out.