Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Why would anyone want to walk in those uncomfortable spike heels? The blond would probably be far steadier on her feet, even in her drunken state, if she were barefoot.
I have the urge to slide those heels off her dainty feet, rub the arches until she moans, and never give her another pair of shoes. I’d like to see the rest of her body too. Not that she has done a great job of hiding her assets. She wears slinky dresses, which accentuate her curves.
Even though I find the clothing females on Earth wear to be odd and unnecessary, there’s no denying the blond is a gorgeous female. The dress she’s wearing tonight is silver, shimmery, and body hugging.
She sways again, her shoulder bumping into the wall where she’s almost at the row of restrooms. She hesitates, seemingly using the wall to support her. The drink she was holding a few minutes ago is gone.
Suddenly, she lurches forward and rushes toward the restrooms, yanking one of the doors open and nearly launching into the room.
I jump to my feet. I’ve seen this behavior before. She’s going to vomit. It happens nearly every night at Club Zoom. Females make poor choices, drink too much, and heave in the bathroom.
Khantok tips his head back. “You sure you want to go down there?” He can read my body language. He can also probably feel my anxiety.
I brace my hands on the counter in front of me, leaning in close. “Fuck.” The expletive rushes out of me, harsh and final.
Khantok draws in a slow breath. It’s huge of him not to laugh at me.
Two seconds tick by before I turn my head to him.
He lifts a brow. “See you back on Eleadia?”
I nod and exhale before shoving off the counter and hurrying from the room.
She’s mine. She’s probably going to be high-maintenance and the biggest challenge of my existence, but she’s mine.
Chapter Two
Kendra
The walls are spinning as I grip the sides of the toilet and lean over. I hardly care that my knees have hit the tile floor forcefully. I can’t feel the pain. I will tomorrow. First, I have to live through today.
At least I made it to the bathroom. I’m thankful each restroom is solo. No one else is in here to witness the results of my stupidity.
Bile rises in my throat. I can’t stop it. Before I can take my next breath my stomach revolts, and I heave into the toilet. Violently. Three times.
My face is sweating, and I’m shaking. I can hardly hold on to the edges of the toilet seat. If my fingers slip, I’m going to face plant onto the seat. I might even end up with my forehead in the nasty red water.
I reach blindly with my left hand to find the lever and flush. The smell is horrible, and I know I’m not done vomiting.
Deep breaths.
My life is a trainwreck. Why did I think drinking far too much alcohol would fix anything? It won’t. It’s only going to make me feel miserable and wish I’d died tomorrow morning. It won’t make my problems go away.
The only thing that might have made my fucked-up situation better would have been if one of these giant sexy Eleadian men had claimed me in the past month.
I realize it had been a longshot. Hundreds of women come here every night either for a glimpse of an Eleadian male or in hopes they will be chosen. It’s rare. There are only at most ten males living in the above floors at any given time. It’s not as if they choose women every night.
The odds had been very bad, but I’d had to try. Anything.
It seems as if I’m safe from puking for a moment, so I groan as I lean back, not strong enough to stand. I need a moment. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I sit on my nearly bare ass on the gross bathroom floor.
When I glance down, I’m relieved to see that, in reality, this is the cleanest bathroom I’ve ever been in. The floor actually feels good against my bare ass and thighs. Cool.
Why did I wear a thong? Why did I wear this sexy dress that’s so short it isn’t capable of covering my ass? I know why. Hope. They say it springs eternal. Ha.
It’s too late now. I’m out of time. If I were Cinderella and this were a fairy tale, it’s after midnight, and my carriage has left me behind. Even if there had been the smallest chance on Earth that a man would have claimed me tonight, I’ve blown it. I’m gross now. I probably smell like vomit.
Taking a deep breath, I realize I do indeed smell bad. Irrationally bad. I reach for my hair with trembling fingers and groan again. I must have vomited on it. “Fuck.” Tears spring in the corners of my eyes. My fucked-up life is so very over.