Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“I’ve never seen her like this before,” Bella said, as she wrapped her arms around Vicki’s waist in an attempt to halt her crazy twirling. “No, Vic, stop it. Come on.”
“But I’m daaaancing…” She matched action to words, wrapping her arms around Bella’s waist and swaying with her.
“She’s going to be so embarrassed in the morning,” Bella moaned.
Fuck this.
Ty waded in and separated the two women.
“Hey,” he said, banding his hands around Vicki’s arms and using his firmest voice. She was laughing and swaying and not paying the slightest bit of attention to Ty.
“Miss Hollingsworth. Victoria!”
The last—barked in a raised voice—caught her attention, and she made an effort to peer blearily at him.
“Why are you shouting?”
“Can you walk?” He released her arms and stepped back to see if she could stand by herself.
“’Course I can…look. Oops!” More snickers as her legs gave out, and Ty caught her again.
She stared at her legs in bemusement. “Bells, did you sh-see that? My legs are pizghet…. Shupahge... Noodles.”
“Christ,” Ty muttered. “I’ll have to carry you.”
“Just like the bodyguard in that old movie,” she whispered, sounding awed. She held her arms out to him and, while Ty didn’t like that dreamy look on her face, he was happy that at least she seemed compliant.
“Sure,” he said, humoring her, not having a clue what the hell she was talking about. “Just like that.”
He plucked her glasses from her face, handed them to Bella, and unceremoniously hoisted Vicki over his shoulders in a fireman’s lift. She squawked in shock.
He clamped one of her wrists in his hand—while her other arm dangled uselessly down his back. He weaved his arm through her legs while trying his best—in an attempt to preserve her modesty—to flatten her microscopic sequined skirt against her thigh, with his other hand. He tried to ignore just how much of her warm, silky skin he could feel beneath his palm, but it was difficult when she kept moving.
“You’re doing it wrong, you oaf!” Her muffled words only succeeded in irritating him even more. And—as punishment for the insult—he deliberately jostled her. She squeaked in surprise and shut up, her upside-down head dropping onto his shoulder.
She giggled unexpectedly and the lighthearted sound shocked the hell out of him. He had been expecting protests, even death threats. Certainly not laughter.
“Bells,” she called between sniggers. “Look at me, I’m flying!”
Her arm at his back lifted and he could only assume she was holding it out to imitate an airplane wing.
His hold on her became precarious, and she slid an inch or so down his shoulder. Unfortunately, because of the shift in her position, he had to readjust his grip. His hand slipped under the skirt for a nanosecond, and he found himself cupping a lace-covered ass cheek.
“Hey, wash the hanz, mishta!” his drunken charge slurred sternly. And he hastily moved his hand back to safer territory. But the imprint of her round, pert butt cheek was burned into his skin, and he stifled a groan, regretting that he now had that sensory memory embedded in his brain.
“Stop wriggling, damn it,” he commanded her through gritted teeth and was gratified when her “airplane wing” arm fluttered against his back again.
At five foot one, and barely a hundred pounds, she was a lightweight. He bench-pressed more than twice her body weight during his daily workouts. No, her weight wasn’t the issue, but her heat, the feel of her slight breasts pushed against his left shoulder…those were all distractions he did not need.
“You okay to walk back to the car?” he asked Bella, who looked horrified and amused at the same time. The woman was holding Vicki’s sparkly purse, as well as her four-inch stilettos.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go.”
He set a brisk pace and was happy when Bella managed to keep up with him. They didn’t speak at all, and even Vicki had gone silent.
Too damned silent.
He stopped walking and looked at Bella.
“Has she passed out?”
Bella peered at the woman draped over Ty’s shoulders like a glittery shawl and nodded. “I think so.”
Fuck. He wondered if he should take her to the ER…or the A&E as they called it there. She was a tiny thing, and he was concerned she could have alcohol poisoning. She may need a banana bag IV.
He lifted and dropped his shoulders abruptly, hoping to prompt a reaction from her.
“Staaahp,” she moaned and worked her wrist free from his hold, to slap the flat of her palm against his abdomen. The hand froze for a second, before skimming over his torso, slowly tracing the ridges it found there. He sucked in a shocked breath at the unexpectedly sensual touch, and she made an appreciative noise that was a cross between a moan and a hum. “Hmm, nice…”
The small hand slid back down, and her fingers crept beneath the overlap of his shirt and managed to worm their way to naked flesh. Ty grunted, shocked, when she found the whorl of hair around his belly button, and happily traced the path back between his abs. Thankfully, the gap between the buttons was too small for her to explore further, and she made a frustrated noise before trying to work the button out of its hole.