Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
There’s beautiful. And then there’s this girl.
She blows beautiful out of the water.
She glances my way but looks right through me like I’m invisible. Which is a surprise. I’m not saying I’m anything special, but I easily attract attention from women. Lots of women. But this one looks past me like I’m not standing here feeling my world shift on its axis because she is so damn gorgeous.
I pull on my beer and scan the room, but my focus comes back to her. Cheezy takes her hand as he leads her over to a table and introduces her to some of my club brothers as his date.
How the fuck is she his date?
Cheezy is a flea. One of our delivery drivers I’ve never gotten a good feel for. There is something slimy about him.
How does someone like him walk in with someone like her?
She’s trying to look like she belongs here. But there is something about her that screams out-of-place. She’s not a club girl or an outsider. This woman is in a league all to herself.
Moving on from the table, she and Cheezy make their way toward the bar. As they pass me, Cheezy greets me with a tip of his head which I ignore. But then the woman and I finally make eye contact, and it’s like I’ve been shot in the stomach. And I would know. My insides contract like they’re twisting around on each other, and heat explodes through every nerve and fiber.
My beer bottle pauses at my lips, and all I can do is stare. Her eyes are a penetrating blue. Dark on the outside and a piercing light blue on the inside.
But again, they look right through me. Like she doesn’t even register me being here.
I turn away and nod to Luna who’s on the bar tonight. I don’t need to tell her what I need. She pours the whiskey and slides it across the counter with a wink.
I throw back the shot and signal for another.
“Who is the chick?” she asks, refilling the shot glass.
“What chick?” I ask, throwing back the second shot.
“The one who made your tongue hit the floor when you clocked her,” Luna says with a mischievous grin.
“Didn’t see her.”
“Just as well. She’s probably out of your league.”
“She’s out of Cheezy’s league.”
“So you did see her.”
When I give her a pointed look, she grins and pokes her tongue out before moving down the bar to serve Rogue and Stone.
I move to one of the empty booths along the wall where I sit down and scan the room, involuntarily searching out the woman again. She and Cheezy are standing with Zac and the prospect.
Cheezy reaches for her hand, but she pulls it away and gives him a warning look. And when he places his palm into the small of her back, she steps away from him, clearly uncomfortable with his hands on her.
Interesting.
The enforcer inside me stirs.
He’s always watching. Always anticipating. Always figuring shit out.
She’s not his date. And from the icy expressions she gives him, they don’t even look like friends.
As if she can feel me watching her, she turns to glance over her shoulder and our eyes meet, and for the second time tonight it feels like I’ve been shot.
Bam.
Right in the gut.
Her gaze lingers, and I raise my beer. But she looks away, unaffected.
“Do you mean to tell me that the legendary Lars charm is failing to work?” Mya, one of the club girls, slides into the booth across from me. Dressed in a tiny pair of shorts, a shirt tied above her belly button, and a pair of cowboy boots, she’s gorgeous and one of the best chicks I know.
She grins, and two dimples press into her cheeks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, pulling on my beer.
She rolls her eyes and slaps me with the toweling cloth she’s been using to wipe down the tables. “Why don’t you go over there and talk to her?”
Across the room, someone knocks into Cheezy, and he spills his beer all over the mysterious girl.
“You’re right,” I say, grabbing the cloth out of Mya’s hand and leaving the booth.
When I reach Cheezy and his date, one searing look from me tells Cheezy to back off. He throws his hands up in surrender and backs away, wisely biting his tongue.
“Here.” I hand the girl the cloth so she can wipe the beer off her dress, averting my eyes from her taut nipples pressing against the wet fabric.
She smiles. And it’s like the rest of her. Gorgeous. “Thanks,” she says, as she dabs at the front of her dress. “My date is clumsy.”
“Your date is an idiot.” I speak without thinking, because damn those nipples are a distraction. They’re demanding attention and I’ve got so many ways to give it to them. “So what’s a girl like you doing with a guy like Cheezy anyway?”