Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I figured Liam would be doing the same thing, but every time I glanced his way, his eyes were on me. The intensity of his gaze made my entire body feel warm and restless. My breath hitched as memories of our night together flashed in my mind, of how it felt to be the object of his focused desire.
This has to stop.
We’d just agreed to a truce and set boundaries. To be friends. To keep things uncomplicated between us and professional at work. I knew if I allowed myself to be swayed by that heated stare, I would break every rule I’d made for myself when it came to this man.
I needed a distraction. Something, anything, that didn’t involve imagining what he’d look like pressed against me in the shadows of this club.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice said from behind me.
Turning in my chair, I found a man with shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes looking at me with a smile on his lips. “Would you like to dance?”
Direct and good-looking. I liked both of those points. And he wasn’t a complicated coworker that was driving me crazy.
“Yes,” I said without pausing to even think about it.
I stood, allowing Blue Eyes to take my hand and lead me to the dance floor. I caught Liam’s gaze as we passed by him, and I could have sworn I saw a surprising spark of jealousy flash in his copper-colored eyes.
Embrace the distraction, I reminded myself.
The DJ was playing a Bon Jovi song that half the dance floor was singing along to, and I joined them, shaking my hips and raising my arms in the air. I didn’t hold myself back, singing and dancing and sending flirtatious smiles at the man that led me out here. He stayed close but mostly kept his hands to himself, aside from the occasional skimming of his fingers along my back or arms. He was respectful and didn’t cross any lines so I didn’t mind his subtle touch.
I had fun through the first two songs, but then Blue Eyes excused himself and left the dance floor. I guessed he wasn’t that into me, but I was fine with that. I was still hung up on the last guy I met in a bar, and I didn’t need to get attached to someone else. No pressure fun was better anyway.
I stayed on the dance floor, hoping that Whitney might join me, and I was only halfway through the next song when another man stepped up to me.
Immediately, he took the opportunity to get handsy. His palms landed on my hips, and he pulled me back until my ass was pressed against his groin. He started to grind into me, and I quickly stepped away. Spinning around, I saw a man with black hair, a smarmy smile on his face, and his eyes glassy from too much alcohol.
“Hands off,” I shouted loud enough to be heard over the music.
His grin widened, but he lifted his hand like he was being cooperative, which lasted all of about thirty seconds before his hands were back on my hips, fingers digging in uncomfortably hard.
I stiffened immediately and shoved his hands away. This time, I glared as I sidestepped several feet away and started dancing again, determined not to let one creep ruin my night. But the man was persistent, and clearly intoxicated. This time, he moved in front of me and reached around to grab my ass with both hands.
I gasped in outrage, and I was about to push against his chest to make him back off, but I didn’t get the chance. He was ripped away from me so fast I staggered a step back.
My jaw dropped as Liam shoved the man to the ground, his face lined with rage. His eyes quickly swept over me, sharp and focused, not ogling like earlier but instead likely checking for injuries. Protective in a way that hit me straight in the chest.
Once he seemed satisfied that I was okay, he turned back toward the jerk, who was scrambling to his feet. Liam’s jaw tensed, his fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes blazing with fury. A circle had formed around us, people eagerly watching, waiting to see what unfolded. Phones were already out, ready to record a fight.
My stomach twisted. I didn’t want a scene. I didn’t want Liam arrested or the star of some viral video of a club brawl that would remain on the internet long after this night was over.
Liam stepped toward the other man, and I grabbed his arm. “Liam, I’m fine,” I said, hoping to diffuse the situation.
“Fucker needs to learn to keep his hands to himself,” he growled furiously.
The man stood upright again, and while a bit unsteady on his feet, he looked pissed. Thankfully, he remained in place, not brave enough to take a step forward. Not when Liam was several inches taller and probably had at least thirty pounds of muscle on him.