Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
My phone chimes on the bar, and as I glance down, I find Louis’ name plastered across the screen with a new text. I let out a sigh, already knowing exactly what it’s going to say.
Louis: Where are you, sweetheart? Time to pay for that shopping spree on my card.
Ugh. He’s got to be kidding. But I should have known better. Hell, I did know better, but I took the card anyway and swiped it like a pissed-off ex-wife with a score to settle. I won’t lie, it was a great afternoon. As for getting down and dirty with Louis, hell no. But that’s the risk you take when you freely give a young woman your card with unlimited spending. I don’t owe him shit.
As I push my phone away, not bothering to respond, movement in my peripheral has my gaze shifting to the entrance of the hotel bar, and I immediately let out a heavy groan before finishing what’s left of my red wine and asking for a refill. Something tells me I’m going to need it.
Out of all the hotel bars in Barcelona, how the hell did he end up in this one?
Raiden Kane steps through the main entrance of the bar, looking like a modern-day Greek god. He’s wearing tan pants and a white button-down that’s rolled to his elbows, showing off the strong corded muscles of his forearms. The buttons are undone halfway down his chest, and goddamn it, I can’t look away from his defined pecs peeking through the gap. A Rolex sits on his wrist, and while I usually don’t froth at a man wearing an expensive watch, there’s something about the way Raiden wears it that has my thighs clenching beneath the bar. At the party, he wore a suit jacket, and I could barely hold myself together, even more so when his arm crept around my waist and pulled me in tight against him.
But it was his scent that threw me over the edge. I swear, men who wear thigh-clenching colognes should be sent straight to the darkest pits of hell. Toying with a woman’s self-control like that isn’t just a criminal offense; it’s psychological warfare.
Raiden spots me immediately, pausing in the doorway as he catches my eye, his brow arching at the same time that a cocky smirk stretches across his lips. And then just when I think I could be off the hook, he strides toward me, the over-confident ego of his flashing in his dark, gold-speckled eyes.
“Fuck me,” I mutter to myself. I’m in trouble. A woman can only resist a man like Raiden Kane for so long.
My wine is refilled just as Raiden steps up beside me at the bar, catching the bartender before he walks away and ordering himself a drink.
“Something you need?” I ask, and a heavy silence settles around us.
“Figure you’d be spending the night with your new sugar daddy.”
I choke on my wine. “I wouldn’t spread my legs for you,” I remind him. “What makes you think I’d ever spread them for a man like Louis Mendez? He’s a pig in an expensive suit, a married pig, at that. No matter how much money I racked up on his black card, I’m not that kind of girl.”
He nods as the bartender arrives with his drink. “Good to know.”
I scoff and roll my eyes, turning in my seat to face him directly. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know. You watched my every move all night. You know damn well that I didn’t leave with him.”
Raiden just smirks, not even attempting to deny it as he lifts his glass to his lips and takes a long drink.
I huff and turn back to the bar, shaking my head. “How does this keep happening to me?”
He puts his glass back on the bar and leans into me, one hand pressed against my left arm, the other coming down beside my right, caging me in between the bar and his warm chest. “How does what keep happening?”
I spin in my chair until we’re face to face, and I stare up at him, his lips barely a breath away from mine. “You,” I tell him. “Every time I think I’ve managed to escape you, there you are. At home. At the party. Here in this bar. I can’t seem to get rid of you.”
He scoffs. “It’s only a problem if that’s what you actually wanted,” he says, pressing into me just an inch until his thick thigh pushes between my knees.
My heart races, need rushing through me like a tsunami, destroying everything in its path. As my chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, I reach for the front of his shirt, desperately needing to pull him in.
His eyes become hooded, looking at me as though he could spend the rest of his life buried inside of me, and just as I lift my chin, silently begging him to close the distance, my phone chimes on the bar beside me.