Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
She was in another of those damn rompers that had no right to be as sexy as it was.
This one was in a sage green with shorts and an enticingly deep V between her breasts.
My cock twitched, remembering my face buried in exactly that spot, breathing her in, feeling her shake with need beneath me, hearing her beg me to taste her.
As if hearing my thoughts, her head turned, and those blue eyes pinned me.
There was fucking impact in the look.
I went back a half a step.
She was every bit as gorgeous as I remembered.
Her cheeks were flushed red from the half-empty margarita in her hand.
“Perish!” Layna greeted me, her smile suspiciously wide.
Did she know?
Had Gracie told her?
My spine tensed.
“Come say hi!” she said, sounding drunker than she should already. But Croft was right. The girls knew how to party when they wanted to. She was probably on her third marg. And that tequila, that shit just hit differently.
“Hi,” I said, taking two steps forward.
But that wasn’t good enough.
“To our faces, dummy,” Layna demanded.
I sucked in a deep breath that I planned to hold so I didn’t have to breathe in Gracie as I moved closer.
“Happy?” I asked.
“Delighted,” Layna said. “Say hi, Gracie.”
“Hi,” she said, her voice small.
“Can I say hi too?” Kit, dressed in her signature goth style with her lilac hair pulled into two space buns, asked.
“Hey, Kit.”
“So, we are planning on going dancing,” Layna went on. “Do you want to come?”
“I’m on guard shift tonight.”
Layna pouted.
“Well, maybe we can dance here to start!” she declared, jumping off the bar. Her margarita sloshed on her hand, and she lifted it to lick it off before making her way to the stereo to change the music.
“Car fixed?” I asked, painfully aware of Kit’s gaze sliding between me, Layna, and Gracie, and trying to keep it casual.
“Yeah, Uncle Seth got it fixed and back at my apartment before I even woke up.”
I nodded at that.
I wasn’t typically one for small talk. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered me before. But I suddenly wished I could think of something, anything to say.
Especially when Gracie lifted the margarita glass to her lips and took a sip, temporarily staining her lips red. And, fuck, I wanted to move closer and lick the taste off.
“Yes!” a cheer went up through the girls. Who, despite having wildly different personalities and, I would assume, tastes in music, all seemed jazzed about whatever pop song was currently blasting through the speakers.
Layna rushed forward to drag Gracie down from the bar, making her teeter on her heels.
My hand itched to reach out to steady her, but I forced myself to ball them into fists instead.
“Here, you take this,” Layna demanded, plucking the drink from Gracie’s hand to shove it at me.
I took it and leaned back against the bar, sipping the last of the contents, knowing intimately what Gracie’s lips would taste like right then.
Then I was tortured with the image of the girls dancing.
In particular, Gracie dancing.
Her hips swaying, her ass wiggling around. And, yeah, it seemed like Gracie simply never wore a goddamn bra. Because there was no way she had one on with the way her tits were bouncing under the thin material of her romper.
I forced my gaze away, studying my damn shoes, the paint on the walls, a ball of dust that missed the vacuum earlier.
Anything but her.
I couldn’t say if I was more relieved or disappointed when the girls finally wanted to break free of the walls and hit the bar.
“Yo,” I said, stopping Cain as he started to move past me.
“Yeah?”
“You keep a close eye on them,” I demanded, knowing my tone was way too damn serious, but unable to help it.
The shooting.
Chased by drunk guys.
Gracie had been through enough already.
“I got it,” Cain said, his tone so serious that I knew he would see it as his job to stay sober and act as private security.
Unfair of me, maybe.
But it felt necessary.
At some point, Rune came back down from the glass room.
I was quick to grab a few drinks and a charger for my phone and haul my ass up there, intending to spend the rest of the night up there and away from temptation if the girls came back to crash. Which, if the past was anything to go by, they would. They liked to take the party into the wee hours of the morning. And they knew they were safe in the clubhouse. No creeps copping a feel. Someone to keep an eye on them and make sure they weren’t getting sick or overdoing it.
From my vantage point, when the girls did eventually make their way back. They were still riding high from the vibes of the bar, dancing around, their smiles big. Layna was getting a piggyback from Croft, likely because of the high heels she’d chosen to wear.