Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
"Hi, Detective Lewis. This is Ivy Kendall. Um, Bryan Gleeson from Grover Johnson Elementary said you need to speak with me." I give him my number and then drop my phone and his card into my purse.
I sit there for a few minutes, trying to figure out how my name came up in an investigation, and then decide not to stress myself out over it. Like Bryan said, the kid was probably at one of the bars I played, and they want to know if I saw him. I'll talk to the detective when he calls and that will be that.
Dragging myself up, I turn on the radio in the corner and set about cleaning up the rest of my classroom.
I'm between sets when Erin slips into Mitch's around eleven, her hair hanging in ringlets down her back. She's in a flirty black dress paired with a jean jacket and cowboy boots. And she is definitely wearing her good bra if the cleavage she's sporting is any indication. A few appreciative gazes follow her as she slides into the corner booth across from me.
"Sorry," she says, sailing past everyone to my booth. "I had to run errands and I lost track of time. Getting anywhere in this city on a Friday night is a pain in the ass. Are you going to finish these?" She points at my cheese fries and then reaches out to snag one, popping it into her mouth before I can answer.
I push them towards her, too full to eat anything else.
"Nice crowd," she says, her gaze darting around the room before she turns back to me. She pops another cheese fry into her mouth. "Why do you look so grumpy?"
"The guy in the back." I shift my gaze in his direction, subtly pointing out the cause of my attitude to her. He's in the very back corner of the bar, sitting in a dark booth by himself, nursing a beer. He's been there all night, staring at me. I haven't been able to get a good look at him, but what I have seen? Damn. With dark hair, deep golden skin, and a day's worth of scruff on his face, he's gorgeous. Bold tattoos peek from beneath the arms of the simple black tee he's wearing. He's big, powerful, his jeans and tee stretching over the muscles they encase.
"Damn," Erin says, licking her lips.
"He's been staring at me all night," I grumble, not sure if I'm more irritated or turned on. Since when did complete strangers make heat pool low in my stomach? Apparently since Tall, Dark and Brooding walked into the bar and parked his fine ass in the corner.
"Of course he has." Erin rolls her eyes. "You look fucking hot."
"Thanks." My jet-black hair is up in an intricate braid and I'm wearing just enough makeup to make my blue eyes pop, but my dress is shorter and tighter than I usually wear. I love the way the slinky material feels against my skin. The top is a halter with the bottom barely reaching mid-thigh. The dark purple color seems to shimmer under the lights of the stage. I love the way it looks.
I may be curvy, but I'm not ashamed of my body and I don't hide it for anyone.
"Hey." Erin grabs Mitch by the hand as he starts to pass by.
"What's up, doll?" he asks, winking at her. Mitch is an incurable flirt. He's also old enough to be her father, but that's never stopped him. In the year I've known him, he's never lacked for female companionship either, so clearly the whole charming rogue thing is working for him.
"The guy in the back. Who is he?"
Mitch turns to look over his shoulder, his light eyes narrowing on the mystery man. "Don't know. Why?" He turns those eyes on me, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. "Is he bothering you?"
"No." I wave him off before he can get all protective. Staring isn't a crime. I don't want the guy tossed out just because he's annoying me. "He's fine."
"You sure?"
"Promise." I shoot Mitch a grin before my gaze darts back to the guy.
Our eyes meet. He doesn't look away, instead boldly holding my gaze.
Screw it. Two can plan this game.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I tip my chin up and narrow my eyes, glaring at him. The corners of his lips lift in a subtle smirk, almost like he knows I'm silently calling him out and is challenging me to see who cracks first.
I arch a brow, ignoring the little thrill that zings through me at the gleam in his eyes.
God, those eyes.
They're penetrating, captivating. I've never seen such dark gray eyes before. It's hot.
He is hot, scorching.
The way he watches me with that cocky smirk on his face screams alpha. He's in charge and he knows it. I think my body does too. Heat races through me, my nipples hardening. A bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck as I clench and unclench my fingers. I'm dying to shift around beneath the weight of his gaze to relieve the ache between my thighs.