Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
My cheeks flush, and I hope this guy can’t see it in the dark of the club. “Well, thanks for that, knight in…slightly disheveled suit.” I gesture at him with a grin.
He returns it, and oh, damn. He is even hotter than I thought at first. The club lights illuminate sharp hollows under his cheekbones and a sturdy brow. He’s got the kind of face that makes you immediately think about how he’d be in bed: stern and commanding, a total dom in the best possible way. “I agree with you, you know,” he says. “About hard work. There’s no shame in it.”
He takes a step closer, and I couldn’t back away if I wanted to, with the wall at my back, and me still leaning against it. Besides, I don’t want to. I raise my chin to keep my eyes locked on his, even though he’s a good head taller than me. “That why you look like you just stepped out of a board room, even though you’re in the middle of a club in Vegas?” I ask, surprising myself with my audacity. Normally I don’t really talk to guys. I don’t bother. I’m too busy for a relationship.
But this could never be a relationship. Hook ups in Vegas don’t become anything more than just that. And maybe a hook up is what I need. After all, I’ve been working my ass off at school for years. When I finally graduated, I worked my ass off some more at internships and applying for jobs, until I finally landed my dream gig. This is my one weekend to let off steam before I have to become a responsible adult. Before I start working full-time, and God knows how long it’ll be before I have the chance to do anything even remotely resembling a casual hook up again.
My mystery man laughs, like he’s startled, too. Good. Something about his serious demeanor makes me want to surprise him. To catch him off his guard and make him laugh, if I can. “What can I say? The club scene isn’t normally my beat. Wound up here by chance.” He’s grinning as he says it, his gaze sweeping over me. But unlike the creeper, it doesn’t bother me when this guy checks me out.
In fact, I’d like him to keep doing it. If nothing else, it will distract him from noticing that I’m doing the same thing to him. Giving that sexy body of his a once over of my own, because damn, that suit fits him perfectly. And it makes me wonder how it would look on my hotel room floor.
“What a coincidence,” I call back to him, raising my voice as the music gets louder. “Me too.”
“Well, we should celebrate then. What are you drinking?” He winks at me and holds out an arm, like a real gentleman. Right here in the middle of a bunch of gyrating clubgoers, it strikes me as even more unusual.
I loop my arm through his. “Tequila, mostly,” I admit, and I’m gratified to see him cringe.
“You need something more suitable. What do you usually drink, when you’re not clubbing in Vegas?”
I laugh. “I don’t know. I’m not much of a drinker. Something simple, maybe. Not too sweet.” He leans across the bar and orders us both vodka tonics—top shelf, I notice. “You don’t have to do that,” I call in his ear. “I’m fine with well drinks.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he replies, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “A girl like you deserves top shelf everything.”
For some reason, those words send a curl of pleasure through my belly. Even more so when he trails a hand up my arm to rest on my shoulder, his fingertips alighting so gently on my skin that they raise goosebumps the whole way up. I shiver, unable to suppress it, and his grin widens, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
He probably does. Bastard.
It makes me want more.
The bartender passes us our drinks—it didn’t take long at all, not like when Lea and I ordered shots before. I suspect the bartender must have been keeping an eye out for this guy. Probably because he’s the type to buy top shelf liquor in a club like this.
“What’s your name?” I call into his ear. Unless I’m mistaken, he flinches for a second, as though hesitating.
“John,” he calls back. Okay. No last names. I can dig it. We are, after all, in Vegas. The land of anonymity. That’s fair enough.
“I’m Mara.” I stick out my hand, which seems hilariously formal and awkward after I do it, making another blush bloom across my cheeks. But John just places my drink into my hand and leans in until his lips graze my ear.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mara.”
I swear, if a guy could make you come with his voice alone, John is the one who would do it. Deep and baritone, it vibrates all the way through my body, making my thighs tighten and my belly clench. I shift a little closer to him as I take my a sip of my drink.