Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
I hold back a gag as I finish my business and quickly wash my hands so I can get back to the party. I'm seriously having an incredible night. Milo has introduced me to a few of the girls from Bellevue Springs Private. Though he was quick to realize that I don’t mix well with chicks. He also introduced me to some of Bellevue Springs' most eligible bachelors who don’t strut around with poles up their asses, then he introduced me to the very opposite. The people he thinks I should stay away from are most likely the people I’d get along with; the wild ones, the ones who know how to hook me up, and the ones who wouldn't judge me if I got fucked up and woke up in a strange hotel room.
I walk out of the bathroom and as I go, I pass one of those girls with a tray of champagne flutes. Clearly having learned nothing from my mistakes, I bring the glass to my lips and take a nice long drink.
Fuck.
Yep, it still tastes like piss, though now that my mind is a little foggy with all the fruity yumminess I’ve been drinking, it’s a little more tolerable. So because I like to punish myself, I throw back the rest of the glass and try not to choke on it. I'm a smart bitch like that.
I set the empty glass down on the edge of a stone statue in passing as I search for my new husband among the crowd. I wonder how many husbands I'm going to have before I get kicked out of Bellevue Springs.
“Yo, Help.”
Chills run down my spine as I turn back to find my original Bellevue Springs husband staring at me, only it’s not just Spencer, it’s all four of them.
The second they get my full attention, eyes begin scanning up and down my body and I want nothing more than to smack the hungry expressions off each of their faces. This honey pot is not for sale, especially to douche canoes like this.
I can’t help but look over them, and by ‘them’ what I really mean is Colton. He looks incredible, he’s practically oozing power and it speaks right to my soul. How can one person have such an effect over another without even murmuring a single word?
I wonder what would happen if I licked him right now? Nah, he probably wouldn’t like that.
One part of me wants to high-five the guy and tell him to go get it while the other part wants to push every single one of the buttons on his expensive suit and see just how far I can push him.
His suit sits over his body just perfectly and it makes me so damn hungry. He looks sharp, demanding, and completely in control. That is until I notice the tiny little CC cufflinks at his wrist and realize that on top of looking like a fucking beast, he also looks like an arrogant asshat.
The other three look like children playing dress-up with Daddy’s money while Colton Carrington looks like the fucker you don't want to be sitting across from in a boardroom meeting. Despite the smile across his handsome face, he looks dangerous. He fucking owns it and damn, it's the most attractive thing I've ever seen.
Colton oozes power and to me, nothing could be sexier.
Realizing I'm probably drooling, I pull on my game face and straighten my shoulders before his hazel eyes paralyze me. “What do you want?” I demand, my attitude coming out fast and thick as I stare down Spencer with a lethal glare.
His arm raises, holding out an empty tumbler to me and on instinct, I take it. “Scotch neat and make it quick.”
I pull back, in confusion. “Excuse me?” I question as a slight smirk plays on Colton’s lips.
Spencer stares as though I’m some kind of daft moron. “I don’t make a habit of repeating myself,” he says, dragging his gaze away from mine and rolling his eyes as he looks across at Colton. “I thought your dad only hired the best. His standards are slipping.”
Hired? The fuck? Does this fucker think I’m working at this party?
My gaze narrows on him but before I get a word out, Jude thrusts his empty glass into my other hand, and I find myself flinching from his closeness. “I’ll take a whiskey sour but go easy on the lemon.”
Charlie grins, stepping into me and lowering his voice to a seductive whisper. “I’ll just take whatever you’ve got on offer,” he murmurs, as my eyes flick around the party to notice that the other waitresses are also in black dresses with a similar cut across the chest. Their dresses are all cocktail length with thick straps over their shoulders. Honestly, while they look great, their dresses have nothing on the gown that’s currently hugging my body.