Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
We pull up outside a small Victorian style block of offices on the busy street
"I have your number. I'll be in touch when I need you." She smiles and places what was supposed to be a swift kiss on my lips, but I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer, deepening the kiss. When I pull away she’s flushed and a little breathless. She looks at me for a moment with bright eyes and runs her nails over the stubble of my jaw in an intimate gesture before leaving the car. I watch her as she walks through the front door. Everything about her is articulate, she moves with the grace of a ballerina. Wherever she goes people notice her, male and female. She just has a presence that commands attention, combined with a beauty that cannot be rivalled. The woman is seriously hot.
"Head to the gym please James." I lean back in the seat and try and try to clear my head. I can still taste her, and the scent of her perfume still hangs in the air. My cock still aches for her. I inhale deeply. I'm destined to spend the rest of my days with a boner, always wanting her again and again.
Chapter 10 – Lilly
It's Thursday night and as promised, George and I are heading out for drinks. We asked Molly to join us, but she had to work a show tonight. I dress in a navy blue wrap dress with capped sleeves, a deep neckline and a skirt that is definitely leaning toward the shorter side of mid-thigh, paired with heels, its killer.
George slings an arm around my shoulder as we stand at the bar in ‘Vodka’, which as the name suggests is a vodka bar. Two little trays of six shots are placed in front of us.
"So my little vixen, are we drowning sorrows over an arsehole, or are we celebrating a new toy?" He grins whilst wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I laugh. "Well he is an arsehole, but he happens to be a very attractive arsehole. So yes, I may indulge in a little play."
He chuckles. "Girl after my own heart. Chin chin." He clinks his first shot to mine. We down all six shots in succession. The sickly sweet alcohol makes my stomach churn, but I manage to keep them down. I must be losing my touch.
"Right, we're going to play the number game. Deadline is one 'o' clock, after that you owe me drinks for the rest of the night." He smiles.
"Pft, you'll be owing me more like. You're on."
We drink, we dance, we laugh, we go to several bars, though I couldn't tell you where. All I know is that in the last club we somehow kicked the dancers off their podiums and took their places. George got kicked out. I’d just like to note, I didn’t, probably because I’m female, but I’m not telling him that in the morning. The story will be that he was so wasted he got physically removed from the pole. By the end of the night I have a lot of numbers, but George cheats and chats up girls as well as guys prior to his removal of course. They all swoon and practically throw their knickers at him. I have argued many a time that this is unfair, as George would not sleep with them. He argued that I wouldn’t sleep with half the men who give me their number either. Sneaky bastard.
Now usually I'm the one that's being carried home, throwing up and passing out, however this time it's George that quickly ends up wasted. For once I'm the responsible one and stop drinking once I see this going south fast, although by the time I stop I'm already pretty pissed. At a measly twelve o’ clock we stagger out of some club and start wondering aimlessly down the street. My head is still seriously spinning from all the tequila shots we had about an hour ago.
"Baaabe. I am soooo hoorny right noow." George slurs.
"Oh my god. Me too." I giggle.
"Let’s have sex!" He shouts before laughing so hard he ends up slumped against a shop window.
"Ew George. I'm pretty sure I'm missing some necessary body parts for that."
"You're riiight babe. If I were straight though..." He squints at me, which I think is supposed to be sexy but just makes me giggle more. "...totally would. I'm gonna text T.J." He slurs. T.J is a dancer friend of Georges. They sometimes hook up. "You should totally use that fine piece of arse. Call him." He waves toward my clutch bag whilst he concentrates on his phone. I have a feeling that whatever George is intending to write is not the same text T.J will actually receive.
"Which one? Cruise or Theo?" I laugh.