Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol #3) Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blame it on the Alcohol Series by Fiona Cole
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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His eyes flicked to my lips again before holding up his beer. “I am.”

I snagged the bottle and drained it. “Well, now you need another. C’mon. Vodka gimlets are calling our names. I know how much you like them.”

“Might as well do shots,” he muttered behind me.

But I didn’t care because his big rough hand was in mine, and he didn’t resist when I pulled him to the bar set up in the corner. I caught sight of Brogan off to the side with some woman’s hands glued to his broad chest and mouth latched onto his. Good for him.

We’d been at the party for less than an hour before he gave up on seducing me. Those big hands had spanned my back as we danced. The scruff of his beard abraded my neck when he told me how much he wanted me. I almost let him have me, but when I’d glanced over his shoulder, my eyes collided with a brooding green, and Brogan ceased to exist.

Something about Austin’s gaze sucked the air out of the room, leaving just the two of us. Something about the eyes I’d grown to know better than my own sparked differently—sparked something inside me differently. I’d almost stumbled, but Brogan caught me. When I looked back, the raw energy pouring from him was gone, replaced by the same bored look he’d been wearing since we got here. So, I brushed the moment aside and stuck my tongue out like a kid, earning a minor twitch of his lips.

I’d focused my attention back on Brogan—or tried to—but when he realized he wasn’t getting any from me, he left with another girl—not the same one he currently had pinned to a wall. Not that I cared. I was having too much fun.

“Oh, wait.” I held up my hand to stop Austin from drinking and dug through my purse for my phone. “Can you take a video, please?” I asked the bartender.

“Sure.”

I looked around and assessed Austin, trying to figure out the best pose. “Sit on the stool,” I ordered. With his usual dramatic sigh, he complied, bringing his feet to the bottom rung. I snagged the bottle of vodka and sat it discreetly off to the side. “Maybe they’ll end up sponsoring me.” I shrugged.

He smiled, watching for my next move. He always gave me shit with his eye rolls and groans, but he’d told me more than once that he enjoyed watching my mind work as I put together the perfect pictures. Everyone assumed I was a vapid, selfie-obsessed airhead, but Austin saw the art behind what I did.

“Whoa, whoa,” he said when I pushed his knees apart to step between them.

“Calm down. Your virtue is safe,” I joked. “I’m just trying to get close for the photo.”

With a cocked brow, he relaxed and made room for me.

“I mean, your virtue is safe for now. Who knows about later?” I waggled my brows, loving the deep rumbling laugh. “Now, let’s link arms and take our drinks.”

He had to lean in so I could get my arm around his muscular one. The rough hair on his forearm tickled my skin, sending goosebumps all the way up my arm to my neck. It was either that soft caress or the way our foreheads almost touched. Or maybe it was how his eyes turned serious again, so similar to before, melting into an emerald green as they met mine. I always taunted him, loving the way he laughed and looked away as if embarrassed. But sometimes, he didn’t look away, instead leaving me a pile of goo under the heat flaring in the depths.

There was no doubt that Austin and I were just friends, but the way he stared now made all the other times I turned to goo feel like standing beside a pile of embers compared to the raging bonfire burning me from the inside out now. Despite our friendship, being this close almost begged me to close the gap and finally taste him. Being this close had me desperately wondering what it would be like if he acted on the intense promise in his look.

Just. Friends, I reminded myself. As much as I wanted to eat Austin’s delicious body up with my bare hands, I’d never do it at the risk of losing his friendship. Because I knew that if we ever slept together, he’d want more than I could give, and there’d be no going back.

So, friendship it was.

With a wink, I lifted my glass to my lips and sipped from the edge, watching him do the same.

“Perfecto,” I announced to the bartender.

“I’m glad you approve.” He smiled and handed my phone back.

“Better than your beer?” I asked Austin.

“Maybe a little,” he answered, taking another drink.

“I’m always right. Now let’s dance.”

“I’m good.”

“Ugh. Fine. Then you can watch.”


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