Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Vance said to let you know he’s on my tab.” Greer waved his credit card in the air. The bartender laughed and nodded, reaching out to take the card, probably not the first time he’d heard those directives where Vance was concerned.
“Greer? What’re you doing here?” Skye pressed against his back as she shoved herself between him and the guy beside him. She was just slight enough and pretty enough not to piss the other guy off as he was forced to make room for her.
“I’m asking myself the same question,” he yelled back. “What’re you doing here?”
“What do y’all want to drink?” Sam called out, gaining their attention again.
“Grey Goose on the rocks.” He looked down at the cash in Skye’s outstretched hand. “Who’re you here with?”
“We have a table over there,” she pointed absently over her shoulder. “The gym. Come join us. There’s room.”
He nodded. It might be better than standing alone, looking for a dance partner. “Tell him what you want to drink.”
Skye ordered two cocktails and a beer and tried to put her money on the bar top. He pushed it back at her and leaned in to be better heard. “Put them on my tab.”
“You don’t have to, Greer.” Her dark wide-eye stare showed she was clearly into her drinks this evening, already a little tipsy.
“Is Kailey here?” he asked.
The tempo of the music increased. The walls started thumping. He bent to lower his ear to hear her better. Skye still had to lean in, lift on her tiptoes and yell. “No, Kailey couldn’t come. I’m here with some of the guys and Stacy from the gym. It’s the owner’s birthday. What’re you doing here?”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure. It just happened,” he explained vaguely, grinning at her confused look. Their drinks came, drawing her attention back to the bar, keeping him from having to say anything more. Skye reached for two of the glasses while he grabbed his and the other one, lifting them high in the air to avoid spilling them as they pushed their way through the throng of revelers. Luckily, her table was close by and did appear to have room for him.
“Hey, everyone! This is Greer. I found him at the bar. He’s a member of the gym.” Skye handed off one of her drinks before taking the one in Greer’s hand and giving it to another guy. Luckily the popular, blaring song came to an end while ushering in another that wasn’t quite as loud.
“Yeah, man, I’ve seen you around. Join us.” One of the trainer’s reached out to slap his hand in greeting.
“That’s Tank,” she said then pointed to the equally bulked-up bodybuilder beside him. “Jorge’s the owner.”
Greer nodded in his direction. Those two stood to the side of one table.
“You’ve been coming to the gym awhile now,” Jorge said.
“I have. It’s a good place to work out.” Greer nodded, following Skye’s finger as she ticked off the other men and the woman sitting on the booth behind the table. “That’s Jon, Stacy, and on the far end, that’s Dallas. He’s had a little too much to drink.”
Greer gave a chin lift to each of them. When his gaze landed on the last guy, the breath froze in his lungs. Holy hell! Sin personified. Dallas was gorgeous, and Greer couldn’t stop staring. His heart leapt against his ribs. Every fiber of his being homed in on the relaxed man paying zero attention to him. Even seated, Greer could see Dallas was tall, maybe the tallest one among them all…and dark, not devilish, more Mediterranean with thick, rich chestnut hair and a nice, smooth complexion.
The loud clatter of dishes pulled Greer from his lustful stupor as his surroundings came back into focus. Greer lifted his drink to his lips as he turned back to Jorge in an attempt to hold his shit together and remember his manners.
“Happy birthday!” He hoped he sounded sincere as he glanced toward the handsome man again.
Full lips and a strong chiseled jaw—damn, he liked a good strong jaw. Spellbound, Greer watched in slow motion as Dallas’s long dark eyelashes swept down then up again as he blinked. Every part of that man embedded himself inside Greer’s very soul. He wanted to introduce himself to Dallas in so many ways.
Greer’s dick grew rigid even though he’d been completely sated earlier.
Dallas was built but not with excessive muscle like Tank or Jorge. He was perfectly proportioned. More than anything, he wished he could see the exact color of Dallas’s eyes.
Greer’s heart hadn’t slowed. In fact, it had sped up the more he watched the dark-haired beauty until the damned organ hammered in his chest, his pulse tripping as he took a deep breath, absorbing such a visceral reaction to another human being. Everything about Dallas’s look just did it for Greer. The club and their surroundings only settled back around Greer when Skye ran her hand the length of his forearm, drawing his attention down to her.