Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“You don’t accept drinks from other men,” I growl at Lena.
Her eyebrows furrow, and she pouts. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“When you’re not behaving, I do.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, and those fucking tits drive me berserk. “You don’t own me.”
A ruthless chuckle escapes me. “Oh, but I do, sunshine. You don’t accept drinks from other men. Do we have a clear understanding?”
River’s hands snake around Anya’s waist. “I didn’t expect to see you in a place like this,” he says to her.
“It smells, and the patrons are filthy,” she says, apparently disgusted with the place. “But she insisted. Now, take me home.”
“Aren’t you two a bore, leaving as soon as you arrive,” Will interjects.
I ignore him, only focused on my very drunk singer. “Did you have fun celebrating?”
She pouts again as she wobbly steps forward and grabs my shirt. “Well, it’s better now that you finally showed up, Aleksandr.”
I reach up for her, and my hands go to her waist. Even drunk, she calls me by my given name. Not Alek.
I like it.
She’s so drunk that I expected her to be more upset about me hitting the guy, but it’s as if she’s already forgotten.
“What the fuck has she been drinking tonight?” I ask Anya as they walk past.
“It went along the lines of the song she kept singing as each one went down. One margarita. Two margarita—”
Lena cuts her off with her hands in the air excitedly. “Three margaritas.”
Anya gives me a scathing look. “I prefer when she’s on stage and sings. I cannot unhear that awful song now.”
I try to hide the smirk at Anya’s disapproval.
Lena looks up at me, and I smell the alcohol on her breath as she gazes at me with a smile. “Do you like my new dress?” she asks.
“I prefer how you look with it off,” I grit. She chuckles. “Yes, you look beautiful, sunshine. We’re leaving now.” I grab her hand and begin to lead her through the crowd as she complains.
“I was having fun,” she whines as I walk her out the back door, where there are fewer people. She leans on me as we go, and she clutches to the back of my shirt. I hope I don’t have too much blood on me.
“You smell good.” I look down to see her grinning up at me. I don’t know if I should tell her or not, but I think it’s best to leave it. Surely, it’s my cologne she can smell.
I spot my car up ahead, but before we make it, she comes to a halt. I turn and face her, noticing she looks pale.
“I feel sick.”
I manage to move back in time and pull her hair back just as she bends over in that fucking dress and throws up near a dumpster.
“How did that song go, sunshine? One margarita, two margarita?”
“Shut u—” She hurls again, and I can’t help but smirk.
It’s strange. I never thought I’d be in a place like this. Or Anya either, for that matter. But I suppose we were both making exceptions in how we might cater to Lena in our world. I’m willing to bend backward for her if she’d so much as ask for it.
“Hey, man, get her out of here,” a bouncer calls out from the back entrance. Clearly, he’s not familiar with who the fuck I am. When I don’t reply, he comes closer.
Lena throws up again, her hands going to her stomach.
“Man, fuck off with her. Fucking women never know how to handle their shit,” he sneers.
I hold her with one hand as I reach beneath my jacket with the other and pull out my gun. I aim it at his head, and his hands instantly go up.
“How about you give me that towel in your pocket and keep your fucking opinions to yourself?” I say, tilting my head to the side as I hold her hair, the sound of her hurling echoing through the back alleyway.
“Of course. Fuck, man, calm down.” He steps forward with one hand still up and hands me the towel hanging from his pocket with the other.
I wave the gun from him to the door.
“Now, fuck off.” He nods and runs inside the club.
I lean over Lena. “Feeling better?” I ask. I wipe around her mouth with the towel.
“Oh my g-god, is that a g-gun?” she stutters in a whisper. I put it back in my pants and nod my head.
“It is. Now, if you would be a champ and get in the car, I need to take you home.”
“Who were you going to use a gun on?” she asks, clearly having missed the past few minutes due to hurling.
“You’re going to feel this tomorrow, sweetheart.”
She groans but looks up at me through thick eyelashes. “Have you missed me?” she asks. Her hands go to my chest, and she leans into me. Her head rests over my heart.