Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“What a great tattoo.” Lady one traces her fingers over the dragon that covers a large portion of my chest.
I only have one other tattoo—on the back of my thigh, where I can’t see it.
I have my reasons for having the tattoo, and also for not wanting to see it.
“Let’s get those fucking pants off you,” Lady two says. She unties my black boots and slides them off my feet along with my socks.
Lady one works on my belt and zipper and then my black jeans. “God, you’re fucking sexy,” she says.
“So are you.”
Once my jeans are off and my cock is free, they both widen their eyes at my girth. Yeah, I’m not just long. I’m thick. I’ve had women run away screaming.
But not these two. They want to fuck a rock star.
I’m far from a rock star. I’m Emerald Phoenix’s sloppy seconds, but who the fuck cares? I’m going to get laid by two hotties, and boy, am I ready.
Chapter Nine
Diana
I return, and Dragon’s door is shut.
I knock. “Dragon?”
He opens the door. He’s changed clothes, and he’s wearing jeans and a black-and-white striped button-down.
He looks…
Damned good.
“Got your keys.” I pull them out of my pocket. “You get two in case you lose one. They’ll get you into the building, into the penthouse, and into the fitness room.”
“Thanks.” He takes them, pulls a wallet out of his pocket, and shoves them inside.
I widen my eyes at the “thanks.” Is it the first one I’ve actually gotten?
I still feel like I’m on thin ice after the awkward conversation about the lock on my door, so I’ll take it. I give him a weak smile and turn away when the low rumble of his voice sends another chill up my spine.
I grab my phone. “We should exchange cell phone numbers too, since we’ll be living together and all.”
He grabs his phone. “Sure. Good idea.”
We quickly exchange information, and he shoves his phone back into his pocket.
“So…I was thinking…” he begins.
I turn around. “What?”
“I’d like to take you out to dinner.” A small burst of pink rushes onto his cheek. “You know, in appreciation for what you’re doing for me.”
I cock my head. Is he serious? Does he really think one dinner is going to pay for a room in my penthouse?
But when I look into his eyes, I see something there. He wants to do this. Perhaps it’s all he can do.
“That’s not necessary,” I say.
“I know.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “If you want to turn me down, I totally get it. I brought in groceries. I can make myself a sandwich. But I’d like to do this, and believe me, I won’t be asking you again. Not until I get a steady stream of income coming in.”
He looks sincere, and damn, his eyes are beautiful.
Every time I talk to him—which has only been a few times back at my parents’ home on the western slope when the band’s played at their parties—I can’t help but notice his eyes. So magnificent and breathtaking but always laced with a bit of sadness. As if there’s something inside him that he doesn’t talk about, doesn’t even think about. Yet it’s always there, an undertone in everything else he is.
I smile. This time it’s not so forced. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”
“There’s this great little diner a couple of blocks down. I went there sometimes during rehab.” He presses his lips together. “Once I was allowed to leave, that is. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but—”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “That sounds lovely. When do you want to leave?”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “It’s five o’clock. Now would be a good time since it’s Saturday night. We’ll probably beat the crowds.”
“All right. Let me change.”
“You don’t need to change. You look great.”
“I’m in sweats.” I let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll change.”
He frowns and looks down at the shirt he’s wearing. “You want me to change?”
“God, no. You look great. I’m just going to throw on some jeans and a nicer shirt. I won’t be but a minute.”
I leave him standing there and walk to my master bedroom.
It’s about twice the size of Dragon’s room. I feel like I should have given him the larger second bedroom.
But he seems fine. He even seems grateful, though he has trouble saying it. Buying me dinner will probably take all the spare cash he has, which is part of the reason why I didn’t want him to do it. The other part is that it’s going to be so awkward.
But it seems important to him, and I do want to help. Brianna thinks this is where he should be, and though part of me believes that’s due to her being a little dick-whipped and wanting to do anything for her new husband, another part knows my sister. She’s young and vivacious and a little full of herself sometimes, but she’s also a genuinely kind person.