Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“I’ve only known one girl who has slept with him, and from what I heard, he’s a maniac in bed.”
“Like?” I raise a brow.
Louise wipes her mouth with her napkin, her pink lipstick coming off.
“She was covered in bruises, but every time someone mentioned them, she just smirked.” She rolls her eyes. “Who smirks at pain?”
“Someone who clearly got off.”
“Oh shit…” Her eyes lift to a spot over my shoulder, and when I spin around, I see exactly why she just swore.
Zuko is striding directly toward me.
And if I were a sane woman, I would run.
Far, far away.
But instead, I sit and cross my legs as he nears us.
“Ladies,” he drawls, his eyes locked on me. “I see you are enjoying the meal I paid for.”
I raise the glass. “We are. Care to join us?”
“I think I’m going to leave. Thank you, Alaska.” Louise stands, steps up beside me, and kisses my cheek before she glimpses back at Zuko. “And thank you for paying.” She giggles before she scurries off. He doesn’t wait a second before he takes her seat directly across from me.
“Have you come to collect your card?” I ask, smirking.
“No, actually.”
I raise a brow at his words.
“So why are you here?”
“I came to see the dress you’re wearing since it cost me a lot of money.”
I pull the chair out and stand. Taking two steps, I stop directly next to him and turn in a slow circle, showing him every angle. When I finish, I make to go back to my seat, but his hand flies out and catches my wrist, effectively stopping me.
“I didn’t see clearly enough. Spin again.” His words send shivers all over my body, and I feel the goose bumps take over, but I listen to him and do as he says, turning slowly. When I face him once more, after his eyes have burned right through my dress, I find him licking his lips. “Do I make you nervous?”
“Why would you think that?” I ask.
“Because your breathing changed, and that only happened when I arrived.”
I take my seat and sit back down.
“I wouldn’t call it nervous.”
“Oh? What would you call it?” He smirks, leaning back in his seat. The confidence he shows is flying off him in waves of utter domineering assertiveness.
The waiter comes over and offers him a glass. He waves him off and doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“Interested,” is all I can manage to say.
“The feeling is mutual.” His eyes move to my hand. “You aren’t married?” he asks.
“Would that matter?” I reply.
He shrugs. “One less person I would have to kill, is all.”
Well, fuck.
“Not married,” I confirm. “You?”
“Why would I do something so suicidal as to tie myself to a person?” he answers.
“Suicidal. Interesting word choice.”
“Yes, I guess it is.” His jaw relaxes and he draws in a shallow breath. “I have an errand to run, and I hate errands. Care to join me?” He stands, offering me his hand.
“Can I keep your card?”
“For the time being.”
“You must be pretty rich, huh?” I ask, lifting my bag to my shoulder.
“I wouldn’t class myself as rich. Rich is crass, wealthy has a better ring to it. Do I have money that I don’t spend? Yes.”
“Why don’t you spend it?” I question as I make my way to the door.
He matches my steps and never misses a beat as he speaks, “Never had anything to spend it on before.”
And I get the feeling he is talking about something more than possessions.
SEVEN
Zuko
What a little vixen, that’s the only way to describe her.
A fucking vixen.
The way her hips sashay in that dress is driving me insane. I can’t tell if she chose the cherry red dress because it matches her manicured nails, or because it hugs her curves like a second skin. Either way, I’m thinking of buying her the same dress in every color just so I can rip them off her body.
“Did you drive?” I turn to ask her.
She bites her lip and shakes her head. “I planned to drink, actually. How soon do we need to be at your errand?” she asks, one of her hands clutching her purse.
“There’s no rush. Why?”
“Because I have to pick something up.”
“What is it?” She rolls her tongue over her lips as she strolls down the sidewalk, and I leave my car back at the restaurant as I follow her.
“Does this something have to do with spending my money?”
Her hair flicks over her shoulder as she peers at me. “Yes. Did I tell you,” she pauses for effect, “I absolutely love how good of a tipper you are?” Her eyes glow with mischief. Before I can say anything, she spins and heads toward the BMW dealership.
“Oh fuck,” I mutter.
She continues until she gets to the doors of the dealership, where there’s a salesperson standing there to greet her.