Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Maybe it was my near-death experience a few weeks back.
“What’s with that look?” he asks as we get to the other side of the road and walk up the path to the hotel. Looking around, I love the garden setting with the stunning flowers and greenery. We aren’t even in the hotel yet, and it’s stunning. The music for the fountain show starts to play, and I stop as I watch the water fly up in the air. I feel him come up next to me, but he stands there quietly as I watch.
Maybe I should venture out more because this is tranquil and so incredibly beautiful. When it finishes, I turn to him. I can’t help the sigh of disappointment at the way my life has turned out.
“What was with that sigh?” he asks.
It takes me a while to decide whether to just brush the question off or answer him. For some reason, I just feel like confiding in him. “I want a promotion they won’t give me,” I tell him.
He nods and turns, heading toward the hotel again. I quickly catch up and follow him inside, trying not to feel idiotic for spilling my guts so to speak and have him not even respond.
“My room or the bar?” he asks as we enter the air-conditioned foyer of the hotel.
“Bar,” I say.
I am not going to his room.
No, thank you.
He leads me to the nearest bar in the casino, and I sit next to him as the bartender comes over.
“What do you drink?” Kenzo asks, and before I can say anything, he shakes his head. “And not that shit you had earlier.”
I shrug. I don’t know. I don’t drink much, and when I do, it’s to help me socially. It’s why I drank so much at the work dinner. Then I had a buzz when they left, hence why I was stuck in the slots area, not moving. He shakes his head as he orders a margarita for me and bourbon on ice for him. His hands clutch together as he leans on the bar, his back straight as he focuses on something.
He really is pretty.
“Can’t say I get that compliment often.”
My head shoots up, and I lock eyes with him. His lips fight a smirk, and I know I said that out loud.
Fuck.
“Not today. You wouldn’t like how I fucked you.” His tongue darts out and licks his bottom lip.
Shit, I said that out loud too.
I place my hand over my mouth as the bartender returns and slides my drink toward me. I reach for it and put it to my lips. The salt is the first thing I taste, followed by the sweetness, and I like it—a lot.
“What is it?” I ask Kenzo, taking another sip.
“Raspberry margarita,” he replies, then asks, “What promotion?”
I didn’t think he actually heard me, as he seemed to brush it off at the time. He taps the bar, indicating another drink for him. Shit, he drank that one fast. He sits back, spreads his hands on the bar, and gives me his full attention. His hands are strong, veiny, and I can see ink on them. I wonder what that ink says.
“Nothing important,” he says quietly.
Well, shit. Maybe I shouldn’t drink anymore. Everything I think, I seem to say out loud.
Gripping my drink, I hold it tightly. Normally, I wouldn’t talk to him about this. Okay, let’s be real, I wouldn’t normally be here or talk to anyone about this. I would be in my apartment, alone, doing what I want. Not in another state, drinking at a bar with a known hitman.
As I’ve said before, I’ve heard the stories.
How much of it is real, I still don’t know.
“It doesn’t matter. They want to give it to either a man or a woman who is married, and clearly that isn’t me.” I lift the drink and put it to my lips.
“Married?” he asks.
I shrug and try my best to not look at him.
“Mayve? Oh my God. Mayve, is that you?” I hear the high-pitched voice before I see its owner. When I look over my shoulder, Vanessa and about ten other people I work with are coming our way. I grip my drink so hard that I might break the glass if I was strong enough. “You actually ventured out. Look at you. Wanna come hang out, so you aren't so…lonely?” She says the word “lonely” like it’s a dirty word, and I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling. Like she cares so much about me. Bitch just wants to make a scene in front of our colleagues. She eyes me, and I literally feel the venom in her words like the snake she is has envenomated me. Her gaze shifts to the spot next to me, to Kenzo, who’s sitting there. Her eyes go wide, and I see the moment the hunger hits them. I mean, I get it. He’s good-looking.