Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 90276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
He chuckled. “Sounds like a chore.”
He had no idea. He tightened his grip in my hair and drew me in for another kiss. It wasn’t hard and demanding like I yearned for, but it would do until I had what I wanted. He let me go with a deep groan then took my hand and pulled me through the crowd toward the door.
“Georgie!”
I turned to see Matt coming out of the back of the bar, phone to his ear. Shit. I knew exactly who he was talking to, but there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t hear what he said before he hung up and shoved his cell into his back pocket, but by the stiffness of his stride, he was pissed. Matt was my friend, Kat’s brother, and owned Avalanche. It was my local hangout, and lately I was here more often than I was at home. Matt was in the hot group with his tall, lean frame and stark, square features. In all the years I’d known him, though, he’d remained single. I’d seen the girls slip him notes, no doubt their numbers on it, but if he did hook up he kept it private.
Lionel’s hand tightened around mine as I came to a stop. He glanced down at me then looked up at the approaching Matt. “Don’t tell me you have a boyfriend?”
“Relax, Luther—”
“Lionel,” he corrected, frowning.
I flicked my hand in the air and laughed. “Whatever, sweets.” I knew his name; I just didn’t care. Besides, I was supposed to be drunk and slurring my words.
Matt stopped in front of us, took a second to eye the guy then looked back at me. “You need a ride home?” His lips pursed together tight as he looked at my hand in Lionel’s. “Thinking you probably do. Give me five and I’ll drive you.”
Shit, that would fuck up everything I had planned. “Nah, I’m good.” I winked at him. His glower deepened and his eyes narrowed in on my date.
“Georgie, you’ve had a lot to drink.” Yeah, no shit, Inspector Badger. I’d ordered five shots and four rye and gingers from Brett, the bartender, although it didn’t mean I drank them all. I had more than I usually did, but I was still sober enough to get the job done. I had made sure Lionel drank plenty of shots. When his eyes got that half-lidded look, I knew it was time to go.
Matt chin lifted to Lionel. “Listen, bud, think you better leave.”
“Yeah, that’s what we’re doing,” Lionel said.
And thank you, Lionel.
“Alone,” Matt said.
Now, that pissed me off. Jesus, I just needed to get this shit over with. I wasn’t usually nervous with what I had to do, but tonight was different and already I was having second thoughts. “Oh, go suck on some pussy, Matt. Just because you’re not getting any doesn’t mean you have to ruin my night.” I turned away and started walking to the door, but Lionel’s hand was still in mine and he was standing still, so I only made it two steps before I was sling-shot back into his chest.
“Georgie, not a good idea. You’re drunk.” Matt’s voice had an edge to it, which I completely ignored.
“Yeah, well, I like not good ideas. Let’s go fuck, Lionel.” A shiver went through me at my words. Screw it. I was letting go of him—of Deck.
Lionel shrugged then looped his arm around my waist and ushered me outside and into a cab. Before Matt had a chance to do anything, we pulled away from the curb.
The cab ride was more kissing with his hand up my skirt. I suspected the cab driver was getting a real nice show of my black lace panties in the rear view mirror.
When the cab stopped, Lionel threw him some cash then helped me out. He picked me up in his arms, swaying to the side a bit, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Our lips locked and I heard him groan.
He was drunk, wanted me and we were at his place—perfect.
My heart pounded as I heard the sound of his key, then the door opening and slamming behind us. I did a quick glance around, taking in everything then mentally taking notes. Before he noticed, I whispered in his ear. “Ruin me.” And it would be ruining—completely. Pathetic, really, but I was finally doing something about my pathetic-ism.
“I plan to.” He set me on my feet in his bedroom but kept his arm tight around my waist. I titled my head back and moaned as his hand went beneath my shirt, lifting my bra out of the way to play with my nipples.
“Oh, man, you’re incredible.” He rubbed my nipple and it felt … like a rough, wool shirt was chafing my nipples back and forth. Really, I wanted him to pinch them, make it hurt, but Lionel was all gentle and sweet. My stomach knotted. It was like every touch was tying up my intestines. I had to do this. I was fucked up anyway. What did it matter if I gave myself to some pussy? It was about time.