Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“That depends,” she says as the bartender reaches out with a rag, cleaning off the spilled beer the last couple left smeared across the bar. “How fucked up are you trying to get me?”
“Fucked up enough that you forget to slam those walls of yours back into place.”
“Shit. Then you’re gonna have to hit me with tequila,” she laughs. “Make it a margarita.”
“You got it,” I say, turning to the bartender and ordering our drinks, and as I glance back at Ky, my hand falls high on her pretty thigh. Her gaze falls to where I touch her, and she starts to worry her lips. “Don’t do that,” I say, reaching up and freeing her bottom lip from between her teeth. “You’ve known this was coming for years, and now that I’ve had you, I don’t intend on letting you go.”
“But—”
“No,” I say, my hand tightening on her thigh. “I know you’re not ready, Ky. I know you still want to fuck around and be free, and that’s fine. I’m not asking you to get into some kind of committed relationship with me.”
Her gaze flickers toward the bartender, probably wondering where the fuck her drink is. “Then what the hell are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m telling you that from here on out, I’m your home,” I say. “When you’re finished fucking around and doing whatever you gotta do to make yourself feel like you’re in control, come back to me. It’s always been that way. It’s just time for you to admit it. You’re mine, Ky. Since the day you walked into High Voltage, you’ve been mine.”
Her margarita is placed down in front of her, and she hastily scoops it up. “Oh God,” she mutters, taking a long drink. “You’re right. I’m going to need to get fucked up for this conversation.”
I nod and watch as she takes another healthy sip, her glass now half empty. She places it down on the bar, keeping her hand on the rim of the glass between us where we can each see it, something she’s always done after a friend of hers was slipped a pill last summer. “You realize it was just sex, right?”
“You realize it was so much more than just sex,” I throw back at her.
“How can you say that?” she questions. “We’ve done other stuff, all the time, and you’ve never given me the whole we’re destined star-crossed lovers speech before. Why is this any different? It’s not like you made love to me and vowed your undying love. We fucked, and it was great, so why the hell won’t you let me set my boundaries again?”
I indicate to her drink, letting her know she’s going to need some more, and she doesn’t hesitate, throwing back what’s left in the glass. “Because Ky, the moment I felt your tight little cunt squeezing around my cock, I wasn’t about to let you go,” I tell her, indicating for the bartender to get Ky a refill before I’ve even taken a single sip of my beer. “So get the fuck used to it. I know you’re young and not interested in the whole marriage and kids bullshit, but you can’t pretend that you didn’t feel how fucking good we are together.”
“Crew,” she murmurs, shaking her head.
“Deny it all you want, babe, but I know you feel it. Every fucking day I walk into the shop, I see it when you look at me. Hell, Big Jim fucking sees it too. Why else would he put up with our shameless flirting every fucking day? You know we’re good together.”
Ky braces her elbow on the bar before dropping her face into her hand and groaning. “Crew, you said we were coming here to get fucked up and then you were going to screw me all night. You didn’t say shit about talking.”
“How about this, baby. Every time you talk, I’ll get you a new drink.”
“Fuck.”
Her new margarita is placed down in front of her, and she greedily scoops it up, taking another long sip before bringing it back down to the bar. She meets my stare, holding it for a second and looking at me like she would rather be anywhere but here, but Ky has never been one to ignore a free drink. Her brows crease before letting out a deep sigh and leaning into me, crushing her forehead against my chest.
My arm scoops around her back, holding her to me as I wait for whatever she wants to say. “High Voltage is all I have,” she tells me. “But you’re right, you and me . . . we just work, but I’m twenty-three. I don’t want any of this, not yet at least. I want to fuck around and have fun, just like you said, but where the hell does that leave us? I know you, Crew. You say you can wait around for me to do what I want to do, but we both know it’s going to drive you insane. Every time Viper makes some bullshit excuse to come into the shop, you can barely keep your cool. You’ll fucking explode having to sit back and watch me screw around. You can’t do it, and on top of that, I don’t want to do that to you.”