Total pages in book: 189
Estimated words: 174749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
It’s also got a swimming pool, gym, shooting range, and fucking art gallery. A fucking art gallery. So yeah, you could say that it might be a fucking nice place to take a girl on a date. Especially if it’s a private fucking club that she normally wouldn’t have admission to.
“Your lady friend is waiting in the lobby, Mr. Hawke,” the maître d informs me and I nod my head and walk out toward the foyer. Yes, I’m hurrying. Because I want to fucking see her, okay? Told you I’m honest.
And Jesus fucking Christ, this girl does not fucking disappoint. She’s standing there in a black dress that’s tight without being indecent. It ends just above the knees. She’s got stockings and black heels on. Her hair is made and she’s got makeup on and it makes her look fucking sexy.
I feel my cock twitch just by looking at her fucking gorgeous body. The way those slender legs are holding up her frame. I want to suck them one at a time until she squeals. That waist. Fuck, that ass. The dress is just tight enough to hug her curvy ass and I want to take each ass cheek in each hand and fucking squeeze them. God fucking dammit. Those fucking tits. Her dress ends in a wraparound strapless top but it showcases those marvelous tits like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
“The way you’re looking at me, its like you’ve forgotten what I look like naked,” she says to me with a smile as she walks up to me. She hesitates and I decide for her, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. I can smell her perfume. It’s intoxicating.
“It’s like seeing you for the first time,” I tell her. You notice what I did? I didn’t fucking swear. See? I can be fucking civil if I need to.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Hawke,” she tells me with a teasing smile.
“Then what about vodka?” I ask, taking her hand and walking her into the bar that I came from. “Because this place makes the best dirty martinis in New York City.”
Ashley gasps as she sees the interior. Yeah, this is how the fucking other half lives all right. The bar is fucking plush. The wood at the bar is polished to perfection.
And literally every fucking face turns to the two of us. To the son of the smut lord and the fucking gorgeous woman on his arm. Women stare at us hungrily, and their husbands look at me jealously. Fuck ‘em.
“Let’s get a table?” I ask Ashley, but I’m not really fucking asking because I lead her over and sit her down.
“It’s a nice place,” Ashley says as she looks around. “I’m surprised.”
“Surprised that I would come here?” I ask.
“Surprised that you’re going through the effort,” she says and smiles at me. “Oh don’t get me wrong. I totally appreciate it and love the fact that we’re on a real date.”
“What the fuck would we be doing otherwise?” I ask. I’m fucking sorry but I can’t help myself.
“Fuck,” she says, and her eyes are looking right at me. I’m silent. “A part of me thought we’d get right down to that and this was some elaborate hotel so you wouldn’t have to go far.”
“I live at One57,” I tell her. “So I’m literally a block away.”
Ashley rolls her eyes. “Well that makes sense now,” she says.
“You think someone like me isn’t able to take girls on dates?” I ask a bit curious where this conversation is going.
“You stole my cab,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “Coming out of a strip club. Which is all I know about you. Sorry for not expecting more out of you.”
I laugh. She smiles at me. You’re probably looking at me thinking I’ve gone fucking crazy. Laughing at what she said.
But don’t forget. I’m the one in control here. Not her. My laughing is just a sign that I’m not fucking threatened. Because I’m not.
“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” I ask. Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re going to say. But she said ‘fuck’ first.
“Waiting to see how you’re going to try and fuck me,” she says and leans back as the waiter brings our dirty martinis to the table. He gives her a sidelong glance, obviously hearing the last part of our exchange. Ashley smiles and twirls her hair in one finger absently.
“What do you do?” she asks me.
I raise my glass. “Steal cabs from women outside of strip clubs so I can rescue them from ex-boyfriends during the day.”
She smiles and raises her glass and we click in a toast. “Thank you for the other night,” she says to me.
“Don’t mention it,” I tell her. “I was just passing by.”
“I hope you know that it doesn’t entitle you to sleep with me or anything like that,” she says to me, staring into my eyes.