Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
I think over his words and decide to lay my cards on the table. “Honestly, I want the position. I just want to talk to Ford first.”
“Then get to talking. We’ll have a patch in party to celebrate in a couple of weeks.”
“Sounds good,” I tell him, and I’m feeling like a giant weight has been lifted from me.
The guys stand and begin slapping me on the back and welcoming me to the club. I can’t deny it. It feels really fucking good. I don’t know what’s coming in the future, but I feel at home in North Carolina. For the first time in a long time—maybe ever—I think I’m right where I belong.
For some reason, I think of Gabby. I haven’t spoken to her since I woke up alone in her room with Ford and T banging on my door. I kind of miss her. I hope she’s doing okay and that she somehow finds the moment I’m having right now.
A feeling of being where you belong.
I shake my head, and let go of thoughts of the broken, blonde-haired wildcat with the eyes so beautiful you can’t define them to one color. She’s not for me, but somewhere out there, she’ll find a man to appreciate and protect her. That thought comforts me. Gabby deserves that.
She truly does.
Turn the page for a sneak peek of the next book in the series, Craving Her.
Bonus Chapter
of
Craving Her
Skylar
“It’s occupied!” I call out when someone pounds on the restroom door. Whoever it is must really, really, have to pee. I almost feel guilty for locking the main door. It’s not like the bathroom doesn’t have four stalls in here. It is probably considered a bitch move. Then again, I’ve been called a bitch often. I don’t mind it. The pounding starts again and this time it’s so harsh that I wouldn’t be surprised if the damn thing doesn’t fly off the hinges soon. I slip my lip-gloss—cherry candy red—back into my clutch, then look at my reflection in the mirror.
I frown, even though I know I look good. My strawberry blonde hair is full of body and blown out to maximize volume. It glistens with glitter thanks to the spray I put in it, and I love the effect it gives. Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t wear it everywhere, but here at Swank—the hottest nightclub in Cincinnati, it fits. Besides, I know I can carry off about anything. Sure, I’m curvier than my sister, Thea, but I fucking rock my curves.
Don’t get me wrong. My sister is gorgeous with a capital G. She’s so pretty that she got a modeling contract despite the fact that walking a runway is almost impossible for her because of her bad leg. I’m totally different from her. I’m so different, that to look at us, I doubt you would think we were sisters. She takes after my dad, bronze skin, full, curly hair that falls to her mid back and slim and shapely.
I’m her complete opposite. My skin is pale, almost to the point of being too white. The stark contrast from my sister made me ask Mom if my dad was my actual dad or if she cheated. It was a shitty question to ask. I know that, but I’m just the type to ask what I’m thinking. I kind of don’t have a filter. You need to take me as I am, mostly because I never plan on changing for anyone. My hair is another difference from my sister. Mine is short and soft. It also wants to be red like my mother’s. Thanks to my monthly visits to one of the best hairdressers in Ohio, it’s more strawberry blonde and full of waves, not curls. That is, unless I straighten it. I cut it in a choppy bob that I love. It gives me freedom to do whatever I want and doesn’t weigh me down in the heat of summer at the same time.
I stand back and admire my body. I have on my brand-new LBD—little black dress. Incidentally, they do not lie when they say every girl should have one in their closet. They definitely should. I’m not sure you should spend the seven hundred bucks that this one cost me, however. Luckily, Daddy gives me a budget and I stay within it. It’s not my fault if he spoils me rotten and my budget is more than enough to buy whatever I want. Honestly, Mom kind of gives me what I want, too. That’s what happens when you’re the baby of the family, I suppose.
Still, if Daddy could see me in this dress right now, he’d have a cow. I would either be dead or grounded for life. That thought makes me giggle. The dress comes down to my mid-thigh. It’s tight and hugs my hourglass figure. The silky material makes it appear that I was poured into it. There’s not a curve that’s not outlined and the way it puts my breasts on display is probably indecent. I look down at my double d’s with a smirk.