Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“What was that?” I ask in amusement.
He swallows and becomes intelligible. “I said, ‘try the cheese balls.’ They’re fucking excellent.”
“Thank you!” comes a pleased female voice. One of the blondes touches Judd’s shoulder. “I prepared these myself.”
Judd peers up at her, grinning lewdly. “A woman who knows how to handle balls. I dig it.”
I expect her to be horrified, but she just winks and moves down the line to take care of Ahmad. I guess this company has catered enough college events that they’re used to horny frat boys saying inappropriate things.
Judd leans closer to me and murmurs, “You got this in the bag, bro. This dinner’s lame.”
And yet at the head of the table, Luke Bailey is completely unbothered, or maybe he’s just oblivious to our reactions. Not just mine and Judd’s, but everyone’s. Even his own campaign manager, Jako, sports a look of bewilderment, as if he can’t understand why Luke chose a fancy boys-only dinner for the Dance-off.
The hot waitresses clear away our apps, refill our wine glasses, and the next course comes out: a peach and avocado salad that is damn tasty. After that is the entrée, filet mignon au poivre, with scalloped potatoes and French beans. There’s even a vegetable plate for Munsen, who doesn’t eat meat. I don’t miss the way the brothers devour everything.
For the first time all evening, a sliver of worry pierces my gut. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach… Fuck, that phrase is a phrase for a reason. Men like food. Men like being fed. Men especially like being fed by hot, big-breasted women.
There isn’t a cup size lower than C in the room. And the servers seem to have no qualms about waving their boobs in our faces.
“Let me top that off for you,” one of them coos as she practically drapes herself over Paxton Grier’s broad shoulder.
Her left tit is legit pressing against his cheek as she pours the sparkling liquid into his wineglass. His tongue practically rolls out of his mouth and falls onto his half-eaten steak.
Narrowing my eyes, I glance at Luke again. He’s deep in conversation with Tanner. Which isn’t a sight I like to see. Tanner is solidly in my corner. He’s my closest friend in the house after Judd. There’s no way in hell he’s allowed to vote for Bailey.
I mentally will their conversation to end, but I fail. Tanner throws his head back and laughs at something Luke just said. Goddammit. I’m losing Tanner. And then one of those hot temptresses rests a hand on Judd’s shoulder and leans down to whisper something in his ear, and suddenly I fear for Judd’s soul as well.
By the time our entrée dishes are carted off to the kitchen, the back of my neck feels real hot, and my dinner jacket feels too tight. I’m genuinely concerned that Bailey is winning everyone over. Dinner was amazing, I can’t deny that. And I certainly can’t deny that all the eye candy in the room is a stroke of genius.
I need this evening to be over before Bailey scores any more points. We just finished the main dish, so I’m assuming there’ll be dessert now, and then I’ll be done with this shit.
Except Luke Bailey has other ideas.
After the last dish is whisked away, he clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“Gentlemen,” he says when the room goes quiet. “If you’ll please indulge me and pick up your glasses.”
Judd rolls his eyes at me. I roll mine in return. Guess it’s time for the big speech nobody gives a shit to hear?
But we humor the guy. Everyone takes a glass in hand, waiting.
The toast I’m expecting doesn’t come.
“Um, you gonna say something?” Judd mocks.
“Nah,” drawls Luke.
“You’re not making a toast?” grumbles Owen.
“Nope.”
“Then why the fuck are we all holding our glasses?” Tim demands.
“Oh, I wasn’t clear about that, sorry. I just wanted you to pick up your wine glasses so there’s room on the table.” His gaze shifts briefly to a point behind Tim’s head.
“Room for what?” Ahmad asks in confusion.
I glance over my shoulder to follow Luke’s gaze. One of the waitresses, a tall redhead, is bending over a laptop near the entertainment center. Suspicion surges in my blood at the same moment a blast of music rocks the house.
“The entertainment,” Luke shouts to Ahmad. His cocky gaze sweeps over the rest of us. “Time for the fun part, boys. You can look, but you can’t touch.”
That sneaky motherfucker—
Before I can blink, three of the women have hopped up onto the tables, strutting on the white tablecloth in their high heels. A sultry beat thumps in the room, shaking the walls, vibrating in the floor. When the song offers a sharp crash of cymbal, one of the chicks rips open her white dress shirt, revealing the sexy red bra underneath. It barely contains her tits, which are spilling over the lacy cups.