Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“You and me, both.”
Hunter pushes away from the pillar, the move instantly closing the space between us. He towers over me, and my stomach flutters. I knew he was tall and built, but I was kneeling on top of my bar, and it’s hard to tell just how tall someone is from up there, but now with both feet planted on the ground, there’s no mistaking it. This man is a beast. He must be at least 6’4” and built of solid muscle, the black fabric of his shirt straining around his strong frame.
There’s no other way to describe him other than mouthwatering.
Hunter drops his hand lower on my back as he leads me out of Black Velvet, and with every step I take, I become completely intoxicated by that woodsy scent. It’s expensive cologne mixed with something darker, something intriguing. I can’t put my finger on it, but whatever it is, I can’t wait to spend my night breathing it in.
The line outside the club stretches halfway down the block, full of people desperate to get into Black Velvet. Women teeter in heels, probably clutching fake IDs, while drunk college guys desperately try to pick them up. None of them stands a chance of actually getting in. Even if we weren’t at capacity, my bouncers can spot an underage girl or a fake ID a mile away. They just really enjoy making them stand there all night waiting for entry.
Hunter guides me through the crowd like he owns the damn sidewalk . . . like he owns me, and I won’t lie, I like it. There’s a dominance about the way he touches me, and it has my heart pounding with excitement.
As we walk further out of Black Velvet, I notice the exact moment my bouncers see me, and as they take in Hunter’s hand low on my back, they both stiffen.
“Boss,” Marcus says, eyeing Hunter like he’s a disease that needs to be extracted. “Everything good?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Both Marcus and Dean have been particularly protective over the past few months since there’ve been so many reports of a serial killer on the loose. “I’m fine. Having a night out for a change. Don’t wait up for me.”
Hunter’s hand flexes on my back, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s the realization that I’m the boss, or if it has a little something to do with the waves of judgment coming from Marcus and Dean.
Marcus and Dean don’t miss the subtle flex, but they’re more perceptive than most. That’s why I love them. They’ve saved me and my bar staff from unwelcome hands more times than I can count, and for that, I will forever be grateful.
“Give him a break,” I say, leaning slightly closer to Hunter, trying to put my bouncers at ease. “He’s not an axe-wielding murderer. We’re just going for a drink, and then I’m going straight home.”
Marcus narrows his eyes, watching Hunter like a hawk, while Dean just smirks, finally seeing this for what it is—a wild hookup that I fully intend to enjoy.
“Ahhhhh, I see,” Dean says, his eyes sparkling with realization. “Have fun.”
There’s no resisting a good eye-roll now. “Oh, I will,” I remind them. “Don’t wait up. I’m abandoning all responsibilities tonight.”
Dean snorts. “Again?”
“Please. I’m an excellent boss.”
“You threatened to staple my hand to the bar two hours ago.”
“You were openly gawking at Danielle’s ass. She was so nervous that she dropped a full tray of espresso martinis,” I remind him. “You do realize that instead of awkwardly looking at each other like lost puppies every night, you could . . . oh, I don’t know, ask her out!”
Dean blanches while Marcus shakes his head, getting back to work and focusing on the long line of people wanting to get into my bar.
“I’ll let you stew on that,” I tell Dean, stepping closer into Hunter’s side, a silent message that we can get going. However, as we make our way down the sidewalk, he huffs beside me, the sound suspiciously close to a laugh, and I pause.
I glance up at him, my brow arched. “You laugh?”
Hunter smirks and shakes his head in amusement, and once again, my heart rate picks up. “Occasionally.”
“Wow. I feel special.”
His grip tightens around my lower back, pulling me in closer until my chest is pressed right up against his. Then he takes my chin between his first finger and thumb and lifts. I suck in a breath, unsure why I’m suddenly flooded by nerves. “You shouldn’t.”
What is it about this guy? His deadpan delivery makes me grin, and as I’m trying to work out a smart response, his gaze slowly shifts back to Marcus and Dean. Dean’s attention is still fully on us, a deep suspicion in his stare.
“What’s the deal here?” Hunter asks. “Am I cutting someone’s turf by taking you out?”