Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
We set up the tables in silence. Well, silence between us. There wasn’t any such thing as silence inside the club. As I finished changing the incoming party’s name on the digital screen above the table—under Alex’s critical watch, of course—Luke walked over, escorting a group of eight guys dressed more for Burning Man than a night out at a luxury club in the dead of winter.
“Here we are, gentlemen.” Luke grinned as he gestured toward the table. “Alex and Ryder will be taking care of you tonight. Please don’t be shy about letting them know what you need, and I am always available up at the front as well.”
A tall, slim guy wearing a fishnet top and what appeared to be leather chaps covered in feathers eyed me up and down. If I had to guess, I’d put him at around forty, with a dirty blond stubbled jaw and a mop of wild sandy hair almost brushing his shoulders. His skin was deeply tanned as though he’d recently spent some time much farther south than Boston. “Two bottle service boys, huh? How’d we get so lucky?”
While handsome in a funky way, I couldn’t help but think I’d prefer him with darker hair. And maybe a few tattoos like—
Full stop.
Alex. I thought he’d look better if his body were more like Alex’s. What kind of mindfuck was that?
I ran a hand through my damp hair. That was unacceptable—time to get this train back on the tracks. I took the job to show Alex I could do what he did, only better, not to admire his body.
I gave Feathers my most innocent grin. “Well, not sure if you’ll think you’re lucky in a little while. Today’s my first day. Consider me your bottle service virgin,” I said with a wink.
Alex muttered something under his breath.
Grouch.
“Well, this night keeps getting better and better.” Feathers scanned me up and down with a hungry look while the rest of his group filed into the seats around the table. I couldn’t help but play along, knowing how much it would irritate Alex, so I winked.
“What can we get you started with? To drink,” Alex said in a clipped tone when Feathers opened his mouth to no doubt say he wanted my ass served on a gold platter.
Feathers lost all his flirtatious flair when he turned his gaze on Alex, whose jaw looked ready to crack. Interesting.
If I preened a little, who could blame me? Who wouldn’t want to be objectified by a sexy older man?
Feathers threaded his arm through the man’s next to him, who was dressed in the more typical club attire of dark denim and a skintight silver tank top. “We’re celebrating tonight, so let’s start with some Dom. A lot of Dom. And I’d like it delivered by you.” He turned his attention back to me. “Can I lick it off you?”
Silver shirt squeezed Feather’s hip. “You want to celebrate our engagement by licking champagne off the bottle service boy?” He had a slight French accent, and the way he said it— bottle service boy—as though I was only one rung above a cockroach on the ladder of life twisted something in my stomach. I almost frowned but winked again instead.
I glanced at Alex, whose fake smile didn’t show an ounce of annoyance with the way Silver Shirt spoke, but I noticed the tension in his shoulders and the slight narrowing of his eyes. I could read his annoyance like a book with the number of times he’d snarled at me.
Did it happen often? Being looked down on by customers? Did Silver Shirt see us as less because we served the drinks instead of ordering them? If so, what a dick. Little did he know I’d never been on this side before.
I frowned. God, had I ever made a hospitality worker feel that low?
Was that why Alex hated me on sight? No, calling him freeloader was nothing more than a dumb joke. The man had a stick up his ass was all.
“A magnum of Dom coming right up,” I said with as much charm as I could muster. “And there will be glasses for everyone. You gentlemen get settled in, and we’ll be right back with the good stuff.”
“Mmm, can’t wait.” Feathers licked his lower lip as his partner chuckled.
I hustled after Alex as he hurried to the club’s enormous walk-in refrigerator to grab a chilled bottle of the requested champagne. “Hey, is that allowed?”
As he pulled the heavy refrigerator door open, the play of muscles in his shoulders and upper back snagged my attention. For a guy who spent so much of his time studying, Alex was no slouch. Those shoulders would look spectacular as he held himself up while I—someone—powered into him from behind.
He spun to face me, placing his hands on his hips. That, too, accented his strong shoulders and upper arms. I guess carrying heavy bottles did good things to a man’s physique. “Is what allowed?”