Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Carly herself has helped her dad simmer his shit down, but I doubt we’ll be getting a holiday card from him this year. Or ever.
I’ll put in my year at Bridger Ranch like the will says, get my billion, and get the hell out of Dodge. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy taking out my new ride. At least until it gets cold, which I expect will be sooner than I want.
The music through the hidden speakers changes, and a bunch of screams and hollers have me swiveling on my stool. A group of ladies, clearly having a good time, are partying around two high-tops farther down the bar. They’re dressed to go out, which in Montana means jeans, flirty skirts, or dresses with cowboy boots. No stilettos or sequins like I’d see in New York City. No black leather. Hell, I’m the only one wearing that.
One woman has a tiara on her head and a white feathered boa around her neck. A beauty-pageant-style sash is slung over her shoulder and it reads “Soon to be Mrs.”
My gaze isn’t snagged on the lead bachelorette, but another woman in the group. Why? Because she has her dark eyes on me. I’m not sure she even hears the twang of the country music or sees the dancing and arm waving of her friends. All her attention is squarely on me.
Yeah, me.
I raise my brow because if she wants to stare, I don’t mind staring right back. She’s not hard on the eyes. Far from it. I’d even call her fucking gorgeous. She wears a black tiered miniskirt that flares and hits halfway to her knees. Her top is a plain T-shirt with a deep V that does amazing things to her tits. She’s taller than average, and she has meat on her bones. Thick and curvy. A lush body a guy can grip and hang on to. My fingers itch to learn every inch of her.
I’m single, but I’m not a monk. I know when a woman is interested. I can flirt, but I don’t like games. Don’t like circling. The dance between a man and a woman. I want chemistry. A connection. With those two things, flirting isn’t necessary.
With this woman, there’s fucking chemistry. I can tell she feels it too because she’s now heading my way. The corner of her full mouth turns up as she sways toward me. I don’t look away, not even when the bartender sets my burger on the bar.
Tonight is getting better and better. A good ride on a motorcycle and maybe—most likely—a good ride with a hot woman.
“Hi,” she says.
Her voice is deep and husky. Up close, her dark hair is almost black and brushes her shoulders. It’s straight and sleek, shiny like the chrome on my custom bikes. She wears makeup, but only a little. She doesn’t need fake eyelashes or weird shit done to her eyebrows. She’s natural looking, but not like she just came off a weeklong camping trip.
Clearly a woman who wants to look pretty for herself. Not to try to snare a man.
“Hi.” I set my feet on the floor and spread my legs so she stands within mine.
She takes the opportunity to step in closer, and I set a hand on her waist. Yeah, all soft curves.
Her lips are full and covered in shiny gloss. Fucking kissable.
She smiles. “I’m Sadie, and I wonder if you can do me a favor.”
Hmm… A favor? If it involves those more-than-a-handful tits or any other square inch of her, I’m happy to help.
“Sure.”
There is no other answer.
“I’m here with a bachelorette party, which I’m sure is pretty obvious.” She thumbs over her shoulder toward the ladies who are making more noise than the rest of the patrons combined.
I offer a nod.
The music changes again and a few people move to the dance floor.
“Part of the fun is to do a dare,” she continues.
“A dare?”
She shakes her head, her sleek hair moving like a waterfall over her shoulder. I can’t resist brushing the strands back. Yeah, silky soft.
I watch her throat work as she swallows.
“Yeah, I’ve got to give my panties to a guy.”
My eyes meet hers. My dick jerks against my jeans, and I can’t help but smile.
“I’ll take your panties, sweetheart, but how will they know the dare’s been done? I doubt you’re going to take them off right here for others to see.”
I glance around and then back to her.
Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. Embarrassed now? She was brave enough to come up to a stranger and ask for a favor that involves her panties.
“You have to bring them to the group,” she adds.
I slide my thumb back and forth over her waist.
“That’s it?”
She nods. “That’s it.”
I give her a grin. “So you’ll go to the ladies’ room to take them off…or am I supposed to help you out of them?”