Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
The next place we stopped was more of a dance club with a slightly younger crowd. Mark ordered two Jack and Cokes and led me to a table near the dance floor. He nearly spilled our drinks, because his eyes were trained on the gyrating dancers and he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.
“Whoops,” he said with a laugh and put my drink in front of me. I sipped mine through the tiny cocktail straw and sulked.
“Is this your usual after-work tour?” I asked, trying to make conversation.
“Yeah, I hit several bars. Then I pick my poison and get busy. That’s what I love about Vegas. I never have to go home alone.” His obvious bragging was more sickening than the first drink he’d bought me. “You see anyone you like, Jamie? Wanna go dance with someone?”
I shook my head, wishing I’d never agreed to go out with him.
“Aw, go on,” he urged, gesturing toward the dance floor with his drink. “Go have some fun. Pick a couple of young ladies to bring back to the table.”
And there it was. The reason I was here. Mark wanted me to pick up young girls for him.
Fuck. This is not good.
Three more drinks, and I was almost drunk enough to be Mark’s ho-bagger. I was watching the dance floor with some interest when I noticed a couple cutting it up near the center of the dancers.
The guy was built, really good-looking, and his female dance partner was riding his back like he was a bucking bronco, her short sun dress barely covering her ass. She wore flesh-colored strappy sandals, and her ankles were hooked around his waist. I had to give them an A for originality.
The fact that the bucking bronco was none other than Michael Kage was just the icing on the cake of my night. I shook my head to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
But as I watched, it became ever clearer that it was indeed my client— or was he my boss?— giving that girl a rodeo ride.
“Oh, Jesus,” Mark groaned when he spotted them. “I heard he was dating her again. Who the fuck do I have to blow to get a girl like that?”
I turned my head drunkenly toward Mark and squinted. “Maybe that’s your problem. Blowing someone usually gets you a boyfriend, not a girlfriend.”
Mark ignored my derisive comment. “Do you see this? She’s a goddamn Victoria’s Secret model now.”
“Really?” I gave Kage and his partner another look. “That’s impressive. Way to go, Kage.”
“You haven’t met her already?” Mark’s tone was oddly accusing, and I drew back.
“No. What’s her name?”
“Vanessa Hale,” he breathed reverently. “You’ve never seen her in the catalogs?”
“Uh, I’m afraid I don’t subscribe. Though come to think of it my girlfriend has them lying around her dorm room all the time.”
Damn, I’ve gotta quit calling her my girlfriend.
“Well, if you have a pulse I don’t see how you could have missed Vanessa Hale. She’s the hottest thing on the planet.”
I looked again. Kage was smiling so broadly, I was betting there was laughter coming out of that perfect mouth of his. Vanessa’s long brown hair swung across his face as she held onto his thick shoulders.
“She is very pretty,” I admitted. “Beautiful hair.”
Kage’s hair was down, and it mingled with hers as they played on the dance floor. I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched them having so much fun, and here I was sitting with Mark the molester.
Just as the song ended, Kage started galloping toward the edge of the dance floor right in our direction. I wanted to sink into the floor, but instead I sat there like a deer in the headlights as he spotted me.
His step faltered, and the smile fell from his face, leaving a distinct frown in its place. He looked from me to Mark and back again, then bent his knees and allowed Vanessa to slide to the floor. The pair approached our table, her still smiling, him regarding us in a suspicious way that had me wondering if I’d still have a job by morning.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Mark,” he grated, stopping in front of our table. “I see you’ve decided to show my little Gemini the ropes even before his birthday.”
“You remembered my sign,” I said stupidly, noticing that he had a dark half-moon in the soft flesh beneath his left eye.
A black eye on a fighter should not have been shocking, but it was the first time I’d seen anything marring the perfection of Kage’s face. I had the ridiculous urge to reach out and touch it. To ask him if it hurt.
God, I was drunk.
He didn’t even glance at me as he growled at Mark. “I thought I made myself clear when we talked about this in the office. Maybe I need to use plainer language.”