Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to, but there was so much going on in my head. Things I needed to work through,” I finally say as I try to tear my attention away from his masculinity and focus on something other than how I’d love for him to bend me over the counter. He can never know the real reason I stayed. And he can’t learn the truth about who I am.
“Things happen,” he tells me in his thick Irish brogue. “As long as ye know ye’re happy, then that’s all that matters. Ye’ve been through more than anyone should. At least that’s what I picked up from our time in there.” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice, and I wonder if he’s upset I didn’t call.
“I was afraid to use your number in case… I felt something I wanted to run from, Sully,” I admit, causing him to lift his head, and those dark orbs pierce a hole right through me. And as much as I want to look away, as much as I know I should look away, I can’t.
“Aye?”
The thick accent sends warmth washing over me as if he were covering me in his protection. But it’s stupid to even consider myself wanting him. I came here to escape men. But the way Sully is looking at me has me pondering a whole different scenario. One I’m not at all ready for.
“Fear stops us from doing things that could be good for us.” I nod as I pour us both another shot because he needs it, and frankly, so do I. Before I can second-guess myself, I settle in beside Sully and watch as he swallows his drink and pours another. Then, he lifts his glass toward me and smiles, and I wasn’t ready for it. There’s nothing on this God’s green earth that could have prepared me for just how breathtaking this man is.
“Fear is the devil’s work,” he spits with venom lacing those words. We clink our glasses and I swallow back mine in one long gulp. Sully’s gaze bores into me as he watches me. And when I look at him again, he’s chuckling. “Look at ye,” he says, pouring us both another shot each. “Ye tryin’ ta get me drunk?”
“Not at all,” I respond easily as we continue our shot-taking. This is asking for trouble, but I find I’m having fun. For the first time in a long while, I’m alone with a guy and I am at ease. Perhaps it’s the whiskey. Maybe it’s not, but I don’t dwell too much on it. “So, why haven’t I seen you in here before?”
“I’m… I don’t drink like I used to. It’s just not who I am anymore. I spend my time at the club, and that’s where I stay. My flat, a couple of blocks away, is my sanctuary. In this line of work, I need the solace more than you can imagine.”
Curiosity wins out, and I find myself wanting to know more about this man. He’s still a stranger to me, and I have to change that if I’m going to put my plan into action.
“Why is that?”
I remember how he told me about his past, about his mom, but he never spoke of his work. At the time, I was sure it was because he didn’t want to scare me off.
He glances sideways at me, the corner of his mouth tilting into a smirk.
“The mind plays tricks on ye when ye’ve seen what I have, Lucky,” he confesses easily. When Sully sets down his glass after what I think is our ninth or tenth shot of neat whiskey, his eyes burn through me, far stronger than the alcohol currently swirling in my stomach. “And the word around the city is that I’m trouble.”
“I don’t like trouble,” I whisper, finding I’ve lost my fight when he leans in closer, his lips feathering along mine. The scent of Jameson on his breath, mixed with his masculine cologne, only seems to incite need inside me.
“What if I told ye I was the good kinda trouble?”
A laugh escapes me in that second because words fail me. And then his mouth captures mine. His tongue licks at my lips, and I allow him entrance. The sheer dominance of his hand tangling in my hair at the back of my neck as he draws me closer has me whimpering.
When my lashes flutter and my eyes close, I give myself ten long, beautiful seconds kissing this rough, rugged Adonis before I push at his chest.
“I can’t.”
He tips his head to the side, his hold still in my hair as his fingers tangle in the locks.
“Why?”
My mouth opens, and I want to say something that would scare him off. I should tell him who I really am and why I’m really here. Perhaps he already knows and doesn’t care. He knows my name, remembers the girl from rehab, but I’ve changed. And he’ll have no idea what he’s getting into bed with.