Sweet & Rich (Sweet Water #2) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Sweet Water Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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“Wasn’t asking for your attention,” I said, clearing my throat when it cracked slightly. He was so close to me, his warm, very muscled body brushing the side of mine. And sure, the entire bar was crammed in like that, but now that his attention was on me, it made me that much more aware of it.

I slid a ten to bartender once he gave me the water, and I instantly cracked it open and took a few healthy swallows. It’d been ages since I’d been to a club or dancing, and it was hot as hell in here. The water helped, and I sighed happily when I’d drained half the bottle.

“Thirsty?” he asked, his voice like liquid velvet in my ear. Jesus, were those warm chills dancing down my body because he said a single word?

“Why?” I asked. “You going to offer to buy me a drink?”

He tapped my water bottle with a black-gloved hand. “You already have one,” he said, looking down at me. Or at least, I think he was looking down at me. It was hard to tell with the mask. “Anything else I can offer you?”

Wow. The guy was blunt, I’d give him that. I wasn’t used to that kind of directness from the past few dates I’d been on. They were all about the game, the chase, the fake details meant to make me swoon when in reality I could see right through them. It’s what kept me out of the dating scene for a year—too many bad dates with too many fake people.

“I don’t know,” I said, adrenaline crashing through my body. Luna had said tonight was about being other people. And hell, this guy had no clue who I was. We were an hour away from Sweet Water. I could be anyone I wanted tonight. But right now, I just wanted air. “Can you become an AC for a few seconds?” I asked, fanning myself.

“Getting a little hot?” he asked, and damn him, the way he said it made me smile. There was something effortless about his voice, about the way he said things, and it was doused in a whole heap of deep, sexy tenor.

“I am, actually,” I said, waving him off as I pushed away from the bar, heading toward the front doors so I could hopefully catch a little breeze and finish my water before finding my friends again.

A hand gently slid into mine, the leather from the gloves soft and buttery against my skin. I arched a brow at the masked man, but he nodded behind him before leaning down to my ear so I could hear him over the music.

“I know a cooler spot,” he said.

“Is that right, Silver?” I asked, calling him by his mask’s color. He certainly hadn’t offered up a name, not that I had either.

Why did that excite me so damn much?

And why did I find myself keeping hold of his hand, letting him lead me up the stairs, past the VIP balcony and up toward the roof-access door?

He held the door open for me, motioning me forward. I stepped through it, my heels immediately crunching against a graveled rooftop, complete with a lush, well-maintained garden, a scattering of wrought iron patio furniture, and a wide-open unobstructed view of the starry sky. I walked to the edge of the roof, leaning against the brick that came up to my chest, and closed my eyes as the cool breeze met my flushed skin.

“Cool enough for you, kitten?” Silver asked, his voice at my ear, the pet name likely playing on my mask which looked feline.

“It’s all right,” I said, shrugging like this wasn’t the most romantic spot I’d ever been taken to. “Are we allowed to be up here?”

He laughed softly, his voice slightly muffled behind the full mask. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I know the owner. You won’t get in trouble.”

“Who says I’m worried about getting in trouble?” I asked, and I swear I could feel his eyes trailing the length of my body even though I had zero evidence to back that up. It was all I could do not to squirm under the silent appraisal that may or may not be happening.

“You don’t look like a rule breaker,” he said.

“Maybe I am,” I fired back, even though he was absolutely right. Blame it on my strict upbringing, but I’d never broken any rules or stepped over any lines in the history of forever.

“Whatever you say,” he said, taking up a good lean against the brick.

Jesus, even leaning he was so much taller than me, and big. Like muscles for days beneath the fully black clothing he wore, the gloves and outfit only adding to the mystery of his masked features. And I couldn’t help it, I took my time looking at him, trailing my gaze over his muscled chest all the way down to his massive thighs. If I had to guess, I’d say the guy was an athlete, or maybe he was just a gym enthusiast.


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