Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Who is this woman who’s taken over my body? Because it certainly isn’t Alissa Maravilla.
The straight-edged Alissa—the Alissa who quit a promising flute career for the more stable career of nursing—would have cut herself off after two drinks maximum, would be much more reserved in her flirtation, if she flirted at all.
Perhaps it’s my peculiar surroundings, or perhaps it’s the charming, mysterious man across the table from me.
More than likely it’s the nearly four drinks I’ve had tonight. Twice my normal limit.
My gin and tonic is already half spent.
“I’m sorry about that,” I say. “I just realized what I may have accidentally implied when I said that.”
Maddox smiles. “I read nothing into it, Alissa. I’d love to join you for a drink at your place after we’re done here. However”—he checks his watch, a Michael Kors in glimmering silvers and golds—“it’s getting kind of late.”
I cock my head. “Is it?”
He nods. “Nearly ten. Traffic won’t be too terrible along Lake Shore Drive at this hour, but it’ll likely be close to half past the hour by the time we arrive, and that’s if we head out right now.” He eyes my half-full glass. “You’re not quite finished with your drink yet.”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath in. Three and a half drinks is a lot for me. When I was back in school, I could party with the best of them. Three shots of Fireball was the beginning of my night. Now that I’m approaching my thirties, my tolerance has gone to shit. I can barely keep my eyes open if I have a glass of red wine while watching TV at home.
Though Maddox has energized me something fierce. An electric current has been surging through me from the moment our hands touched. His touch wired me from my fingertips directly to my heart, which pumped it all through my body, landing most powerfully between my legs.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to finish that last drink, Maddox.” I sigh. “If I do, I’ll simply melt into a puddle and you’ll have to carry me home in a bucket.”
He chuckles. “That can be arranged.”
My cheeks warm. There is nothing sexy about the idea of being brought home in a bucket, but—damn!—Maddox Hathaway could charm a nun out of her habit with his silver tongue.
I frown. “I hate to see a perfectly good gin and tonic go to waste.”
He smirks. “No problem there. May I?” He reaches for my glass.
“By all means.”
He brings the glass to his lips and pours it down his throat. Something sexy about a man who enjoys a cocktail.
All the men I’ve dated in the past have been beer drinkers.
Not that I don’t enjoy beer. I’m from the UK, after all. I can put down a pint anytime, especially if it’s with a burger or pizza.
But Maddox has such a refinement about him. I’m sure he has a beer every now and then, and there’s nothing wrong with that if he does, but he clearly has a taste for the finer things. This club, he told me, only uses top-shelf liquor in its drinks, and watching him relish every drop of my half-finished drink is almost…sensual.
Yes, sensual. The way his lips wrap around the rim, the way his breath fogs up the glass’s interior, even the way the ice cubes bump up against his stubbly lower lip.
In this moment, I’m jealous of a bloody glass.
Good God, I have it bad for this man.
He finishes the drink and sets the glass down on the table almost wildly, like a Viking throwing a stein onto the dirt floor of a tavern after quenching his thirst on a pint of mead. His eyes are fiery, lusty, as he looks me up and down.
“Ready to go?”
I almost wince at his words. His voice has changed. The words came out almost on a growl.
And my God, the rumble of his baritone sends goosebumps all over my body.
I swallow. “I’ll just run to the ladies’ room and powder my nose real quick.”
He smiles and leans back in his chair. “Take your time. The ladies’ room is by the Hearts section, near the door for Bianca’s dressing room.”
“Thank you. Be back in a second.”
He grins. “I’ll count on that, Alissa.”
I get to my feet, using the backside of my chair as support. Standing drunk is a lot different from sitting drunk, but so far I feel okay. Definitely buzzed.
I walk through the club, around couples in locked arms on the dance floor, a few of them making out like teenagers. Normally, I’d be a bit annoyed by such a display of public affection, but in this moment, all I can think of is being in Maddox’s arms, swaying with him, tangling my tongue with his to Bianca’s sultry tunes. Maybe we can slate the public make-out session into our second date.