Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Besides, I’m horribly single, and it has been a very long time since I’ve allowed myself to speak to a man.
Pathetic as that is.
I have drowned myself in work and allowed no time for anything else.
“I do,” he replies, slowly leaning on the bar beside me, tipping his head to the side, “I’m Colt.”
“Of course you are.”
I say it out loud, but honestly, of course he has a name like Colt. It would be far less attractive if he came out telling me his name was Greg.
A slow smirk spreads across his lips. “You goin’ to tell me your name?”
“Well, it certainly isn’t as sexy as Colt. I’m Chloe.”
His eyes drag over my lips. I’ve never felt so ... seen. It’s like he can read me even before I open my mouth. This perfect stranger has the ability to just stare into me as if I’m an open book.
“Pleased to meet you, Chloe. Can I buy you a drink?”
I cross my arms, swiveling in my stool. “Are bikers always so polite or is this some sort of trick? And before you answer, know I’m great at reading a liar.”
His eyes flash, as if he’s impressed with my responses.
“I’m only polite to girls I want to fuck.”
And there it is.
I’m both shocked and impressed. He didn’t miss a beat when he answered, not at all concerned about his response. He’s being honest, just like I asked him to, and while I should be horrified by his answer, I’m not. I can’t help but lick my bottom lip when I say, “I’ll take a vodka tonic.”
His grin is triumphant.
He waves a hand, and the bartender comes over immediately. Colt places an order then sits on the stool beside me.
“Just so you know, I might accept your flattery and drinks, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be under you tonight,” I point out with a grin.
He takes a long slow sip of his straight whiskey on ice. “We’ll see.”
I snort. “I could be married, for all you know.”
“You think that would be enough to stop me? One night with me, you’d leave your husband.”
Is it hot in here?
It feels hot in here.
This man has a confidence that is hard to knock.
“Well, I don’t have a husband, but your confidence is impressive. What makes you think you’re so good?”
He leans in close, the smell of alcohol on his breath, and murmurs, “Women scream my name not because they have to, but because they want to. They come back not because they have to, but because they want to. They beg for my cock, not because they have to, but because they want to. That’s how I know I’m good.”
My cheeks burn, and I know they turn red. I bite my bottom lip and whisper, “Well, Colt, I guess I’ll be the judge of that.”
What am I doing?
I’ve never been so forward.
Especially not with a man like this.
Usually I would be turned off and sending him well on his way.
He isn’t the kind of guy you spend too much time with. You know just by looking at him that his life is dangerous. Hell, he has probably killed more than one person in his life. Yet, here I am, panting like a strung-out dog, wanting just one more second with him because he is catching my attention in a way nobody has before. Most men that spoke to me like this would be out the door before they finished their sentence.
“What brings you into town?” Colt asks, as if we weren’t just talking about his cock a second ago.
See, captivating.
“My job.”
“What do you do?”
I take a sip of my drink. It’s strong, but I think I’m going to need strong to get through this night. “I’m in marketing. I have to travel a lot, but an opportunity came up with a company here. They need someone for a few months, and I needed a break, so I took the chance.”
“Are you regrettin’ it?”
I exhale and stare at the chain hanging around his neck. “I was before, but I can’t say that I am right in this moment. Sorry to change the subject, is that a coin on your chain?”
On the gold chain hanging around his neck is the pendant of a coin. It looks like an old coin, faded gold. It has been molded onto a piece of metal that holds it there, and it’s very fascinating. It’s not something you usually see hanging from a necklace. Definitely unusual.
Colt reaches for the coin, his big fingers gliding over it. “My dad got shot. This coin was what I used to dig the bullet out and save his life.”
My eyes widen.
Surely, he’s just making that up?
I shake my head, confused. “I’m scared to ask if that’s a true story.”
“It’s true,” he goes on, the look on his face telling me that he’s not lying, he’s very serious indeed. “We had nothin’ else, and it needed to be removed or he would have died. I took it out of his wallet and used it to dig the bullet out, then we stopped the bleeding. Saved his life. One day, might save mine.”