Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
People were packed in like sardines, making it a struggle to get through, but she relished the contact. It seemed like the only time she got touched was when she was out here and surrounded by strangers. She always managed to convince herself that she didn’t need it, but then she’d slip her cage and prove herself a liar on the dance floor. The truth was she was well and truly skin-starved.
It was enough to make her do truly foolish things.
They found Keira first, her arms above her head, her eyes closed as her hips moved to the grinding beat. There were no less than three men around her, circling like sharks. Carrigan cut through them and wrapped her arms around her, laughing as she pulled her away from them. She glanced over to where Callie had found her other sister and towed her to safety as well.
Carrigan let go of Keira and crossed to Sloan. She leaned in close because she wanted her sister to actually hear. “Are you okay?”
“Mostly.”
She might actually be okay, or she might be saying the right words so as not to make waves. Carrigan leaned back and looked her over. She was a little pale and her eyes were a little wide, but she wasn’t searching for the exits. “If you want to leave, just tell me. I’ll make sure you get in a cab safely.”
“I’m fine. Go dance. You need this more than I do.”
The truth was a bitter pill stuck in her throat. She did need this, and she was just selfish enough to drag her sisters and Callie into it in order to justify coming here. Actually, selfish didn’t begin to cover it, but she wasn’t going to apologize. For all the love her siblings bore her, there was no one in this world who’d put her happiness and emotional needs above all others. That was her responsibility and hers alone. If she had to be a selfish bitch to meet those needs, so be it.
She checked on Keira and Callie, but they were fine, both dancing with grins on their faces. So her brother’s fiancée could let loose. Good. She’d seen Callie’s face when she talked about Teague. The woman was over the moon for her brother, and as happy as that made her, she couldn’t kill the little sprout of jealousy that rose. Teague would finally get his happiness, and he would finally stop trying to take his sisters away and save them from this life. It had been a vain hope in the first place, but she still mourned its death. But it just reinforced her belief that no one would take care of her except her.
“I’ll be right back.” She didn’t wait for Sloan’s response before slipping through the crowd, taking her time working her way to the bar on this level, pausing to dance with this man and that and then moving away before they realized she was leaving.
The bar itself was nothing fancy—a counter of faded wood that kept the masses from getting to the wall of liquor on the other side—but it fit the club itself perfectly. She leaned over, trying to catch the bartender’s eye, dipping down a little more than necessary to flash him a generous slice of cleavage.
“Good luck. I’ve been waiting for fucking ages.”
She glanced over and froze, her breath stalling in her lungs. The man who spoke was big enough to give even her brothers pause, and had an air about him that promised more danger than she could possibly handle. It wasn’t his plain white T-shirt or faded jeans that gave that impression, and even his short, scruffy beard and long blond hair wouldn’t make her give him a second look. No, it was blazingly apparent in every line of his body, in the way he held himself as if ready for a fight to break out at any second, and the way his cold blue eyes searched the room for a threat before finally landing on her again, making her treacherous heart skip a beat.
This man was danger personified.
And she wanted him.
Carrigan leaned against the bar, taking her time looking her fill. The stranger sure knew how to fill out a shirt, and the clean-cut clothing only accented his rugged looks. He would be perfectly at home on a Harley if she had to guess. A biker. Her mouth practically watered at the thought. She leaned into him under the pretense of wanting to speak, taking the opportunity to run her hand up his chest. Yeah, he was more cut than a damn diamond. “Hey there.”
He moved back enough to search her face. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found, because he closed the distance, his short beard scraping against her cheek as his lips brushed her ear. “You look too classy for this joint.”