Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
One of the bikers starts coughing like he just choked on his beer. He’s tall and built, with unruly auburn hair a few shades darker than my own. A small silver barbell cuts through his eyebrow and solid black bands are tattooed around his biceps and forearms.
The other pounds him on his back. “Excuse me?”
“The costumes? The AC must be fighting for its life because I’m dying in all this leather.” I blink up into a pair of sky blue eyes. What does he look like out of costume? Because dressed up like this looks good on him. He has short dark blond hair and a full beard. His arms are covered in a motley patchwork of ink, and it stretches all the way up onto his neck. No way that’s makeup.
“Is it too late or can I get a picture with the three of you?” a girl in a sparkly dress asks.
“It’s no problem.” I climb onto a bar stool between them, and get up on my knees so I can be tall enough to rest an arm on each of their shoulders. They must be extras because they sure don’t seem to know how to pose. “Put your arms around my waist, guys. For the camera.”
I give her a sassy grin and raise one hand, throwing devil horns with my pinkie and index fingers raised. The one picture turns into two, turns into another mini-photoshoot when people notice what we’re doing. The whole time, I can feel the heat of their arms behind me, and where their hands are wrapped tight at my waist. It holds me steady and for once tonight the extra warmth isn’t a bad thing.
Finally it seems like the fans have gotten their fill, and go looking for other stars to take pictures of.
“Does that happen a lot?” the biker with the dark red hair asks. “Must be a pain in the ass.”
“Nah, tonight is kind of special since it was advertised, you know? It’s not like I’m famous or anything. I’m Quinn, by the way. I know you probably know that, but it feels kind of weird to just assume.”
“Colt,” the redhead says, holding out his hand. His fingers wrap firmly around mine, but he doesn’t pull any macho, hand squishing BS.
The blond smiles. Under the beard I bet there’s at least one dimple. “Sinner.”
“Really sticking to the biker theme, huh?”
“Sure, what’s it called? Method acting?” Sinner grins at his buddy.
Colt snorts.
He has nice lips. Relationships are a distraction I can’t afford, but I’m not immune to the lure of occasionally getting cozy in a dark corner with a sexy extra. Sex is overrated, if you ask me, but kissing… Kissing deserves more attention. You can tell a lot about a person by how they kiss.
“Do you guys want to dance?” I could claim my bravery is from the half a beer I’ve had tonight, but it’s really just because right now, I’m not Quinn flirting with sexy strangers. I’m Desdemona, asking a couple of co-workers to play the part for the length of a song or two.
“Absolutely. Let’s go, Demon.” Sinner holds out his hand and pulls me to the dance floor.
Behind me, Colt follows, closing me in between them like a solid wall of man. “Priest is gonna flip his shit.”
“Yeah, well, he should’ve thought of that before being late,” Sinner responds.
“Who’s Priest?”
Colt smirks. “A friend.”
“Was he supposed to be working tonight, too?” I let out a little gasp when Colt’s arm comes around me from behind and the three of us start moving together to the music. This is the first time I’m getting cozy with two extras at once, and it’s kind of fun.
One song turns into two. Two turns into four. Sometimes it’s Colt behind me and Sinner in front, sometimes they switch, passing me easily between them. At some point the heat gets to be too much and my jacket comes off. By the time Colt’s hands are on my hips and Sinner’s fingers are ghosting my bare shoulder, my eyes have drifted shut and I’ve forgotten that this is work, and not play.
“Can’t leave you fuckers alone for a minute, can I?” a gravelly voice asks with a sly hint of humor.
My eyes open to another biker, dressed to match Sinner and Colt. “Hi! You must be Priest.”
Surprise flashes across his face, then warm brown eyes slide down my body before working their way back up. “My reputation precedes me. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be quite so… welcoming.” He says it like he’d heard I was difficult to work with or something.
“What do you mean?” My body stops moving to the music and slowly Colt and Sinner pull away.
“She thinks we’re extras,” Colt says.
Priest cocks his head. “And you just went along with it?”