Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Rule number Definitely don't fall for his best friend.
Rule number If the two ridiculously hot men in your life are keeping dangerous secrets … chances are, you should be too.
What can I say? I've always been a sucker for breaking the rules.
I thought running the hottest bar in town was the most chaotic thing I'd ever do. Then Hunter Cole set his sights on me and proved I hadn't even begun to understand the definition of chaos.
He's seductive, infuriating, and the kind of man who promises a woman the night of her dreams and actually delivers. Unfortunately, he bailed halfway through, so Hunter Cole can now kiss my ass goodbye. The problem? He wants a second chance, and backing down is not a skill he's fond of.
Maddox Blake, on the other hand … He's recklessly charming, a shameless flirt, and a walking red flag who came to my rescue after Hunter left me high and dry, roaring in on his motorcycle like he stole it. One touch was all it took, and I was putty in his hands.
Now I'm caught between two dangerously addictive men, a city gripped by fear, and the growing suspicion that absolutely nobody is telling me the whole truth.
How was I supposed to know one of them was a killer?
Better yet … how was I supposed to know the two men currently turning my life upside down were best friends? I'm in trouble.
Turns out, secrets have a funny way of colliding.
And when they do, somebody's bound to end up dead.
Hopefully … it won't be me
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
LYRA
The dark-haired bad boy meets my stare with a set of bedroom eyes that are wicked enough to land any woman on her knees, and when a smirk stretches across his full lips, I prepare myself, knowing that whatever’s about to fall from his lips is bound to destroy me.
“Let me eat that sweet cunt.”
Well shit. He just had to go and say the magic words.
Hunger swells deep in my chest as I stare back at him, excitement thrumming through me. I arch a brow, waiting for him to chicken out. “Right now?” I call over the loud thumping music.
He nods, that attractive confidence stirring up something wild inside me. “Right here. Right now, baby.”
I glance around the full bar, gesturing toward the hundreds of people crammed in around us before leaning closer to him. “You sure you can handle it? Because I’m not climbing over this bar only to have you bitch out at the last second.”
He reaches for me, grasping my chin in his big, warm hand. “Do I look like the kind of man who’s about to bitch out?” He scoffs as though the mere thought offends him. “Now, climb that ass over this goddamn bar, spread those pretty thighs, and let me eat that sweet cunt.”
God! If only . . .
“Alright. You asked for it,” I say with a shrug, pouring out a quick shot before climbing over the bar. My entire body vibrates with giddy excitement.
I can’t lie, this is always my favorite part of the night.
Settling myself in front of this delicious stranger as his friends hover around, eagerly watching my performance, I spread my legs and get this show on the road. He steps right into me with a wide grin, his big hands landing high on my thighs, gently squeezing in anticipation.
I hold his stare, my heart thumping wildly. “Are you ready for this?”
A cocky smirk rests on his lips, looking at me as though he’s about to devour me. “Born ready.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. He’s not ready, not even close. I see the nervous flicker deep within his eyes, but he’s standing in front of his friends, trying to pretend like he’s a boss, so I won’t call him on his bullshit. Only if he’s on his best behavior, of course.
“Let’s do this.”
Wasting no time, I reach for the Fireball shot I’d just poured behind the bar and hand it to him. Without a second of hesitation, he lifts it to his lips and throws it back. Barely even a split second passes when his gaze comes back to mine, and the burn from the shot starts working its way down his throat. Only then does my hand rip through the air and smack hard across his handsome face.
His friends holler with laughter, but it’s not over yet. Just as my hand makes its way across his face, I hook it around the back of his neck and yank him hard against my chest. His face lodges between my tits, and I start to shimmy, motorboating him for only a second before finally releasing the sucker and giving him a second to breathe.
The man pulls back just an inch, looks up at me, then blinks. He and his friends whoop and cheer, fist-pumping the air, chanting about being a god.
All I can do is roll my eyes.
Scooching back on the bar, I spin around and drop back to my feet, meeting the eyes of Danielle, one of the other bartenders. She smirks and shakes her head.
Fucking men. They always get a kick out of the stupidest shit.
The Velvet Slap. Otherwise known as The Reality Check. Take your shot of Fireball and immediately get slapped back into reality, all while that sweet cinnamon burns its way down your throat. But cure that burn by motorboating the bartender, and suddenly you’re a hero.
Now that’s my idea of a good night out. What’s not to love?
A man gets to say something insanely crass to a woman at a bar without being publicly executed, and that woman gets to slap the shit out of him. He goes home with a story to brag about, and his friends somehow think he’s a legend and buy more drinks, all while my bar rakes in all the dollars. Sounds like one hell of a win-win to me.
God, I love my bar.
It’s been my world since I bought it two years ago and completely overhauled its ass.
I received an inheritance from a long-lost aunt a few years ago, and instead of buying a home and setting myself up like a responsible adult, I bought a run-down bar and transformed it into Black Velvet.
It came with its challenges, such as legally not being able to have a liquor license until I’d reached my twenty-first birthday, but I figured it out, and now, after working my ass off for this place, Black Velvet has transformed into the most profitable bar in the area. Maybe even in the state.