Cash (Sexy Bastard #2) Read Online Free PDF

so hard you’ll be grateful for
asking.”
    I’m not sure if it’s the
alcohol or my hormones finally kicking in, but I’m halfway to
saying yes before my brain kicks in.
    I sigh. “Like I said last night,
I want something more than a fuck and run.”
    He looks at me again, that charming
smile looking hotter, more intense. Like he’s stripping me
naked with his eyes. I shiver. If he touches me, I’ll give in.
What would be so wrong with a quickie, especially if I’m in the
hands of a master? Tomorrow we could both pretend it never happened.
Right?
    He gently brushes the inside of my
wrist, which is still damp from where I licked it. The feel of his
fingertips on my body shoots a very sexy signal straight down to my
center. I lean in, my skin prickling with anticipation. I can see his
eyes on my lips, drifting lower…
    Then he pulls away. Dammit.
“Customers,” he gestures vaguely, and even though there’s
nobody waiting at the bar, I take it as a sign. Off limits. Never
going to happen.
    I shake my head to clear the dirty
thoughts away and stand, which is remarkably more difficult than it
should be. “I should go.”
    “Take care,” he says, and
he’s got that right: but I’m going to be the one taking
care of myself tonight.

 

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Cash
     
    Thursday night, we close the bar.
Private business only. We have three other spots around the city, so
one night off the clock isn’t going to break the bank. Besides,
we’ve got plans to discuss: location number five, our most
ambitious project yet.
    Katie offered to come over after her
late class for a ‘study session’, but I’d put her
off. There’s nothing like working out a few kinks with a
friend. And trust me, Katie and I have worked through plenty. Her
O-Chem homework, my latest cocktail mix, but I’m not sure even
the lure of the Katie’s smooth thighs clenched around my head
can tempt me tonight.
    Maybe I’m losing it.
    Nah. It’s just the new bar.
Things get hectic, and we all work ourselves to the bone before a big
opening. I’m surprised Cassie hasn’t invaded and forced
us all to take a break. It may be the night off for our employees,
but until The Library opens, it’s all hands on deck.
    Tables have been pushed together, and
the plans for The Library have been spread out, waiting for us to
make them perfect.
    Located in Virginia Highland, we’re
going to take The Library to a new level. If Altitude was about going
back to our roots — Atlanta in all her glory
through the years—The Library is intended to be a throwback to
old-fashioned clubs. Lots of hardwoods, luxurious fabrics, and nooks
with grouped seating, but still plenty of what our customers have
come to expect from our clubs: a real fucking good time.
    “Pizza’s
on its way,” Parker says, taking a seat at the bar across from
me. He’s as casual as he ever gets in a button up and slacks.
It’s just one more reason why I’m glad I never followed
my father into the investment world. I like jeans too much.
    “The drinks are almost ready,”
I say, loading up the bar with several tumblers. I’ve been
working on the new cocktail list. We’ll always have the
staples, but we’ve got to give the crowd something new,
something they can only get at The Library. Tonight’s all
business: Jackson’s going over the
final renovations and set up, and I’ve got a new line of
drinks.
    I’ve been going old school on
the cocktail menu: whiskey and bourbon. It’s something I always
associate with books and writers. Sure, the whole concept is based
around a library, but naming drinks after book titles or literary
people seems too logical, too obvious, too expected.
    “What’s on the menu?”
Parker asks, picking up the card, I’ve been using to work out
the recipes.
    “351.3—The Librarian.”
    “I hope she’s hot.”
    “She is well stacked,” I
joke. Parker laughs,
    “My first crush was a librarian,
she had the whole sexy good girl thing going on. We should get