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Wretched (Never After Series)(3)

Author:Emily McIntire

I squint down at the worn black pleather of my heeled boot, my stomach tensing with irritation that I have to spend the rest of the night in this shitty club with parts of a dead man soaking into my foot.

Hope that doesn’t mean he’ll come back to haunt me.

“What’s up, grump?” my best friend—my only friend—Cody asks, grinning wide as he rests on the bar next to me.

I snap my gaze up, bringing my hand to my chest and raising my brows. “I’m not grumpy.”

His blond hair bounces as he throws his head back, a bubbly laugh pouring from his mouth. “You’re one hundred percent a pessimist.”

I glance at the people crowding in behind him for a drink and shrug. “I’m a realist. There’s a difference.”

“Well, you’re being fucking boring.” He rolls his eyes. “This is what you dragged me out for? I thought with that fake hair, you’d loosen up a little. Blondes are supposed to have more fun.”

I grit my teeth, drumming my almond-shaped nails on the wood bar top, the black manicure I gave myself mirroring my mood. The only reason I’m even here in Chicago is because I’ve been tasked with the unfortunate duty of tracking down some nobody idiot who needs to be taught a lesson. The blonde wig glued to my head and colored contacts are just insurance. Not for fun.

“Want a shot?” he tries again, wiggling his brows that are half-hidden by his glasses.

“I don’t drink.”

The words come out harsher than I intended, but I have a headache growing between my eyes and a temper that’s been fraying since this morning when some asshole interrupted me while I was working.

I peek down at the dried blood again.

He frowns. “Since when?”

Sighing, I run a hand over the thick hair, the bleached-blonde strands falling across my shoulder. “Since forever, Cody, I don’t know. Christ, are you planning to give me the tenth degree the entire time? I just wanted to help you get out of your mom’s house.” I shrug. “Live a little instead of spending all your time staring at computer screens.”

He blinks at me.

“Fine,” he finally breathes out. “I’m gonna go dance. Find me a nice fat dick to ride.”

My smile cracks for the first time all night, and he winks. “After you’re done with whatever you really came here for, you should do the same. Maybe a good fuck will make you lose that giant stick up your ass.”

Waving him off, I spin around, my stomach clenching as the bartender walks toward me and smiles.

“Want something to drink yet?” he asks.

“I’m not sure what I want.” I force a sly grin, peering at him through my lashes.

His blue eyes spark. “No favorites?”

I mimic his movements, making sure the top of my cleavage is pushed up from where I have it pressed against the bar, giving him a good view. “I’m not really into drinking, you know? I think I’d rather… fly.”

His gaze drops from my eyes to the swell of my chest, and I bite back the disgust at how predictable he is. Honestly, I’m not even that attractive. Not compared to my sister’s delicate facial features, but throw a pair of tits in a man’s face and all the blood rushes to their dick instead of their brains.

He licks his lips.

“I just like to have a good time…” I cock my head, drumming my long nails on the bar top. “Don’t you?”

He slings an off-white cloth over his shoulder and places his elbow on the edge of the bar.

“Andrew!” a voice yells. His attention snaps to a server who’s standing with an empty tray and an annoyed look on her face. “Dude, can I get my drinks?”

Grimacing, he looks back at me, tapping the bar top with his knuckles. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

The second his back is turned, I let the facade drop, picking up a coaster and twirling it around in my hand, trying to keep from asking for soda water and a napkin so I can scrub the stain from the toe of my shoe.

It’s not noticeable, but it’s bothering me.

“You’re trying too hard.”

My head snaps up and I lock my gaze on a strong jawline and bright-green eyes. I quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”

The man grins, dimples framing his pouty lips as he takes a sip of his beer and props himself against the bar.

I scoff, irritated that this guy decided to annoy me and even more irritated that he’s attractive enough to make my stomach clench. “Who says I’m trying?”

His throat bobs and he steps closer, sending a whiff of cinnamon into my nose as he runs his hand through his short and slightly curly brown locks. My eyes track the movement, then move farther down his black leather jacket and dark jeans.

“You can practice on me if you want,” he continues, nodding toward the bartender. “Before he gets back.”

I tilt my head, trying to figure out if he’s hitting on me or making fun of me. “Wow, what an offer.”

He shrugs. “I’m in a giving mood.”

Normally, I wouldn’t react well to someone getting in my space. But this guy intrigues me. Plus, he’s hot, and quite frankly, I’m horny. It’s hard to find someone I can tolerate long enough to let them get me off.

Reaching out my hand, I grab the beer from his fingers, bringing it to my mouth and taking a small sip. I hide the cringe from the taste, running my tongue along my lips as I swallow. It feels weird without the piercing that’s usually there, but identifiable things like tongue rings aren’t great for maintaining anonymity.

And I wasn’t lying earlier. I’m not a drinker.

“Well, that’s good news.” I slide from the stool and move forward until my chest grazes his torso. His breath hitches as I rise up slightly, my lips ghosting across his jaw. “Because I’m a taker.”

His eyes flare as I back away and that perfect smile blooms on his face. “You’re interesting.”

“And you’re annoying,” I reply.

He chuckles.

My chest tightens and I bite my lip to hide the grin wanting to escape, shaking my head.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

I peek at him. “Why?”

“It’s only natural. Guy sees an attractive woman at the bar, wants to get to know her better.” He sticks his hand out. “I’m Nick.”

Crossing my arms, I look down at his palm. “How do I know you’re not trying to find out my name so you can stalk me?”

“That’s pretty arrogant.”

“Is it? I mean, you’re here in a club, all alone, hitting on random women and asking their names. Haven’t you ever seen Dateline, Nicholas?”

He points toward the dance floor. “I’m not here alone. And it’s Nick.”

My eyes follow where he’s pointing toward an attractive guy dancing up against a random woman in the middle of the floor.

“That’s my friend, Seth. I got put on a new job today that’s taking me out of town, so we’re ‘celebrating’ one last time.”

“I’d probably celebrate too if you were leaving.”

Laughing, he takes another sip of his drink, exactly on the same spot I did earlier, his tongue peeking out and running over his lips, not dropping my stare for a single second. My insides tighten, heat flooding between my legs.

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