Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 89259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Saving Dallas (Saving Dallas #1) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Kim Jones |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | 1301126799 (ISBN13: 9781301126798) |
| Book Information: | |
When the self-righteous, millionaire bachelorette, Dallas Knox walks into Hattiesburg’s largest night club she is looking for one thing – a one night stand with no strings attached. What she doesn’t expect is to find herself at the mercy of the Devil’s Renegades Motorcycle Club and their President-Luke Carmical. Luke is dangerous, sexy, and dark. The life he lives is far different from the privileged life Dallas is accustomed to. Can she accept the lifestyle of an MC? Can she handle the domineering nature of Luke? Or is it too late to save Dallas from the path she has chosen… | |
| Books in Series: | Saving Dallas Series by Kim Jones |
| Books by Author: | Kim Jones Books |
Chapter 1
Sitting alone in a bar, throwing back shots of Jack was not how I pictured my Saturday night. I had managed to wedge myself into a corner of the patio bar shielded by the drop door that led to the bartender's area. My intentions were to get drunk then make myself available to the first guy who could show me a good time with no strings attached. I was in a three-month slump and was ready to come out of hiding.
My ego had recently been crushed by my previous boyfriend who, I thought was in love with me -- not that the feeling was mutual, but I thought it ensured his devotion to only me. He was perfect -- great body, good job, fast car – and he was a machine in the bedroom. Come to find out, I was not the only woman under his spell. Catching that skanky bitch from Arby's in his bed, wearing nothing but a smile informed me of everything I needed to know. I was replaceable.
Being replaced by a five when you are nothing short of a ten can do some major damage to a girl like me. I'm used to getting what I want.
Being five foot four with a body most people only dream of can get you a lot when it comes to men. Not to mention my long, silky brown locks, my perfect teeth, and a smile that would make the devil himself bow down.
But all of the charm, looks, and money were not enough for Jeff. No, he had to go fuck it up with a fast food worker who drove a Honda.
So, for the past three months, I have been sulking, crying, feeling sorry for myself, and praying that a damsel-in-distress moment would come along so Jeff would feel the need to come running to protect and take care of me. It didn't happen. This was the real world, and Jeff was a prick, and I had stooped low enough to come to The Country Tavern to get laid by some lucky bastard.
The urge to pee hit me, and I was grateful for the change of scenery as I motioned to the bartender that I would be back and I came out of hiding. The bar had filled up, and the shots had definitely caught up to me. I put on my seductive face and made my way to the restrooms inside the bar. Passing the pool tables and the main bar, I scanned the crowd to look for any potentials, but none of these faces could compare to Jeff's. Scolding myself, I went into the bathroom and did my business.
On my way out, I paused and looked in the mirror at the lovely creature standing before me. "You can do this Dallas," I told myself. I straightened my black Dior minidress, pushed my long soft curls to the front of my shoulders so they fell over my breasts, and flashed myself a smile before sauntering out of the bathroom to accomplish my goal.
I headed back to the patio bar only to find my corner taken by a bunch of bikers. Great. Just fucking great. I pushed my way past them, ignoring the lewd comments, and asked the bartender for a Jack and Sprite. He gave me a small apologetic smile. "This one is on me gorgeous," he said as he passed over my drink.
"Thanks," I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Turning to face the crowd, I realized my chances of getting laid were slim to none if I continued to be surrounded by intimidating bikers, so I strolled over to the opposite side of the bar.
"Hello ma'am."
I turned to see the face of an attractive male sporting a cowboy hat and Wranglers that did amazing things for his package. "Well hello yourself," I replied with my best fuck me smile.
"I must say that you have to be the prettiest thing I’ve seen in here all night," he said with a southern drawl that had me smiling even wider.
"I was wondering if anyone would notice, or if I was just going to have to drink alone tonight." I could tell he was taking in the sight of my perky D cups as he took my drink, sat it on the bar, and grabbed my hand to lead me onto the dance floor. Dancing with a cowboy does something to a girl. Maybe it’s the way they hold you, or the way you feel respected and appreciated. Whatever that feeling is that you get, I didn't have it. This apparently was not a real cowboy. He was offbeat, drunk off his ass, and had hands that wandered over everything other than my waist.
"Whoa, cowboy," I said as we both nearly tripped over several strayed bar stools. What the fuck was up with this guy?