SEALionaire Book 2: A Navy SEAL Romance by M. S. Parker & Shiloh Walker

Author:M. S. Parker & Shiloh Walker [Parker, M. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Belmonte Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-09-06T18:30:00+00:00

8

Leighton

My ears rang and I could still feel the bass pumping in my chest as Paris and I pushed through the crowd to the corner of the street. The break between sets was short, just enough time to grab some fresh air, but more importantly, a quick smoke. The sickly sweet smoke from the joint made me laugh before Paris even passed it over. A tight knot of young guys next to us had the same idea and the distinctive smell of marijuana drifted out into the street.

“They weren't this popular last month,” Paris observed as she looked around at the throng who'd come out to hear the band.

“You must be their good-luck charm,” I said before taking a drag on the joint.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself enjoy the way the world around me smoothed out. When I opened my eyes, Paris was looking at the band's poster plastered on the alley wall.

“Yeah, the drummer wasn't bad, but now I'm thinking the front man might be more fun.”

“They always look like that, playing it up for the crowd,” I said, handing her back the joint.

The guys next to us let their comments about our dresses, shoes, and shapes get louder, clearly hoping that we'd take the compliments and want to thank them. I rolled my eyes and Paris turned her back to them, intentionally giving them a good look at her firm behind while ignoring them at the same time.

“We could go backstage, if you want. You know, get away from the general admission tickets.” She pitched her voice loud enough for the guys to hear.

“I'm not up for hearing all about chord progressions and talks with big record labels. Too boring. At least this band's got a beat I can dance to. Remember your fling with that guy in the jazz band?”

“Experimental jazz.” Paris sighed on a smoky exhale. “Yeah, he was sexy, but that noise was awful. And he was poor as shit.”

A couple of the guys behind her had either gotten brave or stupid – I was guessing the latter – and started to step between us. Paris flicked her ash at their feet and grabbed my elbow, spinning me back through the crowd. The bouncer opened the velvet rope without a second glance, and we strolled back up to the VIP lounge. Ricky sat in our horseshoe booth with both arms hooked over the strapless shoulders of a pair of bleach blondes. One was in vivid green, and the other in a blinding orange, but everything else matched from the style of their dresses, to their overdone eyeliner, and rhinestone hair clips.

Seriously? Rhinestone?

“Identical twins,” Ricky said with a triumphant grin.

“Look again.” I shook my head. “And you might want to lay off the shots.”

Ricky peered at both the bleach blondes in turn, seeing that aside from their identical hair and boobs, they actually looked different. He grinned at me, then spoke to them, “Sorry, ladies, but my real diamonds are back. Red and real's what does it for me.

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