Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1)
Fallacy
Copyright © 2016 Kimberly Bracco
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any medium, whether electronic, internet, or otherwise, without the expressed of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, locations, and names occurring in this book are the product of the author’s imagination, or are the property of their respective owners and are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, or persons (living or dead), is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All trademarks and trade names are used in a fictitious manner and are in no way endorsed by or an endorsement of their respective owners.
Contains sexual and mature content, as well as offensive language.
Recommended for ages 18 and up.
Cover Design:
T.E. Black
Editing:
Lisa Christman
To my readers, this is for you! Thank you so much for loving my characters enough to want to hear their story.
Remember to never let your fears hold you back from seeking your own happiness.
While this can be read as a standalone series, it is a spinoff of my Uninhibited series. It contains spoilers. It is suggested that if you have any interest in reading my first series, you do so before reading Fallacy.
Happy Reading!
Quinn
I WAIT FOR the bartender to make my martini and scan the crowd to see what I’m working with tonight. The guy I just left on the dance floor was a dud; too drunk to dance let alone fuck. Over to the far right, I see a group of college kids who look like this is their first time out in a city club.
Yeah, pass.
The young ones always seem to cling. Grouped at the other end of the bar, I spot the typical suits you always see at clubs—the execs in their mid-thirties who will do anything to avoid heading home. The ones who refuse to realize they’re just a tad too old to still be doing the club scene. I spend all day with tools like them. Most of them sporting wedding rings but perusing the crowd for their next lay. I may have loose morals and no shame, but I avoid guys with wives at all costs.
A group of fairly hot guys to the left catches my attention. They’re all dressed casually, but I can tell their casual clothes don’t come cheap. Most of them are tall and decently built, but all dynamically different. They’re an eclectic group whoever they are.
It’s clear I've caught the eye of one of them. It’s hard not to notice when a gorgeous guy is staring at you. I’m not a conceited person at all, but I am honest. I know I’m a nine on a good day and a ten when I want to be. I hit all the boxes of society’s standard of beauty: long blonde hair, blue eyes, big tits, nice ass, and small waist. It’s easy to find me attractive. I’m not looking for my next boyfriend, so it works out well that most people are only superficial enough to care about the window dressing. That’s all I give a shit about too. The next hot guy I can fuck and kick to the curb.
I came here on a mission. My ass is out. My tits are on display. My fuck-me heels drawing attention to my long legs. I just bought this dress, and I love how I look in it. I saw the red halter-styled dress in the window of a boutique in Chelsea, and I had to have it. The slit that goes up to my hip is my favorite part. I probably won’t even have to take it off to get fucked. The shoes are a bit high for my five-foot-five frame, but they’re completely covered in crystals, so who gives a shit if they make me almost six feet tall.
Walking over to the group that hopefully holds the guy I’ll be fucking tonight, I give my hips a little more sway than normal. “You just going to stare at me all night or you going to ask me to dance?” I quirk an eyebrow and give the guy who holds my stare a little smirk.
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says, stepping forward.
I turn and head back out to the dance floor, throwing him a sexy look over my shoulder. “I want to see your moves.”
Like an obedient puppy offered a treat, he follows me to the dance floor. He pulls my ass into his crotch and begins to grind against me in what I’m assuming he thinks is dancing. Dude can’t move to the beat. Red flags go up all around me. In my experience, if you have shitty moves on the dance floor, you have shitty moves in the sack.
Thankfully, I only have to endure one song with him before he says, “My friends and I are upstairs. Care to join us?”
“Sure.”
Not for the reasons you’re thinking, though. I need to find a new guy for the night because you aren’t it.
We make our way up to a roped off section marked “VIP Area.” VIP, hmm? Let’s see if I can find my own Very Incredible Peen up here. The room isn’t too crowded. I notice the same guys who were downstairs with this guy, whose name I still haven’t asked. We’re not up here for more than a minute when I hear some commotion.
"Well, well, well, who do we have here, Tag?" one of the guys asks as my best friend, Ashley, and her new Superstar make their way into the room. Now I know why these guys are in the VIP. They must be with the Jets, like Ashley’s man. I should’ve been able to pick that up earlier based on their builds. Thinking about it now, they all look like football players. But I was too focused on getting some dick to pay any real attention.