I grab a clean glass and the correct bottle, and strut to my first customer, a burly biker-type. His eyes fasten on my upthrust breasts and he stills. I smile. I smell a good tip.
My eyes settle on a tall, tall guy a few feet behind him, and my smile widens. Grizz the grizzly bouncer stares at me, then shakes his head and turns away, rubbing his head like it pains him. He doesn't come over and throw me right out. Good sign. My plan is working: get in, get behind the bar, and get people to talk about the leeches and their potential drug dealing.
So far, so good.
"You worked here long?" my customer asks, still staring at my chest. He looks a bit dazed. I tilt the bottle and let whiskey flow, leaning forward a little to give him a better view. I'm not about to let my best assets go to waste.
Then I see him. Standing next to Grizz, chin down, eyes ice, face frozen. Trey Robson watching me flirt with a club patron, and he can do nothing about it.
My night just got better.
"Just started, actually," I say. "Am I doing a good job?" I shrug my shoulders and his eyes follow the movement of my breasts. I knew this corset was a great idea.
"Uh, huh," the Cheetah murmurs. "I think I'm in love."
"Mmmhmmm," I murmur noncommittally. A wave of scent hits me, like the first wave of rain, hard and potent. I'd recognize this scent anywhere.
Trey storms towards me, thunder in his expression and lightning in his eyes. He's filled out since high school. Now he's massive as a mountain and beautiful as a god, and every molecule within me quivers as he closes in.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Slinging drinks." I pretend to be unaffected by him, even though every hair on my arms stands up, electrified in his presence. Bowing my head, I putter around and search for a cocktail napkin.
"We need more napkins," I tell Luka as he rushes past. Meanwhile, Trey looks like he's about to explode and rain fire down on the premises.
Excellent.
"You said you needed a bartender." I polish a few glasses briskly, my smile turning cool.
"I was just showing her the ropes-" Luka offers, and falters when Trey turns on him with a stormy expression.
"Office. Now," Trey orders me. His big hand closes on my arm, but I shake it off, giving a thumbs up to poor Luka as I head to the back.
As soon as I'm inside, Trey gets in my face. "What the fuck are you doing back here? I tell you to leave and you show up to serve drinks?"
"Can't beat 'em, join 'em." I shrug. Yes, it's a calendar quote.
"I know you're spying on us."
"Yep. Like my disguise?" I prop my hands on my hips and do a Wonder Woman pose that shows off my girls. Trey's eyes nearly bug out of his head. Poor guy, he's never seen me like this. After we broke it off, I had to let my wild side out somewhere. Can't do much under my dad's nose, but once in awhile, I like to dress up and party, and when I dress up, I do it right. Sexy clothes, crazy makeup, outrageous shoes-like Halloween. I run around looking like a slutty extra from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, howl at the moon, and stuff it all back down into a suit when I head to the office on Monday.
"No," he lies. The hunger in his eyes says otherwise. "Sheridan, what the fuck are you wearing?"
"This?" I fiddle with the satin ribbon set neatly between my breasts. "Just something I had on hand. Should be good for tips."
His eyes fix on my fingers a moment. "You can't wear that," he rasps. He drags his eyes away, rubbing the back of his neck with a big, tattooed hand. His fingers twitch. I wish he would touch me.
"You told me to wear a skirt," I say in a saccharine voice. I know it's stupid, but I press closer to him. The peaks of my breasts are dying for stimulation, but when I brush against his hard chest, it only amplifies need through the rest of my body.
Trey's eyes flare but he doesn't back up. His head drops so his lips are an inch from mine as he growls, "If you're bartending, I'm your boss."
"Oh and you have a dress code?" I give the piles of papers on his desk a scathing look.
Trey rears back, shoulders shrugging as he removes his jacket. His arms come around me and he tucks me into the heavy leather. "We do now."
I open my mouth to make a smart-aleck comment about 'dress code' and 'discrimination' and 'HR', but I can't talk about company policies when his lips are close, so very close to mine.
His jacket is still warm from his skin. Not about to mention I left my own jacket behind the bar, I pull his tighter around me and shiver. The world falls away until it's just me and Trey in this black box. No space, no time, just a heady scent rising between us and his dick prodding my belly. Yes, please.
Then he clears his throat and takes a step back.
What? No!
"Thanks for helping out. Luka's wanted us to hire help since the night crowd picked up." He walks to to the door and holds it open without meeting my eyes. "I'll let you get back to it."
I'm frozen, too shocked to even glare at him. I strut in here like a goth's wet dream and he's just gonna... pass?
Not that I expected him to pull me in here, strip off my naughty outfit, and fuck me against the wall. I did not want that. No way. I learned the hard way that Trey's a player.
I stand there, biting my lip, and after a few seconds I realize I'm staring at his belt. Specifically, several inches below it. Several looooong inches.
"Fuck," Trey growls, and stomps off, leaving me even more horn-gry.
So. Very. Horn-gry.