Brooklyn (Corked and Tapped Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  She was yanked out of her pondering when a man slid onto the stool next to her. “Hey, darlin’. Are you here alone?” He was tall and skinny…and drunk. His words were slurred, and he swayed too close to her as he spoke. His breath reeked of beer, and his hair was a bit too long and messy.

  “Back off, man.” Owen had returned out of thin air to respond to the lanky man.

  The man grinned as he tilted back and forth, his shoulder bumping Brooklyn’s several times. She had to grip the edge of the bar to keep from falling off her stool.

  Owen’s arm shot out between Brooklyn’s shoulder and the drunk man, stopping him from taking her down on the next unexpected sway. “How about you head for the door and I’ll get you a ride home?”

  The man laughed. “Nah. I’m fine. I’ll have another beer.”

  “You’re not having another beer. You’re too drunk to stand up as it is.”

  The guy turned to face Brooklyn and winked…badly. “You’re cute. You interested in some fun?”

  Brooklyn winced and leaned farther away from him.

  Owen glanced around, presumably looking for some assistance. “Mike. Help me out here,” he shouted toward the owner.

  The second Owen’s hand pulled back, the drunk turned toward Brooklyn again. He planted a palm on the bar and leaned way into her space. “Come with me, darlin’. I’ll show you a good time.”

  Brooklyn didn’t respond, but she held her breath as she slid off the stool on the far side, out of fear he would knock her off if she didn’t.

  Mike materialized in front of her, and she flattened herself as far away from the altercation as she could while the owner handled the drunk guy. Seconds later, two bouncers joined Mike, took over, and escorted him to the front door. Thank God for Jeremy and Kyle.

  And Owen. And Mike. And Jade. And the other waitress, Stacy. All of them had circled around her. She had a lot of people looking out for her. Maybe she had a few friends after all.

  Owen was no longer in sight, and she figured out the reason a few moments later when he showed up on her side of the bar. He set his hand on her biceps and nodded toward the hallway at the back of the bar. “Come on,” he murmured.

  Chapter 3

  Brooklyn grabbed her envelope, adjusted her small purse where it hung across her body, and followed him. His hand slid down her arm to clasp hers, and she kept herself tight against his back as he maneuvered through the crowd.

  After facing the bar for so long, she realized she’d blocked out the rest of the world. The small dance floor was jammed with patrons as they shimmied against one another under the string of lights overhead. The music was current pop, louder now that she’d stepped away from the bar.

  They entered the hallway where the restrooms were and then Owen opened a door across from the men’s room and pulled her inside. As soon as he shut off the noise, she blew out a breath. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

  “Of course.”

  She glanced around. They were in a supply room filled with boxes of booze that extended from floor to ceiling on both walls. More of a closet. There was hardly enough space to move. The lighting came from a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling.

  “Sorry about that asshole. That was the last thing you needed tonight.” Owen set a hand on Brooklyn’s shoulder and slid it up to caress the side of her neck.

  She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never stood next to him. Never been this close. Never felt his gentle touch.

  And he was gentle. Both his tone and his touch. Soothing. Caressing. In complete contrast with his rugged looks. Owen was rough around the edges with his tattoos and muscular build and a few scars. She lifted her hand to trace one of the scars on his arm before she could stop herself. “What happened?” she whispered.

  “Knife fight.”

  She gasped, lifting her gaze.

  He smiled. “Not like you’re thinking. I was in the army. It happened overseas.”

  “Oh. I never realized that.” She winced. “I guess I usually do all the talking when I’m here. You know everything about me. I know very little about you.”

  He smiled again. “It’s part of my job.”

  “Psychiatrist?”

  He chuckled. “Yep. Whatever the customer needs.”

  She set her hands on his chest, feeling the warmth and hardness and strength. She’d never so boldly touched him before, but he’d made the first move by holding her neck. Her confidence grew. Surely he wouldn’t turn her down if she asked for a night of sex. “What if the customer would like you to kiss her?” she asked, her voice wobbling.

  His grin grew wider and he stepped forward, pressed her against the door, and lowered his face toward hers. Instead of claiming her mouth, he spoke. “I’d say that I’ve waited a damn long time to hear you say that.”

  Her breath hitched. Really? “You never… I mean, I didn’t know…”

  He shrugged. “You weren’t ready. And, you were married. I don’t care that you’ve been in the process of a divorce for-fucking-ever, I don’t touch married women.”

  “But you do kiss women who come into your bar if they ask you to,” she stated, wondering how many women he’d lured into this closet.

  He laughed, his chest vibrating against her hands. “No. Never. This is a first. Mike is probably going to ream me for this. We aren’t supposed to proposition the customers.” He stepped closer, his body aligning with hers fully, his free hand going to her hip.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her heart was racing. “Well, then, you can point out to him that you weren’t the one who initiated anything.” She grinned.

  His gaze searched hers, scanning her entire face. “Are you? Initiating this?”

  “Is it bad if I am?”

  “No, just unexpected.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re so pure. Kind. Good.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that good.”

  “Yeah. You are. I’ve never been attracted to someone like you. You’re a first for me. It’s refreshing. In fact, I’ve often wondered if you saw more in me than just a guy behind the bar who listened to you.”

  She nodded slowly. “For the better part of a year, yes. But I didn’t have the courage to come on to you.” Oh yeah, she was getting bolder now. She could do this. Flirt with him. And he seemed to be responding positively.

  He set his forehead against hers and inhaled. “You even smell good.”

  She giggled. “I smell good?”

  “Yep. Clean. Sweet. Good.”

  “I’m going to get a complex if you keep referring to me as ‘good.’”

  “How many former military men with tattoos and a motorcycle have you dated?”

  Her eyes widened. “You have a motorcycle?”

  He smirked. “Of course.”

  “Will you take me on it?”

  “Any time you want.”

  “Tonight? Will you take me tonight?”

  “Are you feeling reckless?” He twirled a finger in her hair and gave it a slight tug. “You’ve been divorced for less than a day, and already you’re sneaking in back rooms with bartenders to make out and riding on motorcycles.”

  “Well, technically I haven’t ridden your motorcycle yet, nor have you made out with me,” she pointed out.

  He groaned, and then his head tipped to one side and he lowered his mouth to hers.

  The chemistry was electrifying and immediate. His lips were soft and demanding at the same time. His tongue darted out to run along the seam of her lips. She parted for him and thoroughly enjoyed dueling with him.

  She smoothed her hands from his chest to his waist and around to his back, loving the feel of every inch of his hard body. He must work out every damn day. He was that fit.

  Her mind began to spin as her breasts grew heavy and her nipples swelled against her bra. When she moaned unexpectedly into Owen’s mouth, his hands went to her waist and spread upward until he cupped her breasts.


  He squeezed gently, his thumbs somehow finding and flicking over her nipples. Her entire body went into overload. She’d never been this aroused in her life. Was it the setting? The fact that they might get caught? The sheer naughtiness of making out with a rugged bartender in the back room? Something she never would have pictured herself doing a year ago.

  She didn’t know. Nor did she care. She just knew she wanted more.

  Suddenly, Owen’s entire demeanor changed. He growled into her mouth as his hands left her breasts to slide down her arms. He grabbed her wrists, tugged her arms over her head, and pinned her to the door.

  She lost the ability to kiss him back two seconds later when his knee wedged between her legs, forcing them to part the few inches her dress would allow. It was enough for her sex to rub against him, though. Enough for her eyes to roll back and her brain to turn to mush. Enough to make her want him to strip her naked and take her right here. Right now.

  But that’s not what happened next. Owen wrenched his lips from hers on another growl and tipped his head back. He still held her plastered to the door, but he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily, gasping.

  She watched his throat work through her blurred vision, blinking, trying to figure out what was happening. When she tugged on her hands, he held them tighter, pressing his knee harder against her.

  He yanked his face down to meet hers. His eyes were blazing with something she’d never seen before. Not anger. Lust. Intense desire. For a moment, he wasn’t the friendly bartender who’d listened to her sob story for a year. He was a man who wanted her…badly.

  His eyes slowly closed, and he eased the grip on her wrists. His knee lowered at the same time his forehead came down to land on hers. He whispered to her in a gravelly voice, “I have to get back to work.”

  She watched his face relax as he forced himself to calm.

  His hands slid down her arms until he held her waist with his fingers spread so far that he seemed to be touching her everywhere at once. He opened his eyes. “Stay.”

  “Stay?”

  He nodded. “Until I get off.”

  “’Kay.” Yes. There was no way she was going to argue.

  He blew out a breath. “Thank you.”

  She didn’t ask how long that might be or what time his shift was over. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  He took a step back, breaking contact with her except where his hands grabbed her elbows, steadying her.

  She was shaking. Every inch of her body was aroused and on fire. Stopping right now was a disaster. For the first time in her life, she understood what men meant when they spoke of being cock-blocked. She literally ached. Everywhere.

  Owen bent down and picked something up off the floor. She hadn’t realized she’d dropped her divorce papers until he handed them to her. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you received these today?”

  She tried to smile. “I think I get the idea.”

  He returned the smile with a lift of one side of his mouth. “Gotta go before Mike kills me.”

  She didn’t think Mike would kill him or anyone else for that matter. The owner was too calm a guy to get that angry. She nodded.

  Owen leaned in and kissed her hard and soundly one more time, a groan escaping his lips as he tugged her away from the door and pulled it open. He didn’t release her hand as he wove through the crowd and literally lifted her onto the stool she’d vacated.

  She was consumed with the way Owen was manhandling her and the way it was affecting her. She was so aroused she was trembling.

  When he turned to round the bar, she grabbed his hand and tugged him back. He leaned down to hear what she had to say. “I didn’t get to see your tattoos.”

  He chuckled, and then he cupped her face and grinned at her. “Later. God, woman. You’re killing me.”

  Chapter 4

  Brooklyn watched every move Owen made for the next hour. She leaned her elbow on the bar, followed him around with her gaze, and sipped the fresh glass of wine he poured her. Apparently she was breaking all the rules tonight—making out with the bartender and drinking more than one glass of wine.

  He pretended to ignore her, but every now and then he came closer to grab a beer or a specific glass. When he did, he smirked at her and shook his head.

  Once he leaned over the bar, wrapped his hand around her neck, and hauled her closer. His lips landed on her ear. “Baby, I’m going to get you back for every second you’re torturing me.” He released her just as quickly and strode away.

  She held her breath, knowing she had a goofy expression on her face and not caring who saw her ogling him. He didn’t seem to mind the attention or the fact his coworkers were not remotely oblivious to their obvious dance.

  Brooklyn was way out of her comfort zone with this level of flirtation. Before tonight, she had never once so blatantly come on to a man. She had never asked someone to kiss her. She had never asked someone to show her their chest. She had never made a man burn with her gaze.

  On top of that, she’d never had a one-night stand. She’d never left a bar with a guy. She’d never had sex for sex’s sake. But with Owen…it felt good. Powerful. Right. She wasn’t about to stop.

  As she watched him work, she began to worry that she might want more. If the small taste of him she’d gotten in the supply closet was any indication, she was in trouble. He’d already exceeded her expectations and surpassed any other man’s ability to make her burn. She needed to pull herself together and remind herself this was one night. He wasn’t offering her more. There had been no mention of any such thing.

  One night. A night she already knew was going to change her for the better.

  No one sat on the stool next to her, so Jade often leaned over it to place her orders. She kept glancing back and forth between Owen and Brooklyn. After about an hour, she turned to face Brooklyn, her hand on her hip. “The bar is made of wood, you know.”

  Brooklyn cocked her head to one side and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Jade laughed. “You’re going to light it on fire before the end of the night.”

  Brooklyn giggled. Jade might be right. The cute younger waitress rolled her eyes as she shook her dark ponytail behind her and smoothed her hands over the tight black tank top she wore. “I’m gonna self-combust from all the heat you two are putting off. Thank God your divorce is finally final. I couldn’t have taken many more weeks of Owen waiting for you.”

  Brooklyn’s eyes went wide. Owen was waiting for me?

  “Jade…” Owen warned from the other side of the bar as he set her order on her tray.

  Jade laughed as she spun around and fled with her orders.

  Brooklyn set her chin on her palm and met Owen’s gaze. “You’ve been waiting for me,” she pointed out unnecessarily.

  He shot her a look. “I already told you that.”

  “Yeah, but it’s different knowing other people knew it too.”

  Another smirk. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  She glanced at her wine. Her glass was almost empty. “Have I been cut off?” she teased, pointing at the glass.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” She sat up straighter. Did he think she was drunk? She was far from drunk. She’d been there for over two hours, and he’d only topped off her glass twice. “Why?”

  He leaned over the bar again. “Baby, I want you on the back of my bike sober and able to consent.”

  Able to consent… She squeezed her legs together at those words. She almost moaned. He was absolutely going to have sex with her tonight. It was difficult to contain her excitement.

  He leaned back to twist off a difficult cap on some sort of bottle, glancing at her again. “You with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Her cheeks heated, and her panties were now officially wet.

  When she’d left her apartment earlier and walked the one block to Corked and Tapped, she had hoped Owen would be work
ing. She had hoped she might spend the evening flirting with him. She had never dreamed of an offer like the one he was making.

  What bra and panty set was she wearing? Did they even match? She tried to remember, realizing she had on a plain white bra and white bikini briefs. Nothing fancy. Nothing she would have worn if she’d had an inkling she might end up in bed with Owen.

  It was too late now. Somehow she doubted he cared what her underwear looked like.

  Minutes after Jade left Brooklyn, Mike showed up at her side. He slid onto the stool next to her, facing away from the bar, his head cocked toward her, his elbows extending behind his back to rest on the bar. Casual, but not at all casual.

  “How are you?” he asked. “I heard your divorce was final today.”

  “Yes.” Brooklyn gave Owen another glance and turned sideways to more fully face the owner. “I’m doing fine.”

  Mike stared at her, then at Owen, then back to her, his brows drawn slightly together. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  She swallowed. He had to be referring to Owen. She didn’t answer him. How could she? She had no idea what she was doing. She only knew it felt right. “This isn’t me on the rebound, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He studied her. “You’re sure?”

  She tipped her head to one side. “Yes.” Why did he care? So what if she had a one-night stand with Owen?

  “He may look like a bad boy, and he certainly gives that impression. I realize women swoon over him every night. I see the appeal. I’ve spoken to enough women, my staff included, to know he’s every woman’s dream guy.”

  “Pardon?”

  Mike shrugged. “Something about the short, groomed beard, the tattoos, the bike, the muscles. I’m not into guys. Can’t say I get it, but I’ve heard.”

  Brooklyn glanced at Owen to find him halfway down the bar, but his gaze was on Mike and he was glaring daggers.

  “Yeah, that’s an accurate description,” she agreed.