by Swan, T L
“I’m going to go talk to him.”
“What, now?” I frown.
“Right now.”
She drains her glass, and she slams it down on the table. “Wish me luck, bitches.”
“Good luck.” We laugh.
She marches over and sits on the stool next to him. His eyes light up when he sees her, and he smiles. When he says something, she laughs on cue.
I smile at Brooke. “And that’s how it’s done.”
“Apparently.”
We watch her for a moment as she talks and laughs, and my focus comes back to Brooke. “Do you really think I’m holding myself back from meeting someone by spending so much time with Nathan?”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I do, which really sucks because he loves you more than anyone. I mean, why the fuck is he gay, anyway? He’s the perfect male specimen.”
“I know.” I sigh sadly.
I glance over to the bar to see Jolie and the guy staring at his phone. “What is she doing over there? Are they watching something?” I frown.
“Like what?”
Jolie looks over and bursts out laughing before she raises her glass to us.
“What is she doing?”
Brooke laughs. “Who fucking knows?” She sips her drink. “Oh, tell me about your interview.”
“It was so bizarre. We were going through the interview, and I had this feeling that there was something going on with him. You know when you get the feeling?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shots,” the waiter says as he puts four shots down in front of us.
“I’m sorry, what?” I frown. “I think you have the wrong table.”
“These are from your friend at the bar.” He gestures to Jolie, and we look over to see her tipping her head back and doing one, too. She laughs out loud when she stares back at the guy’s phone.
“Thank you,” we say to the waiter before he disappears through the club.
“What is she doing?” I frown.
“I don’t know but she obviously wants to get drunk.”
I giggle and pick up my first shot. “Who am I to argue?” I tip my head back and drain the shot glass. “Ugh, tequila.” I scrunch up my face in disgust. “She’s trying to kill us.” I splutter.
Brooke laughs and tips her head back. She immediately picks up her second shot and does it again. “Go on… the interview?”
“Oh.” I tip my head back and take the second shot. “Oh God, that’s bad.” I wince.
“So, we go through the interview, and then the guy says that he’s not sure he can work with me.”
“Why not?” Brooke frowns.
We hear a loud laugh from the bar. We look up to see Jolie’s head is tipped back and she’s really laughing.
“That guy must be really fucking funny.” Brooke frowns.
“Either that or he’s just roofied her drink.” I glance at the four empty shot glasses on our table. “And ours. Anyway, so the interviewer then tells me that he isn’t sure if he can work with me because he’s attracted to me.”
“What?”
“I know.” I shrug. “Bizarre. Right?”
“Drinks, ladies.” The waiter puts down another four shots in front of us.
“What in the world?” Brooke grumbles.
Jolie laughs from the bar and raises her shot glass at us. She tips her head back to drain it, and then goes back to looking at his phone.
“What the hell are they watching on his phone?” I frown.
“God knows.” Brooke downs her shot. “This is working, though. I’m feeling buzzed already. So, you got the job. When do you start?”
“A week from Monday.”
“So soon?”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do about Dr. Flirty Boss?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe I misheard him?”
Jolie falls into the seat beside us. “Hey.” She laughs.
“What are you doing?”
She giggles and gestures to the guy she was talking to. He’s currently carrying a tray of eight shots. He sits down at the table with us. “Girls, this is Santiago.” She introduces him.
“Hi.” We smile. He’s hot!
“Hello,” he says with a foreign accent. “Hello, beautiful ladies.”
Jolie’s eyes dance with delight as she tips her head back and downs another shot. “We’ve been watching some movies on his phone, and I thought it was only fair I shared those with my friends.”
Brooke and I frown at each other. Huh?
“Ah, ladies.” Santiago smiles. “Let me introduce myself.” He clicks something on his phone.
“Drink!” Jolie orders. “You’re going to need it.”
We all take our next shot, and I am feeling very inebriated here. Santiago holds his phone up, and we all look at it. It takes a moment for my eyes to focus, and then I slap my hand over my mouth.
It’s him! Santiago is having sex with a woman.
Brooke’s horrified eyes stare at the screen, and I burst out laughing at her expression.
He’s really giving it to this girl, while her legs are up over his shoulders. He pulls out and turns to face the camera. He’s hung like a fucking horse.
I burst out laughing. “What the hell?”
Jolie laughs hard. “Right?”
The video switches to him on a beach, where he’s banging two girls who are both on their knees in front of him. He’s giving hard, deep thrusts, and he even slaps one of them on the behind.
Brooke’s eyes are the size of saucers as she stares at the phone. “W-what the ever-loving fuck?” she stammers. “What am I watching right now?”
Jolie tips her head back and laughs even harder. She’s hysterical.
Santiago taps on the screen, and he’s soon in the darkness. We each lean in to try and focus, only to see he’s fucking another girl on the trunk of a car. The sound of skin on skin can be heard all around us. I hate to say it, but it’s actually pretty hot to watch.
My eyes meet my friends, and the three of us burst out laughing again.
“What kind of freak are you?” Brooke blurts out.
“The world’s greatest lover,” Santiago purrs.
“Where do you meet these women?” I ask him.
“In bars, over tequila.” He raises his brow. He’s completely serious. He thinks he’s the world’s greatest lover.
“I find you disgusting,” Brooke says, indignant as she drains her glass. “Not to mention offensive.”
“And totally fucking hot.” Jolie laughs. “We did say we wanted to try something different, girls.”
I laugh with her. “Not this different.”
Nathan
“And through here is the master bedroom,” the realtor says as she shows me through the apartment.
I look over the expansive views of San Francisco. It’s a beautiful apartment—the nicest I’ve seen so far, and I’ve been looking for a long time. It’s the best part of town, close to restaurants and shops.
“Very nice.” I walk up to the large master suite, which is nearly the size of Eliza’s entire apartment. There is a large ensuite bathroom off of it. It’s not decorated in the colors I like but we can work with that later. There’s also a huge walk-in closet. Enough room for both of our things.
This could work.
I look around intently, this is very nice indeed.
I walk back out into the living area, and down the hall.
“There are five bedrooms in total. A loft as the master, two living areas, and a huge galley kitchen with another bathroom on this level,” the realtor continues in her sales pitch.
“And garages?”
“Double garage with twenty-four hour concierge.”
“And security?”
“Full surveillance.”
I turn to the realtor with a smile. “I’d like to make an offer.”
* * *
The bar is bustling, and I’m with Drew and Glen, my two best friends. We
’re currently waiting for the girls.
“Where the fuck are they?” Drew looks at his watch. “They were supposed to be here an hour ago. I want to eat.”
We’re not sure if the girls have eaten or not, so we’re waiting for them. I take out my phone and text Eliza.
Where are you?
I put my phone down onto the table and wait for her reply.
I look around the room, and over in the corner, I see a familiar face.
I smirk at Glen. “Your best buddy is here.”
They look around. “Who?”
“Over by the corner.” I tip my beer in the general direction, and Glen catches sight of the guy I’m talking about, and he rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, such a fucking jerk Don’t let him see us.”
I chuckle as I take a swig of my beer. Samuel Phillips is Glen’s archenemy. He’s an anaesthetist like Glen, and they often see each other at the hospitals they work at. Samuel’s good-looking and confident, and he loves to tell you how great he is at every chance he gets. He drives Glen absolutely mad.
“I’m going to knock that prick out one of these fucking days,” Glen murmurs as he takes a sip.
“Why does he get under your skin so much again?” I ask.
“I don’t know, he just does. He’s flirty, and he has the nurses all giggling like school girls. You’re at work, fucktard, put your dick away and just do your damn job.”
Drew smirks. “So, you’re jealous?”
Glen scoffs. “Of him? As if.”
Drew and I chuckle. I pick up my phone and check if Eliza’s replied. “Where the hell are they?” I rub my stomach. “I am about to pass out from hunger.”
I’m feeling more myself now that I’m with the boys. I’ve been rattled all day by my little bikini erection this morning.
I was just horny. A good jerk off fixed the situation, and now I can, thankfully, return to normality.
I smile to myself, and I thought it was Eliza…
Stupid fuck.
I shake my head. What was I thinking? Of course, it wasn’t her. I’ve seen Eliza in next to nothing most days for the last ten years. It wasn’t her body… it was mine.
It was just a hormonal malfunction. Nothing more, nothing less.
My thoughts get interrupted by Glen’s voice. “About time. Where the hell have you girls been?”
“Watching movies,” Brooke says as she tries to keep a straight face.
“More like documentaries,” Jolie adds. “Really fucking interesting ones.”
Eliza laughs. I look up and catch sight of her and my heart skips a beat. She’s wearing a tight black dress. It’s off the shoulders and sits just above the knee. Her long, dark hair is down, and her makeup is smokey. She smiles and comes around to kiss me on the cheek, placing her hand on my thigh.
“Hi, Nathe.”
She’s tipsy; I can tell by her husky voice.
“Hi.” I look her up and down. “You look gorgeous.”
I feel a twinge in my cock. No!
Not again.
She smiles seductively. “Thanks.”
“Are we having dinner?” I ask them.
“No, we ate already. We had canapés and tequila.”
“Oh, thanks very much. Thanks for telling us!” Drew snaps. “Here we are waiting for you lot while wasting away.”
Eliza giggles as Brooke pretends to play the violin.
“Let’s get some cocktails,” Eliza says, looking over to the bar.
“Great idea.”
The girls take off as I grab a menu. “I’m not waiting for those bitches next time, I’m eating when I’m hungry. Screw this, I’m getting everything.”
Three hours later, the boys and I are talking to a group of women when I glance across the room. Eliza is having the time of her life, dancing and flirting up a storm. She has hardly spoken two words to me all night.
And it shouldn’t bother me… but it does.
I inhale and shake my head, reminding myself of who I am.
Stop it. Who cares who she talks to? Not me, that’s for sure.
“So, are you attached?” the blonde asks as she rubs her hand over my bicep.
“Yes. Very,” I answer flatly.
“I don’t mind,” she purrs. “Makes it more fun. I’m very discreet.”
I roll my eyes. Good grief.
Glen smirks, clearly amused by her answer.
My eyes find Eliza as Samuel Phillips approaches her. He says something, and she laughs out loud and kisses his cheek in greeting.
I narrow my eyes as I watch the two of them. He’s animated as he talks and she’s giggling like a schoolgirl.
Oh, please, give me a break.
His eyes roam down her body and the back up to her face. My jaw clenches as I watch him.
Don’t look at her like that, dickhead.
Anger begins to roll through me as I feel myself becoming territorial of her.
I snap my eyes away angrily, but before long, they rise to watch over her again.
Samuel’s eyes are drinking her in, his attention roaming all over her body.
I know exactly what he’s thinking.
I want to march over there and teach him some manners. I need a distraction.
“I’m getting another round of drinks,” I say to the guys.
I stand in line at the bar and try to get a handle on myself, stretching my neck to try and release some of the tension.
What do I care, anyway?
It’s none of my business who Eliza talks to.
She’s a big girl; she can do whatever she wants.
I watch as Samuel takes her hand and leads her to the dancefloor.
He takes her in his arms, and she smiles up at him. I clench my jaw.
Don’t. Even.
What the fuck is she doing? She never carries on like this. Actually, all three girls are on the loose tonight. How much did they drink today?
I watch them for a moment, and Samuel’s hands are all over Eliza’s behind. She doesn’t seem to mind.
People block my view until I can’t see them. I crane my neck to see that they’ve moved to the other side of the dancefloor. Frustration fills me.
Fuck this, I’m not waiting in this line. I storm back to where my friends are to get a better view of what’s going on.
“Where are our drinks?” Glen asks.
“I’ll go back in a minute,” I reply, totally distracted.
“Where do you work?” The blonde asks me.
My eyes stay fixed on the dancefloor.
Drew taps me on the leg and gestures to the blonde with a jut of his chin.
“Oh, sorry,” I say to her. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said, where do you work?”
“I’m a plumber,” I lie. Why the fuck is this woman still here?
Drew smirks against his glass as he takes a big gulp.
Will you girls fuck off? I want to watch that douchebag to make sure he doesn’t touch Eliza. My eyes go back to them on the dancefloor, and Samuel smiles down at Eliza like he’s about to eat her.
I begin to see red.
Don’t touch her, fucker, or you will die.
I glance at Drew, and he, knowing exactly what I’m thinking, chuckles.
Samuel’s hands go to Eliza’s ass, and I step forward. Drew grabs my arm.
“Easy,” he whispers.
Samuel pulls Eliza toward him, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m beside them.
“Time to go, Eliza,” I bark.
“What?” She frowns as she stumbles back in surprise.
“You’ve had too much to drink. I’m taking you home.”
“No, it’s okay.” Samuel smiles, adding in a sleazy wink. “I’ll get her home safely.”
“I said no.”
He scowls. “Mind your business, Mercer.”
I glare at him and pull Eliza from his grip. “Do not fucking piss me off.”
Eliza frowns as she looks between us. “Nathan
?”
“Don’t Nathan me.” I take her hand and drag her from the dancefloor.
“What are you doing?” she snaps.
“Stopping you from embarrassing yourself.”
“What?”
I point to the door. “We’re leaving.”
“Well, that depends.”
“On what?”
She narrows her eyes playfully and stops and puts her hands on her hips. “Are you taking me for pizza? Because I’m only leaving for pizza.”
“If you fucking behave.” I take her hand in mine once more.
“Fine.” She concedes. “But I want a whole pizza to myself.”
“Don’t be a pig.” I mutter, distracted.
She waves to our friends. “Bye!” she calls as we walk toward the door. “Why are you such a party pooper?” She says from behind me.
“Do you want pizza or not?” I snap.
She begins to snort and laugh at herself, and I roll my eyes.
Drunk women. Is there anything more annoying?
An hour and a half later, I fumble with the key to get into the apartment. I wasn’t joking back there. Eliza isn’t just tipsy, she’s rolling drunk.
We had to pull into another bar we walked past and have another two cocktails before we had pizza. Now, finally, we’re home.
I have her stilettos in one hand, and a vice-like grip on her hand with the other as she sways.
“Stand still,” I say.
“Stop bossing me around,” she slurs.
I struggle with the key. “I like bossing you around.”
“No shit.” She widens her eyes at me.
I smile, the key turns, and we stumble through the door. Before I can say a word, Eliza reaches down to the hem of her dress and lifts it over her head.
She is wearing a black G-string, and when she turns toward me, I burst out laughing. “What the fuck is on your boobs?”
She looks down and frowns with a stumble. “Oh. Nipple covers.”
“What the hell are they?”
“They stop you from getting all… nippy.”
“Nippy?”
She peels them off and slaps them on my cheeks. I look at her in horror. “You did not just do that.”
“Yeah, I did… cause you’re a real boob.” She bursts out laughing and points at me. “Get it, because you got nipple covers on your face… cause you’re a boob.”
