by Vesper Young
“Hmm?”
He crooked a finger towards Kara, affection clear from his tone. “That woman makes the best Manhattan martini in the tri-state area. And I should know! I’ve had enough of them that I sweat olive oil.”
I raised a brow and turned back to Kara. “Looks like I’ll have what he’s having.”
“Coming right up,” Kara said with a wink.
I turned back to Marco. “So, you’ve tried a lot of martinis and this is the best?”
“They are when she makes them.” From the inflection of his voice, he wasn’t being suggestive about it. He really seemed to think Kara made the best martinis around. “I should know. Name’s Marco Petrioli, certified barfly.”
“Lucas Northman.” We shook. “New owner of the Rattler.”
Marco gave a slow nod. “So I’ve seen. And heard.”
“Anything I should be worried about?”
“Well…” He drew the word out for almost four seconds. “Nope. Sounds like you’re pretty well-liked, at least with the bartenders.”
“That so?” Kara came back over, martini glass in hand. The glass was filled with an amber liquid and topped with two black cherries skewered on a plastic sword. “Kara, am I well-liked by you?”
She placed the drink in front of me. “Depends how you tip.”
Her sassy answer had Marco laughing. “She’s a quick one.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said. I pulled my wallet from my pocket and slipped a fifty over. “Am I popular now?”
“You haven’t even tried your drink,” she protested.
I took a big gulp. An intense mix of sweetness from the cherries, bitterness from something else, tied together with the usual burn of whiskey sent me into a coughing fit.
Both Marco and Kara laughed at my horrified expression. Kara walked away and returned with a full amount of change for the drink. “I’d say that was the best tip I’ve had all night.”
I rolled my eyes and grinned, aiming to be a good sport.
“Not much of a drinker, ay, kid?” Marco asked.
“Maybe not.” But I’d bought a bar anyway, liking the crowds of people even if I didn’t fit with them. I regretted saying that, though. Mainly because speaking forced me to taste the mix anew.
“So, what do you think of the new setup?” Kara asked Marco.
Marco spun on his seat to see the room before finishing his spin back. “I noticed. Different. Looks good. But it’s good you didn’t change the seats or I don’t think it’d be the same place.” Marco patted the bar stool.
I didn’t have to look at Kara to know she was giving me an I-told-you-so look, but I did anyway. Even when she was smug, she was beautiful.
The three of us spoke a bit longer, getting Marco’s unfiltered feedback about the bar. Seats were good, as established. He liked the clock, though it made him realize how late it was. In fact, pretty much everyone who’d come by called an early night. By half-past eleven, the bar was empty. I let everyone leave early. Kara lingered. First behind the bar, then around the computer, slowly gravitating towards me. I was even less subtle, counting the seconds until everyone left. Once the door shut, our hands were all over each other and we made our way to my office.
“You taste like cherries,” Kara told me between kisses. She ran her tongue over my lips, as if trying to better taste the sweetness from the candied drink. Ironic since I was used to inhaling remnants of the bar in her hair and on her skin.
“You taste like my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Kara leaned against my desk considering.
I gave her a look. “Too fast?”
She considered, not immediately rejecting the word. “No, just feels weird after… well, it’s just right. Boyfriend.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” I reached into the minifridge and pulled out two pints of ice cream. “Because I got these to celebrate.”
“Chunky Monkey? You remembered.” Her soft expression struck me.
I held up the pint and plastic spoon. “So you’re my girlfriend?”
She rolled her eyes. “You can’t bribe me with ice cream to be your girlfriend. I am or I’m not.”
I gave an understanding nod. “Gotcha. I’ll just put this away then.”
Before I could move toward the fridge, she pushed off the desk and kissed me. And when she pulled away a minute later, the ice cream and spoon were in her hands.
I wasn’t even mad.
“As your girlfriend, I’m legally entitled to all Chunky Monkey ice cream you buy.”
I grinned and opened my own pint.
We spent an hour eating ice cream and talking. Nothing serious, a bit of work about the new setup and menu, thoughts about different people at the bar. As much as I enjoyed the kisses and sex, these moments were more valuable to me. The ease between us couldn’t be replicated with anyone else. Kara was opening up, and I had faith in time she’d be willing to move forward with me.
It felt good to laugh with her, just eating ice cream late at night. It felt great to kiss her, ice cream forgotten. When I finally drove Kara to her apartment, I wondered if I’d be joining her, but when she got that panicked look in her eye, I didn’t bother to ask. If she wanted slow, I’d give her slow. And in return, I’d get to have her in my life.
17. Kara
The next couple of weeks flew by almost like I was in a dream. During the days, Lucas didn’t really need me to consult on much anymore, but I came by the bar almost every day anyway. With the bar now appropriately decorated, we went over menu designs. He opened up about some other aspects of the business and was blunt about where his previous expertise overlapped and ended. And we also made out furiously in his office when we decided we couldn’t keep our hands off one another any longer. Sometimes it went a little farther, but not by much.
Actually having sex was a bit harder. In an odd way, I was almost glad of it. I held on to the desperate hope that I’d get a grip on myself.
Lucas was good about it. He didn’t push me farther than I was comfortable, though I could read the confusion coming off of him in waves. It’s not like I was a stranger to sex with Lucas. Especially not after the first weekend. That first weekend, I’d come dangerously close that to telling Lucas everything. I wouldn’t even need to tell him exactly about Ryan. It was a ticking time bomb and would come out somehow. Some slip of the tongue, some random dino toy. Something would reveal it.
Try as I did to figure out how to take that next step, I couldn’t. I rationalized I needed time. It was the source of countless internal arguments, each ending without a clear answer. I lost count of how many times I opened my mouth, desperate for the next words to explain everything. Instead, silence. I was someone who had always trusted her gut, and my gut said I could trust Luke with anything. But a shadow of doubt kept me silent.
When I’d last spoken to Mindy, she’d been surprised I still hadn’t told him. She respected my caution, but advised me to make sure I wasn’t just delaying the inevitable because I was scared.
I hated it when my best friend was right.
“Oh, Kara, I wanted to ask you something,” my other close friend, Amelia, said.
“Hmm?” We were setting up the Rattler. Lucas had adjusted the hours to be a bit earlier to encourage more of a dinner crowd, which had worked well thus far. Lucas and I had talked about sending coupons for a free appetizer or something when the new year rolled around.
“You said Ryan has that overnight trip this weekend, right?”
I nodded, subtly glancing around to make sure Lucas was nowhere near. The act itself was another betrayal.
This weekend, Ryan had a three day, two night trip with his school. It was the weekend before Christmas, but thanks to the extra money that had come with consulting for Lucas, it hadn’t been too bad a squeeze to send him off with extra spending change.
It occurred to me that also meant my apartment was child-free tonight.
“I was wondering if you’d trade shifts with Ethan tomorrow night,” she
asked a little too casually.
I bit down on a grin. “Funny, Ethan normally asks me himself to trade shifts.”
Amelia did something I’d never seen her do before.
She blushed.
“I can do it,” I assured her. “As long as you tell me what’s going on with you two.”
She shrugged, trying and failing to seem nonchalant. “Nothing is going on. Just a few dates, a couple nights of animalistic sex. The usual.”
I laughed. “A few dates is not your usual. And that barely counts as what’s going on.”
Amelia was quiet, shyly glancing around no one could overhear. Normally, Amelia didn’t care who heard her business, speaking with an openness you couldn’t help but find charismatic.
“Good for you, girl. Seriously. He’s a good guy,” I said. “And he’s totally into you.”
She turned. “Enough about me. Dish on what’s going on with you and our hot boss. Any animalistic sex happening? Because if not, you should get on that, stat.”
Now it was my turn to blush. “Is it really that obvious?”
Amelia nodded emphatically. “Definitely. Especially now that he just camps around at the bar when you’re working.”
He did. Even when I was preoccupied filling back-to-back orders, he took a seat nearby. Sometimes he worked silently on his laptop. When it wasn’t too busy, we chatted. I’d hoped it would look casual. Apparently not.
“Do you think it’s weird?” I asked. “I mean. He is our boss.”
That earned an eye roll. “He’s barely thirty, looks like he eats barbells for breakfast, and is actually a nice guy. It’d be weird if you didn’t want to hit that.”
I laughed, relieved she didn’t judge me. Then again, Amelia was pretty accepting of a range of lifestyles.
“Have you told him about Ryan?” she asked.
I shook my head no. Then I gave the room another nervous look.
“Keeping it casual. I get that,” she said reassuringly.
That was another stab in the gut. There was nothing casual about what was between me and Lucas. The longer I went without telling him, the harder it was to figure out how to break the news. “It may not be that casual,” I admitted.
She offered an inquiring look, silently waiting for me to elaborate. When I didn’t, she shrugged it off and switched to discussing the latest escapades of her cousin-twice-removed—apparently, paragliding was in vogue.
I was thankful Amelia let the conversation drop. It was time to open the Rattler up. I headed behind the bar. Ethan was on shift tonight with me, so I let him know I could cover him tomorrow. And since Amelia was working as well, I let him handle the drink-filling side of the bar. There would be a lot of refills tonight that Amelia had to personally see fulfilled.
Fridays were always busy. Tonight turned out to be no exception. The crowd was a bit more spread out than usual. The dinner crowd gave way to barflies. I hadn’t memorized the face of everyone who regularly came, but could tell there were more new faces than usual. With Lucas's efforts, business had steadily grown the past few weeks even on normally slow nights. Now that we had our newly minted menus, people ordered a range of appetizers even while sitting at the bar.
A longing look at a set of chicken wings made me realize the salad I’d had for lunch hadn’t quite done the trick. I could probably get something small on break, but I felt bad making Ethan cover while we were so busy.
Lucas hadn’t come out to sit at the bar tonight. Every now and again he casually walked by. There wasn’t much time to chat on a night like this, but he managed to communicate without any words at all. One look at me and suddenly my appetite shifted from hunger to lust.
By the end of my shift, many, many hours later, I’d satisfied neither. I’d barely managed a single bathroom break.
It was after three when I started warning people about last call. A couple of folks whined, until Ethan came over and gave them a look. Even in their drunken stupor, they recognized some fights were better left unpicked.
My feet ached. My stomach growled. Exhaustion wore on me like a lead blanket, heavy and slug-like.
Amelia and Ethan had disappeared quickly when the bar closed. The other waitresses followed shortly after. And like so many nights before, it was just me and Lucas. He did his part, sweeping up fallen debris from the evening.
I paused my wiping down the bar, just watching him move the broom back and forth. Methodical, efficient movements, as if he’d spent his life honing the best brooming technique imaginable.
The short sleeves accented his biceps, powerful muscles focused on the gentle technique. I’m not too proud to admit I was staring, my own clean-up efforts abandoned.
The dim lights did nothing to hide his handsome features. I knew them intimately. Even as the years had changed them, the curve of his ear, the sharp line in his jaw… they were familiar. They were mine. I’d never considered myself a possessive person, but when it came to Lucas Northman, my mind growled mine.
Or at least, That’s my boyfriend. A fact it had been gloating about ever since his proclamation was sealed a la Chunky Monkey.
It was weird and I was keeping a secret that made my stomach twist, but somehow the giddiness of being able to say, if only to myself, that this man was mine made it worth it.
He paused mid-stroke and asked in a concerned voice, “Is it alright with you if I stop flexing?”
I shrugged, all faux casualness. “Oh, no need to worry about me. I’m just an unwitting spectator.”
He pulled the broom up straight and crossed his arms over the top, staring at me with a grin. “Spectator? I believe we settled on ‘girlfriend’.”
I tapped my chin as if I didn’t quite remember. “We did say something about that, right? Somehow I’m not seeing the difference between spectating and being your girlfriends. Are there perks? Do I get complimentary tickets for friends to the Lucas Northman Flexing While Sweeping Show? Free popcorn?”
I finished my taunt through peels of laughter because Lucas had come by me and lifted me high (the biceps were flexing but I’ll admit, his forearms really were equally enticing). He placed me gently on one of the tables, my legs wrapping around his waist without another thought.
He pressed his mouth against mine, lightly tormenting me until I opened up to him, silently begging. Then he deepened he kiss, and God, when Luke wanted to kiss, he kissed. He kissed until I was breathless and the butterflies were in full swing and every inch of me felt warm and eager.
“How’s that for girlfriend perks?”
I wanted to tease him back. Instead I was left breathless.
He kissed me again, abandoning the teasing edge and offering me something that said I wasn’t the only one tormented by desire.
“I want you,” I pleaded.
“Me too. I’ve been wanting to kiss my girlfriend all day. Let’s go somewhere.”
I never tired of him calling me that. I smiled against his lips, pressing myself against him once more. “I can’t wait that long.”
He looked at me, question clear.
“Here,” I said. “Or maybe at least away from the windows, unless you’re into that.”
I expected him to laugh, but Luke’s face was serious. “I don’t want anyone else to see you like that.”
His possessive tone sent a thrill straight to my center. “Good thing I’m not much of an exhibitionist. But your girlfriend is impatient.”
I wrapped around him, powerful hands supporting me while I threaded my fingers through his hair. It was just long enough to make me want to pull and tug and indulge every one of my own possessive fantasies.
We crossed the threshold to the office. It really was a threshold. We hadn’t done anything past making out and maybe some light petting here. For some reason I needed the boundary between work, home, and Lucas. A boundary that was impossible to maintain—so maybe it was time to stop trying.
Lucas didn’t bother with the lights, the room dark but not so black I couldn’t se
e the tenderness on his face, mixed with hot desire. Lust wasn’t hard to come by. I was reasonably attractive and worked behind a bar five nights a week. But no one else had eyes like Lucas, not the way he looked at me. It went past desire and into an emotion that I was terrified to name.
Everything about Lucas terrified me. I hadn’t realized how many walls I’d built until he came up and knocked against each one. It made me vulnerable. It made want to run away, and it made me crave him. I fought for us and against us between my heart and my head. I’d try to tell myself I was being stupid or slow, but I wanted all in. Every bit of Lucas.
Even in the darkness, Lucas didn’t fumble. He pinned me to the wall, his body pressing me. My arms overhead, my legs wrapped around. My back was pressed against the wall, no space between us. My hips sat on top of his jeans and I ground against them. He wanted me badly, the evidence unmistakable. I wanted him just as much, loathing the layers between us.
I moved my hips again, trying to hint he should pull down the pants covering my wanting center. I was soaked and ready for him.
“God, I want to be inside you right now,” he groaned.
“Me too,” I begged. “Do it.”
He moved his hands down from my ass and forward. Then kept going until he reached my legs crossed behind him and gently pushed them down.
I blinked.
“There’s something I need to do first.” The way he said it promised the delay was worth the wait.
I stood, still pinned by his massive body. His hands trailed my waist, light and teasing. Without warning, he jerked down, pulling my panties and trousers in one go. The abrupt movement sparked my desire.
He slowly sunk to his knees, my hands still threaded. His descent was as light as before, nuzzling my stomach and thighs. I tried to pull him towards my aching center, but because Lucas lived to torment me, he resisted.
Feeling his mouth against my skin, my inner thighs, was electric. How could a man who should by all rights be a tech geek be so damn seductive?
He pressed a single finger to my entrance, feeling my desire.
“You’re so wet for me.” His voice was laced with wonder, roughened by desire. This slow torture didn’t have me as the only victim.
