“Well, have another drink, get loose and come dance,” her friend continued to shout at her over the music.
I peeked up from washing a couple of glasses below the bar, making eye contact with the loud-mouthed friend of Anessa’s.
“Hey! Can we get another lemon drop and a vodka cranberry?” she screamed, not caring that I was busy.
I made my way closer, pretending I wasn’t eavesdropping. “That will be twenty two dollars,” I yelled back at the friend so she could hear me over the loud music. “You want sugar on the rim again, Babe?” I asked, pointing at Anessa with a wink. Of course she wanted sugar on the rim. She was making out with her martini glass ten minutes ago.
“Yeah,” she replied, licking her lips as if she still had sugar on them.
I groaned as I watched her. That fucking mouth.
“I’m going back out there, Ness, and if you don’t get your ass out there after you finish your drink, I’m pulling your ass out there myself.”
I placed the two drinks on the bar, collected their money and my tip.
“Just go. I’m having fun here watching you all dance. I’m fine. Go, go,” Anessa said as she shooed her friend away.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” I said, counting the money, trying to stall so I could still eavesdrop.
Her friend paused then rolled her eyes. “I’m serious,” she said, walking back to the dance floor, looking at me like I was crazy.
After I put Anessa’s money in the cash register and my tip in the jar, I told my other bartender, Elizabeth—or Bethy as we called her—that I was going on break. You’re probably wondering if Bethy and I have ever hooked up since she’s a girl. To answer your question—yes. But just once. It was mutual and much needed after a stressful night dealing with drunk people and jealous boyfriends and girlfriends.
Avery had been telling me for years that I was hooking up with random chicks just to fill a void. I’m not sure what that void was since Dana and I were already in the process of getting divorced before she passed—divorced because I cheated on her with a handful of chicks. I was pretty sure there was no void. I just liked the feel of my cock being sucked. Each girl had a different technique, and I had yet to find the next right one to do it every day.
Who was I kidding? I wasn’t looking for the next Mrs. Crawford. I was fine with not being with anyone. Sure, I dated a few women, but none were the right one to introduce to Cheyenne, so I was content on putting on my charm to hook-up with women on Friday and Saturday nights…and sometimes on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays when Cheyenne was at school and chicks came into the bar on their lunch breaks.
You’re probably thinking that I’m some sort of jerk and should be thinking of my daughter at home. My daughter doesn’t know what I do while she is sleeping or at school, and I’m careful—most of these women just blow me.
“Why don’t you dance?” I asked when Anessa looked back at the bar.
“Just not my thing,” she shrugged. “This drink’s really good, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I replied as I watched her lick the sugar again, my cock stiffening in my jeans. “Well, I’m going on my break. Want to step out and smoke with me?”
“I don’t smoke,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Neither do I. Want to at least get some fresh air?”
I really don’t smoke. That shit will kill you.
Anessa looked at me curiously then shrugged. “Sure.”
I led her to the back door where the employees took their smoke breaks and got fresh air. It had just snowed an inch, and as I spoke, I saw my warm breath turn to smoke in front of me. “Shit, you’re probably freezing.”
“I’m good. This actually feels really nice. It’s so hot in there.”
“Yeah, it gets that way when it’s packed like sardines,” I said, turning on my smile that most women couldn’t resist.
“How long have you worked here?” she asked, leaning against the brick building.
Anessa had on a sequined black miniskirt with a black sleeveless halter-top style turtleneck blouse and black “fuck me” heels. My mouth watered as I scanned her long legs that were begging to be draped over my shoulders as I licked her warm pussy.
“Since it opened. It’s been about two years now.”
“That’s cool,” she said, looking out to the parking lot like she was a little uncomfortable with small talk.
“Is this your first time coming to Halo?”
“Yeah, my friends dragged me out,” she admitted with a wry smile, her eyes returning to mine.
“Not much of a partier?”
“Not anymore. I…I just broke up with my boyfriend.”
“Ah, so they brought you out to let loose?” I asked, smiling at her again.
“Something like that,” she agreed, smiling in response.
I stepped closer to her, ready to make my move since I didn’t have a lot of time to waste. The bar was packed, and I liked having three bartenders at the bar, but I needed to fulfill my conquest. “You smell good,” I said, nuzzling my nose against her neck.
Anessa laughed. “Is that the best line you’ve got?”
“It’s not a line. You really do smell good.”
She really did.
“Thanks,” she said, blushing and shivering a little beneath me.
“What is it?”
“Delicious by DKNY.”
“I bet you are,” I said, nuzzling her neck again as I took a slight whiff.
She turned her head allowing me to sniff easier. “Is that your best line?”
“Is it working?”
“Maybe a little,” she replied, our bodies flush with each other. I was growing hard in my jeans again, aching for her touch.
I could feel the heat radiating from her center against my thigh, like it was my own personal heater in the cold winter night as it pressed between her parted legs. Leaning back, I looked into her espresso brown eyes, working down to her lips. “I bet you taste like that sugar you were licking off the rim of your glass.”
“Maybe you sho…”
I was right. Sugar still laced her lips as I crushed my mouth into hers, tasting the citron vodka on her tongue and the sweet sugar crystals lingering in her mouth. The kiss started off slow, our tongues gently stroking, tasting each other. My right hand wrapped around her nape, pushing her back as I cushioned her body with my left arm against the brick wall.
A low moan rose from her chest as I devoured her mouth with greed, licking into it and sucking on her tongue more fiercely. She hooked her left leg against my hip, exposing her center under her short skirt, making it clear that she wanted it to be touched as she continued to moan, her hands fisting in my sun-kissed, finger-length dark blonde hair as I ground my hips lightly against her mound.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, pushing against my black t-shirt covered chest. “I shouldn’t do this.”
“Shouldn’t or can’t?” I asked, keeping her leg hooked on my right side.
“Can’t—shouldn’t, fuck I don’t know,” she said, trying to pull her leg from my grasp. I didn’t let go. “I don’t even know you, and I just broke up with my boyfriend.” Her head fell back slightly, and she looked like she was talking to herself in her head.
“You’re single. I don’t see the problem.” I leaned in to capture her lips once more.
Turning her head so I couldn’t kiss her, she continued to protest. “I know, but I don’t know you.”
“Babe, why did you come to the bar?”
“Not to hook-up with a stranger,” she said, laughing sarcastically.
“Okay, but you came to have a good time, right?”
She nodded.
“And you weren’t having a good time, so when I asked you to get some air with me, you said ‘yes’.”
“Yeah, but…”
“And we were just having a good time.”
“Yeah, but I’m not that kinda girl.”
“Alright, well then, my break�
�s over. Want another drink?” I asked, dropping her leg and adjusting myself.
She didn’t reply right away as I walked the few feet to the wooden door of the bar. I gestured for her to follow and she did. I didn’t have time to fuck around with chicks that were being difficult. She clearly wanted me—I could feel it in her kiss—but I could also find another chick if I wanted to.
I grabbed her hand to lead her down the fluorescent-lit hallway, passing a line of people waiting for the restrooms.
“Yeah, I’ll take a vodka cranberry now. Something without sugar on the rim.”
“Way to kick a man when he’s down.” I laughed, clutching my chest with my free hand, making her laugh.
“Sorry, not sure I’ll be able to have sugar on my drinks again, thanks to you.”
I stopped walking, but didn’t reply. She still wanted me, and I just needed to give her time to realize it. Most nights I didn’t like the challenge, but there was just something about Anessa that drew me in. Maybe it was her good girl appeal. But, the way she was dressed, I thought otherwise.
I needed to find out why she was fucking with my head. This girl came to a bar dressed in a mini skirt and fuck me heels, agreed to go out back with a decent looking guy only to put the brakes on? Something wasn’t adding up.
Just as she was about to speak, I started to walk up the stairs to my office on the right with her in tow.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You’re fucking with my head and I want to know why. Usually, I really don’t give a fuck when a girl doesn’t give me the time of day, but I know you wanted to. Why did you stop?” I asked, closing the door behind me.
She stepped in a few feet into the room, looked around quickly at the standard office desk, computer, security monitors—and a couch. Avery and I were men; the office was bare of decorations other than a picture of Cheyenne on the filing cabinet behind the desk.
Deflecting my question, she asked, “Are we going to get in trouble in here?” Nervously, she glanced around the room again and then looked out the one-way mirrors that overlooked the bar.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said, locking the door behind me to prove my point. Like it mattered. I was the boss, and no one was coming in.
I decided not to wait for an answer. I knew she wanted me, and if she stopped me again, I would leave her alone. Reaching up, I cupped her face with my hands, stepped forward and took her lips again. She didn’t back away.
“See, told you that you wanted it,” I joked, breaking the kiss.
“You’re a good kisser.”
“I know.” I smiled against her lips. “So are you.”
I kept stepping forward, directing her until she was sprawled on her back on the plush black leather sofa, my right leg pressed between hers as I straddled her other leg. She arched her back as I ran my hand up her thigh, slipping under her skirt and not stopping.
“Wait,” she said, stilling my hand. I looked down at her swollen lips then up to her eyes. “Tell me your name first.”
“Easton.”
“I’m Anessa.”
“Uh huh,” I said, working my mouth against her throat, my hand still working its way up her thigh.
My hand reached the thin, damp fabric covering her mound. Pushing it aside and wasting no time, I sank two of my fingers into her pussy, causing her to moan and arch her back in response again.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
“Told you that you wanted this,” I said, claiming her mouth again as she rode my fingers.
“Yeah—yeah, I do,” she moaned.
I pumped my fingers faster, in and out of her core that was clenching my fingers on the brink of spasm. She was grinding her hips into my hand, grabbing the back cushion of the couch for support and biting her lip as she enjoyed my fingers.
“Pull your shirt up for me, Babe.”
“I can’t. It’s all part of the dress.”
“Well, it needs to go.”
She wasted no time, sitting up and tossing the black fabric on the floor and laid back on the leather couch in only her black bra and matching thong. “Your turn.”
I stepped out of my jeans, threw my t-shirt on the increasing pile of clothes and then returned to Anessa. I crouched down on my belly on the couch, her legs resting on my shoulders as I moved the thin strip of cotton away from her pussy.
My tongue licked at her folds, causing her head to fall back against the armrest, my dick aching with need for attention, as I thrust my fingers into her soaking pussy again. My tongue licked up her juices from the bottom to the top, stopping on her clit and flicking the nub until she screamed my name.
“Your turn,” I said, motioning to my cock after I pulled my boxers down when I stood up from her limp body.
She looked at me through her post-orgasm high, her face and chest flush with a tint of pink. Licking her lips, she smiled. “Okay,” she responded, then sat up on the couch, taking my dick into her pretty mouth.
Hook, line and sinker.
CHAPTER THREE
Brooke
Monday mornings suck. Period. I never look forward to going to work, especially since my boss is a cheating, pig-headed bastard. He loves drama more than the girls in my office. He’s always in everyone’s business and talking shit behind their back, and he’ll throw anyone under the bus—and has.
You know for a guy, you act like a little bitch!
I woke up as the alarm clock blared in my ear. Jared was already at work, and it felt like I had slept with a boulder under my right shoulder. My arm was still hurting from bowling, and I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like I didn’t go to the gym a few nights a week and was that out of shape.
After a cup of coffee with my favorite Crème Brûlée creamer, I put on black slacks, a purple tank top with ruffles that tied in a bow in the front and a black cardigan to keep warm throughout the day. In the middle of winter, the office building still had their air conditioning blaring, and it never failed that I was always cold.
“Hey, Lucy,” I said, passing her office on the way to mine when I arrived at work.
“Mornin’, Brooke. How was your birthday weekend?”
I sat in a maroon chair in front of Lucy’s desk as I told her the events of my weekend. Nothing was really exciting other than my bowling party and Nicole giving me the cruise ticket. After my day with Nicole, Jared took me to a nice steak dinner and a movie. It was the perfect day, getting to hang out with two of my favorite people. Actually, what could have made it better was to see my sister, but a phone call was just as good.
My mother called me on Sunday—the day after my birthday. I really wasn’t surprised. She explained that she was in Paris with her boyfriend and didn’t realize the time difference. I started to remind her that Paris was almost a day ahead of Boston (not after), but I didn’t bother. It was just one of her excuses, and over the years, I’d heard them all. What was another birthday?
Rubbing my right shoulder blade with a wince, I turned to go back to my office. “Oh, is Mike in, yet?”
“I don’t think so. What’s up with your shoulder?” Lucy asked, brushing her short black hair away from her eyes.
“It’s sore from bowling,” I said, continuing to rub my shoulder and rotate the cuff to try to stretch it out.
“You need to do more kickboxing. Or lift some weights.”
“You’re one to talk.” I laughed.
Lucy was not one to go to the gym. Her working out only consisted of walking her two Boston Terriers. Her Asian genes were working for her. She was a size two, and I wanted to cry every night when I would go home to work out and she would just go home to relax after a long day at work.
“Don’t hate.”
“I do hate you,” I joked with her. “I must have pulled a muscle or something, though,” I said, still rubbing my shoulder blade.
“Why are you asking where Mike is?” Lucy questioned.
“He and Nicole were
getting pretty close on Saturday. I was just wondering if he called her yesterday like he said he would.” I shrugged.
“When you find out, let me know. You know I love drama.”
“I will. Speaking of drama, I better get to work before Ian gets in. What time is he coming in anyway?”
“Probably ten or eleven.”
I rolled my eyes. “Figures.”
I actually preferred Ian not coming in the office. I worked better without him acting like I didn’t have any work to do, and it was peaceful without the boss hovering. I caught up on my emails, grabbed another cup of coffee and proceeded to work on a few cases by preparing legal forms, amongst other things.
We were never short on work, especially when Ian pawned everything off on us. Lucy was one of the attorneys in our office and always picked up the slack for him. I couldn’t count the number of times she had to specially appear for him in court. I wondered why people even hired him as an attorney when he barely did anything.
In the middle of working on a case, I received an instant message from Mike.
Mike: Hey! I thought you were a better bowler than that?
Me: Shut up!
Mike: That ass whoopin’ you dealt was brutal.
Me: Don’t make me come down there and punch you!
Mike: Your bark is better than your bite.
Me: Whatever. Did you call Nicole yesterday?
Mike: How do you know I was supposed to?
Me: Dude, she’s my best friend. I know everything.
Mike: I didn’t.
Me: WTF?
Mike was an attorney like Lucy. Our office was small, and even though he and Lucy were technically my superiors, we all had a friendly relationship. Lucy was supposed to come to my bowling party, too, but something came up with her fiancé, and she wasn’t able to attend. I was thankful that word didn’t get to Ian, because he would have invited himself. He was that type of person, and quite frankly, I hated him.
Mike: I’ll call her tonight.
Tattooed Dots Page 4
