First Shot: A Serial (Shot Serial Book 1)

by Madison Stevens

  For the first time since entering, she could make out all the features of the man. He was built. His muscles shifted under his shirt.

  For one brief moment, she held her breath and stared in awe. The way he moved carried such raw power it captured and held her. He took long strides, and she marveled at the strength behind it.

  One second he was in the room with them, and the next he was through the doors to the back, completely out of sight. She turned, still slightly stunned, and watched as Patrick gave a nod to the pretty blonde who had been working the bar. The woman silently followed out the door after the dark, muscular man.

  “So,” Patrick said, drawing her out of her own thoughts. “How does a pretty woman like you end up walking home alone?”

  She offered him a sad smile. “Well, she’d have to get dumped after the worst day ever.”

  His eyes widened, and she knew his question had been far more lighthearted than her reply.

  “I’m sorry—” he started.

  Jennifer held up a hand. “It’s fine.” She smiled and finished up the last of her wine. “Just need to make some adjustments in my life.” She snorted. It was almost funny how life tended to make those decisions for you.

  She stood and felt herself sway just a little. Perhaps she was letting the wine get to her.

  “I think I should use your restroom now,” she said and waved a hand at her dress. “Maybe I can try and fix this.”

  Patrick relaxed, and she wondered if he was worried. It seemed so odd that a stranger would care more about her bad day than the man she was with for a year.

  “It’s just down the hall,” he said and pointed behind her.

  She carefully made her way across the room. Her foot still hurt, but it didn’t seem to be sprained, just a little sore.

  Jennifer took in the bar around her. It wasn’t like most of the places she had visited. Usually, the music was too loud or the place would be packed from wall to wall with writhing bodies. Her parents weren’t one for places like that, and Charles had been more of a fine dining and club sort. It really depended on what his clients asked.

  She shook her head. All this time she had just been following along, but in the end, she really wasn’t like that at all.

  She turned and caught her reflection in the mirror along the back of the bar. Her long brown hair and full lips seemed more pronounced somehow. Or maybe she never spent much time questioning her appearance. Was everything about her changed for him? The thought chilled her, and she let it slip away.

  Looking away, she kept her focus on the interior. The boards from earlier sat piled up in the corner, and she wondered if they were doing work on the place. She would guess so. Although the place had a charm about it, there were spots that had a little less charm than others. Worn down was her being nice.

  However, she could see how it might do well. She could certainly see the place’s potential.

  As she thought about how she’d market the bar, her mind drifted. It was a long shot, and who knew it Patrick would even go for it? He seemed nice enough. Maybe he would take pity on her.

  The bar slipped out of sight as she followed the hall to the bathrooms. She stopped when a noise to her left caught her attention. It was a door into the back area. She could see the brooding man from before. His back was to her, and he was hunched over the table. The pretty bartender hovered over him.

  “You can’t keep doing this, Eric,” the blonde said quietly.

  He gave a hollow laugh that chilled Jennifer to the bone.

  “You really going to give me that line right now?” He turned to look at the woman.

  It was the first time Jennifer could see his face. She had assumed that he was handsome but never like this. If it weren’t for his furrowed brow, he could easily be one of the most attractive men she had seen.

  She frowned when she realized he was having trouble focusing on the woman.

  “I know,” the woman said and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  He shrugged it off and stood.

  “No,” he said quietly. The cold steel in his voice cut through the air like a knife. “You don’t have any fucking idea.”

  The woman looked stunned. As if he’d just slapped her. And maybe he had with the force of his words.

  “Asshole,” the blonde whispered and tore through the door that led to the bar.

  Breathing slowly, Jennifer tried to calm herself but froze when his gaze shot over to her. This wasn’t something she was meant to hear, and yet here she was.

  He took a step forward, and she fled. The bathroom was just a few steps down the hall. She stepped in and flicked the lock. Jennifer leaned against the door and sighed. This was silly. He wasn’t going to follow her.

  She walked to the mirror and stared at her reflection. He certainly wasn’t going to chase her if she was looking like this.

  After grabbing a few paper towels, she started in on the mess that was now her dress. Even with taking it to a dry cleaner, it still didn’t seem to have much a chance. Wine was one thing, but given the grime from the sidewalk, combined with a few minor tears, she wasn’t going to come out ahead.

  Quickly, she tried to right the day’s wrong as best she could.

  After a few minutes of scrubbing, she tossed the towel in the trash.

  There was no use. She looked in the mirror again. The wine had turned to a deep pink on the cream dress. A few tears marred the front and side when she’d fallen. Jennifer looked down to her hands and winced. They were slightly red from the fall and scraped up.

  She sighed. Pretty much everything about this day was a wash. At this point, the best thing she could do was get home and start tomorrow over. If she was lucky, there would be a job out there for her. Maybe she could even get Patrick on board with something if she could put together a good enough presentation.

  With a sigh, she opened the door and stepped into the dark hall. A hand reached out of nowhere and slammed against the wall by her head. Jennifer gasped and pressed herself hard against the wall in an effort to get away.

  “Like watching people?” Eric said and leaned real close, so close she could smell the hard alcohol on his breath.

  She wondered how much he’d had to drink.

  “I didn’t mean,” she stammered.

  It was hard to think when he was pressing in so close. The sexual energy crackled in the air, and she wondered just what it was about him. She should have been mad but couldn’t seem to muster up the feeling.

  “What is it with people like you?” He sneered at her, and she frowned. “Think you’re better than everyone else. Well, you aren’t.”

  Her mouth fell open in shock. That wasn’t what she had been expecting.

  “What?” she managed.

  He laughed, and the air rustled the hair around her face.

  “You people come in here and think that the rest of us are beneath you,” he said. His deep brown eyes were fixed on hers, and when he leaned in a bit more, she shuddered at the warmth from his body. Just barely touching her, the senses that surrounded her engulfed her thoughts.

  Eyes half closed, she watched him. His mouth turned into a smooth smile, and she felt her body tighten at the gesture. She jumped when he pressed in, pinning her body between him and against the wall.

  “I’m beneath you, but you don’t seem to mind this,” he said. His mouth was dangerously close to hers. She licked her lips.

  “I don’t…” she started but stopped when he pressed in harder.

  “You don’t?” he whispered. His lips brushed hers, and she took in a shuddered breath.

  “I… uh…” she said and glanced down.

  “Yeah,” he urged. A smile seemed to play on the corner of his mouth, despite the way he was talking.

  She stalled. Nothing in her brain seemed to work like it was supposed to. All she could think about was how close he was to her and how exciting it was. Every warning bell in her head was going off, and she didn’t seem to care.

  �
��Fuck it,” he groaned and pressed his lips firmly to hers. They were warm and soft. His stubble scratched her face, and she wondered why turned her on so much. Everything about this was wrong, but she couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped.

  Not waiting for whatever permission she might give, he slipped his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened to him. His mouth moved over hers, boldly taking whatever she might give.

  She placed her hands against his hard chest to push him away but couldn’t make them obey the last rational thought in her head.

  Everything slipped from her mind when he moved his hand from behind her head, slowly down her back, not stopping until he was cupping her ass.

  He groaned into her mouth and pulled her lower half forward hard against him. She could feel his hard length and shivered at the rawness of it all. Never had she felt such an animalistic urge to pull off her clothes and open herself to someone, let alone a stranger.

  She pulled back sharply when a glass broke out front. His eyes still blazed at her, and she could feel his unyielding hand still on her ass.

  “I don’t think—” she started but stopped when a dark look swept over him.

  He pushed away, and despite the fact that she knew he was a stranger, there was an emptiness where he had been.

  “Not worth it,” he ground out. Jennifer winced.

  She watched in shock as he quickly made his escape to the front.

  “What the hell just happened?” she whispered to herself.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. This was not her. This was not something that she did.

  Her fingers came up to her lips, and she ran them gently over the tender skin. She should be angry. Kissing her like that. But she wasn’t. If anything, she wanted more. Something in her ached for whatever he was giving.

  Her hand dropped to her side, and she huffed. Not worth it. That wasn’t the story his pants were telling. Judging by that, she was more than worth it.

  Jennifer’s eyes snapped open, and she shook her head. Whatever had happened couldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it. There was enough to worry about without adding some walking ego with a penis. Been there, done that. She wasn’t worth it? Hardly, but he certainly wasn’t. Even if he was oozing sex appeal.

  Her heart thumped in her chest as she thought about that appeal. It was certainly there tenfold.

  Jennifer opened the bathroom door again. Maybe in a few more minutes she’d calm down.

  Chapter Three

  What had he been thinking? Well, it was clear he hadn’t, or the shit would have never happened. But he couldn’t just ignore her looks. Hell, even Patrick seemed to notice.

  Eric downed another shot. He’d lost count again, but what the fuck did it matter? With Patrick around, he was good.

  He licked his lips and could still taste her sweet mouth. She’d seemed so dainty. He wanted nothing more than to mess that up, become a twist of hot sticky bodies, each pushing for their release. His cock throbbed in agreement. She was just what he wanted. Too bad there was no way he could.

  Crystal slammed another shot on the table in front of him.

  “You’re an ass,” the blond woman said and picked up the empty shot glass.

  He really was. Too bad she didn’t know what an ass he really could be. Maybe then she’d just quit trying with him.

  The leggy brunette walked in from the hall with all her curves and long brown hair that had been making him crazy for the past hour.

  Her eyes went to his, and he felt the heat from before. He looked away. There was no way he was going down that road. He knew what would happen. The muscles in his jaw ticked as he thought it over.

  Eric picked up the new shot and slammed it back. The harsh whiskey burned as it went down.

  Patrick shook his head, and Eric clenched his eyes shut, so he wouldn’t have to see the disdain written on his friends face from across the room. Sometimes it wasn’t enough, and today was one of those days.

  What did Crystal and Patrick know? It wasn’t like he planned this. He’d had something else in mind, but that hadn’t seemed to matter. In the end he got fucked, and the world just seemed to move on around him. The world didn’t give a fuck, so why should he?

  He opened his eyes and watched as the brunette sat down next to Patrick. Anger fueled by the whiskey coursed through him. She was supposed to leave. She’d been driving him crazy. All he wanted her to do was grab her stuff and walk out the door. One less temptation in his life.

  Instead, she stared defiantly at him. Eric ground his teeth when she touched Patrick’s arm and laughed. Much longer watching this, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to handle it.

  Eric caught Crystal staring at him from the bar. He raised his glass for another shot, and she frowned. Maybe if he just kept drinking, he’d actually ebb the ache. It hadn’t worked thus far, but that didn’t mean he was willing to give up.

  Jennifer saw him as she sat back in her chair. His face was hard and cold. Whatever had happened before now seemed so distant when looking at him. A chill ran through her, and she wondered just what he had been thinking. Maybe he’d drank enough that anything sounded good. She pulled her attention from him and focused on Patrick. Much nicer and easily understood.

  “I’m sorry, but your ex sounds like a dick,” he said suddenly.

  She snorted loudly.

  And blunt. Patrick seemed blunt beyond words. The people she knew didn’t say things like that. Actually, they went out of their way not to say those sorts of things, even if it meant being an bigger ass.

  “I think some people might agree.” She smiled.

  His grin dropped slightly as she spoke. “You aren’t one of those people, are you?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t know what she was anymore. “Maybe,” she sighed and watched as he tried to hide his disappointment. “Up until a few hours ago I was calling him the love of my life.”

  Her heart twisted a little. It hurt more now than it had before. Maybe there was more to it than she thought. Walking away from a relationship wasn’t something she was used to.

  “Well,” Patrick said and took her hand. “I think you deserve better.”

  She gave a weak smile and shook her head.

  “I think what I really need is a job,” she said quietly. “Need a marketer?”

  A loud bang in the corner made her flinch. She slipped her hand from Patrick’s and looked around. Eric sat glaring at them from the corner, the gleam of an empty shot glass still in hand.

  Her pulse hammered in her ears, and she felt the blood rush to her face as a wave of heat came over her. This was not a man she wanted to get tied up with.

  “Maybe we could use some help here,” Patrick said.

  Her head whipped around so fast, the room spun for a moment.

  “Really?”

  He was staring off behind her, and she felt her stomach twist.

  “Eric is the one in charge of that sort of thing,” he said with a shrug.

  “Eric?” The smile on her face slipped as she processed what he was saying.

  Patrick nodded his head. She had a feeling he knew what had happened earlier. The look of pity in his eyes was nearly too much, and she knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  “I’m really the silent partner,” he said with a nod toward Eric. “He’s the person you’d need to see if you want a job.”

  “Thanks,” she said and stood.

  Jennifer looked over to Eric. He was sitting, still watching her. She didn’t need this drama right now. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had enough today.

  She turned to the door. It would really be best if she just got her things together and walked away.

  Uncertainty gnawed at her as she looked around. The bar really could use some marketing. It was nice inside, and yet on a Friday night, there wasn’t hardly a soul in the place.

  Not really knowing what she was doing, her body turned, and she was marching across the room to
him.

  She shook her head. This was a mistake, but what the hell else was she going to do? They needed her, and she needed a job.

  When she reached the table, she waited for him to look up at her.

  She stood in silence until, at last, he looked up.

  “You need something?” he asked. She could hear the smirk in his voice even if it didn’t translate over onto his face.

  She straightened herself up.

  “Actually, you need something,” she said. Number one rule in getting a job, confidence. Or in her case, fake it till you make it.

  He raised a brow, and she tried not to study his strong features, especially his demanding lips. She licked her lips at the thought.

  “Oh?” he said. His eyes were focused hard on her mouth.

  She nodded and moved forward a little. “You need me to put this place on the map.”

  He gave a dry, laugh, and it was about as she had expected.

  “Don’t think that’s what I need.”

  She ignored his double entendre.

  “Oh, I think it is,” she said. “Or you wouldn’t be fixing the place up.”

  He stood, and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing.

  “Patrick is fixing the place up,” he said and leaned forward, so he was just a foot from her face. “I think we both know what I need.”

  Her back stiffened as his breath swept over her. She could feel her nipples tighten and cursed the need that pulled her to him. Jennifer clenched her fists as she reigned in her arousal. She leaned forward to match him, a smile on her face.

  “I do know what you need,” she said sweetly. “You need about forty-eight hours to sober up.”

  His eyes flashed with anger, and she knew she had struck a chord. He opened his mouth to say something back, but she hurried on.

  “I can make something of this place,” she said quickly.

  He glanced behind her, and she hoped that Patrick was behind her giving a thumbs up.

  “I can’t say that I think we need marketing help,” he said, and she felt her heart fall. “But I could use a waitress.”

  She tried not to wrinkle her nose, but all those years in school just to start waiting tables? It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it, but why get the degree if it was going to end this way?