His Sloe Screw: The Cocktail Girls

by Alexandria Hunt

  I managed to shuffle through the rest of my shift as if I was sleepwalking, and when the time came for Hatch to finish up and for him to claim that dinner I owed him, I felt almost sick to my stomach, it was flip flopping so hard.

  I told the other bartenders I was leaving and crossed the club as nonchalantly as possible. Every cell in my body was vibrating with anticipation as I made my way to the back room and found Hatch bent over the cedar bar, sanding it lovingly, carefully, and covered in wood dust.

  He didn’t see me at first and I watched the way he caressed the wood and my body responded, my center heating up and warmth spreading outward from there.

  He finally realized I was standing behind him, he stood and turned around and I almost gasped at how stunning he looked. The wood dust clung to him, and as he pushed his safety glasses up off his face, I was struck with how incredibly masculine he was.

  He was blue collar, through and through, and there was something so completely and utterly sexy about it that I was mesmerized by his every movement.

  I’d always dated guys who worked for my dad, or guys from college, or even out of towners here in Vegas, but they were all pretty boys. They were the kind of men who had soft hands and pedicured feet stuffed into thousand dollar pairs of shoes and bloated with their parent’s trust funds.

  Hatch earned every dime he had, and my god, that was fucking hot.

  “Hey kitten,” he said in a low tone and gave me a lopsided smile as he wiped his hands on a cloth hanging from a belt loop in his jeans.

  “Hey,” I replied, my throat closing.

  “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Really? What were you thinking about?”

  He shook the cloth and dropped it on the surface of the cedar plank, crossed the room to stand in front of me. I was silent, I couldn’t even breathe.

  “This,” he said and bent to kiss me.

  I could suddenly breathe again, and I inhaled his scent, the smell of cedar and maleness mixed intoxicatingly as he crushed me with his mouth.

  And I had to admit to myself that this was exactly what I’d been thinking about since I’d seen him before.

  This, his mouth, his hands, and everything it was leading us towards.

  Our bodies entwined, together in exploration and pleasure.

  11

  Hatch

  God, I wanted her badly.

  I wanted to shove all my tools off the cedar bar top and take her right then and there. To christen it in our names, with our passion.

  But I held back. I wanted her to be more than a quick fuck. I wanted more than a one night stand.

  I wanted her. For a long time. As my partner, my love, maybe even my wife.

  I couldn’t tell her that, she was a flighty woman who would run at the smallest hint of my desire to possess her. I had to take it slow for her, ease her into the idea that she would belong to me or else risk losing her for good.

  But my god, I wanted her badly. She made every nerve ending light up with electric current, desire and lust sparked along my limbs, heightening my senses and making my attraction almost animalistic.

  It was like breathing, something I didn’t control. I might hold my breath, but my body would fight for air. I could pretend I didn’t want Kitty as my woman, but my heart would demand I take action eventually.

  It was breathing, my heart inhaling her like my lungs inhaling oxygen.

  There was no denying it, and eventually I would have her.

  I was a patient man, I could take my time.

  But my god, it fucking hurt. It hurt to break apart our kiss, cup her face in my hands and tell her, “We should go for dinner.”

  She blinked slowly as it dawned on her, my mouth was off hers and I was standing with enough distance between us that I wasn’t tempted to rub my aching cock against her.

  “Dinner,” she replied woodenly, looking me up and down. “Yes, dinner. We need it. Let’s go.”

  “I made reservations at a fancy little food truck a little off the beaten path,” I told her. “If we don’t make it, we’ll have to wait.”

  She raised a single eyebrow. “A food truck? Fancy?”

  I chuckled. “You found me out. Okay, it’s a food truck, no reservations needed but I hear if you don’t get there by ten they run out of salsa.”

  “Mexican? I’m in,” she replied with a grin as she caught on that I’d just applied the brakes to our hot and heavy make out session.

  I took her hand and we slipped out the employee’s entrance to the club, through the back and down a long hallway. I used my pass to the underground parking garage and took a flight of stairs down to where my old beat up truck would be waiting.

  Her hand in mine was hot, burning where our bodies touched, our mutual desires flowing from my body to hers and back again.

  I wondered if she could feel the humming sensation of sexual interest like I could. One glance at her fiery eyes and I knew she did.

  I stopped next to my truck and she laughed. “I forgot you drove this thing.”

  “Will it be a problem for you, princess?”

  “No, I just took you for a big loud Harley bike, you know?”

  “I had one, but I’m trying out big loud old pick up trucks on for size these days.”

  “Any reason why?”

  “Plenty of reasons.”

  “You gonna tell me?”

  “I will,” I replied and opened the door for her. “Eventually. I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

  “That sounds intriguing.”

  “Not as intriguing as you,” I said, winked and shut the door to walk around to my side.

  And I had to give it to her, she rode in my bumpy, rusted old truck like royalty in her expensive boots and beautiful dress. She laughed at my stupid jokes and she even seemed to relax a little when I reached for her hand at the food truck.

  We ordered our food and I raised my brows at the large burrito with extra guac and sour cream.

  “A woman after my heart,” I said as we sat down at a table in the parking lot near the food truck.

  “Why’s that?”

  “You like to eat. I like that.”

  “Ahhh, you mean I’m not one of those shrinking violets who pretends she lives on air and then pigs out the minute she gets home.”

  She laughed and tore into her burrito the moment she opened the wrapper.

  “Exactly. You know if a woman isn’t too shy to eat in front of you then she’s not going to be too shy to really let go when you’re eating her.”

  She swallowed hard and looked at me with a curious hunger on her face. And it wasn’t just the burrito.

  Her hunger sparked something in me and like that I was achingly hard again, rock fucking hard for her. My god, she was perfect and I wanted her so badly I couldn’t catch my breath.

  It had started out as a half serious light hearted joke, but the moment I saw that hunger in her eyes, my words became deadly real.

  I wanted to taste her, not her mouth, but her body.

  I craved her.

  Fuck the food truck tacos, I needed her.

  “Should we pack this up to go?” I asked, indicating our orders.

  “Uh, sure,” she replied and took a long draw on her beer, washing whatever food she had in her mouth down.

  She finished up as I packed for us and we practically ran back to my pickup, her hand in mine, and only one thing on our minds.

  We were going to take it all the way tonight.

  I was going to have her any way I could.

  We got in and I realized the truck was in the darkest corner of the parking lot, well away from everyone gathered around the street food. The sounds of mariachi guitars and people laughing floated across the distance to us, and I couldn’t help myself.

  I set the bags of Mexican on the dash board and leaned across the seat to her, kissed her, tasted the beer on her lips, and dropped my hands to her lap.

  Her dress eased up to her hips like it was a liv
ing entity determined to expose her sweet cunt to me. I kissed her hard, hooked my thumb on her panties and dragged them down. She shifted and adjusted her body to accommodate my burning desire.

  When her pussy was open to me, I dipped low and explored her at last.

  She was shaved, her skin silky smooth and hot to the touch. I ran my tongue along her thigh to the plain of her hip, to the curve of her cunt, to her dripping slit.

  And at last, I tasted my sweet girl, my kitten.

  “Oh fuck, yes,” she moaned and ran her fingers through my hair. “Hatch…god…what are you doing?”

  I slid my tongue along her cleft, drinking her in, and paused to look up and said, “I’m taking what’s mine. I’m testing my theory, kitten. Let go, let me eat your pussy and make you feel so damned good you can’t help but say my name.”

  “I guess dinner is served,” she said with a sly grin, leaned back and spread her thighs wide for me.

  I dove in, my mouth sucking her cunt, my tongue probing her clit, and my fingers fucking her tight, sopping wet heat until I got exactly what I wanted.

  Just outside the light of the food truck, I ate her pussy until the only thing she could do was sob my name over and over and hang onto my hair like I was the only thing saving her life.

  And in a way, she was saving mine.

  Finding my kitten was the best thing that had happened to me since getting out of prison, and claiming her as my woman was going to keep me grounded and make my life whole again.

  I just had to keep myself from going insane until I could finally drain my balls deep inside of her, filling her with my seed and marking my territory at last.

  12

  Kitty

  I thrashed my head back and forth and didn’t know if I was ever going to feel the same way again.

  My big biker had changed me.

  He devoured me in the front of his old truck, there on the seat with people laughing and enjoying their late night dinners. He devoured my pussy and I didn’t do a thing to stop him, I couldn’t stop him.

  The insane attraction I had for him was beyond my control, beyond forces and beyond anything I had the power to deal with. It would be like trying to stop a bolt of lightning or a windstorm.

  Oh god, it was so shameless but I couldn’t stop him even if I wanted to.

  And I didn’t want to.

  There was no way for me to push his mouth off of me, to close my legs to him, to tell him no.

  Even if I’d been able to manage forming the word somewhere in the depths of my mind, even if no had been something I could comprehend in the midst of my sexual tornado, I wouldn’t have uttered it.

  The only word that managed to make it across my tongue, over my lips, spilling from my mouth was, “Hatch.”

  I said his name over and over until I climaxed, hitting a crescendo of orgasmic exultation, my body quivering and exploding in response to his attentions.

  Afterwards I closed my eyes and let the tension drain from my limbs. The anticipation and frustration and all of the last few days of need were released when I came and I was left drained of all energy.

  “My beautiful kitten,” he growled with pride and nibbled the inside of my thigh. “My gorgeous, perfect kitten.”

  He kissed his way up my body and back to my mouth, our lips and tongues joining as if one, my taste heavy between us.

  I could smell myself on his skin and it turned me on. I could taste myself on his tongue and it drove me wild with desire.

  Everything about Hatch drove me wild with desire, it was beyond anything I’d ever experienced and it fucking terrified me.

  I was always the girl who kept it together, stayed in control in every relationship or sexual encounter I’d ever had. I was brash, a tough talker, and my father’s daughter all the way when it came to power.

  As in I never gave mine up. Ever. Even when supposedly capitulating to my father’s demands, I was in charge. I had a plan.

  But Hatch…oh god damn, Hatch.

  Power with him oozed from his pores, his sexy swagger told everyone within a ten mile radius that he took no shit, and the fact that he could have me spread out like a common whore with just a couple tugs on my panties meant that he had all of it in this situation.

  And the strangest thing of all?

  I loved it. I felt free. Not overthinking my feelings with Hatch was the most freeing thing of all.

  And it wasn’t even necessarily that he was in control, it was if fate was in control…as if we were both caught up in something bigger than both of us, a force of nature that was behind the feelings that were growing between us.

  He broke apart from the kiss, wrapped his hand in my hair and stared into my eyes. The light from the parking lot near the taco truck illuminated his face, making him seem intense and almost feral.

  It turned my insides to jelly, made my stomach quiver in anticipation at the hunger in his eyes.

  “You are mine,” he said at last. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t growl or posture, he stated it simply as if it were just a fact.

  My first instinct was to struggle against him, deny him, tell him he was being ridiculous, but he wasn’t.

  I believed him when he said it.

  I believed him because I felt it.

  I exhaled and relaxed in his arms. “I know,” I replied and closed my eyes.

  And I did know it. I felt it. I couldn’t deny it.

  Something had happened between us and something even greater was going to happen.

  I wanted to be his, I wanted to belong to him.

  In fact, I already did.

  “I need to feel you, kitten. Let’s go.” His urgency lent his voice an edge that told me he wasn’t kidding around. His need was as great as mine, if not greater.

  “Can we go back to your place?”

  “I’m staying with a friend. How about your place?”

  “I live with my dad at the Millennium. It might be hard to sneak you past him.”

  “You’re not ready to introduce me to dear old dad?” He grinned, a lopsided smile that almost made me say fuck it and take him back to bring him in front of Las Vegas’s biggest mob boss, my father.

  But even though Hatch was a biker and kind of a bad ass himself, I was nervous about bringing him into my world. My father liked slick, slime ball men. He’d always imagined marrying me off to some underworld prince, like I was royalty and we were looking to join our countries.

  But I had different ideas, I always had. Sure I’d dated some of the men from my world, but I’d always pushed them around and had always let them know from the get go that I wasn’t easily hurt, if at all.

  Even the couple times crime boss’s sons had gotten rough with me and used their hands on me had ended with them getting a well-placed stiletto to the balls or a fist in their face.

  I wasn’t the girl you fucked around with, or on, and I wouldn’t tolerate much at all.

  But Hatch.

  God damned, Hatch.

  He was different. I wasn’t embarrassed by him at all. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He wasn’t slick, he obviously hadn’t come from money, and he obviously wasn’t a slime ball.

  He was rough around the edges, a little gruff and brooding and more than a little mysterious.

  And hot. My god, he was hot. He was like that guy who played the barbarian on that show about dragons…but even better because he was in real life and right in front of me.

  What worried me about him meeting my father was actually dear old dad.

  My father liked control and he liked power, and I knew he’d make a play to control Hatch the moment he realized how much the renegade biker dude with the big muscles and the old pickup truck meant to me.

  And that meant for the first time in my life, my father would have something on me. I would have a weak spot.

  Hatch was my power, he was my strength, but in the world of underworld crime he was also my weakness.

  “I would love for you to meet my father
, but not now. Not yet. Not until you understand more about me.”

  He raised his eyebrows at that. “It seems we both have things we need to tell each other. But fuck the words for now, I want to fuck you, kitten. I want you. Your taste is driving me half mad already and I need to bury myself so deep inside your cunt we don’t know where our bodies end or begin.”

  My heart literally skipped a beat and I stopped breathing at his declaration. I wanted him so bad, but not here, not in the truck. I wanted to stretch out next to his massive, muscled frame and climb him like a mountain range. I wanted to ride him like a bull. I wanted to have our bodies entwined while we slept.

  “Can we sneak into your friend’s place?” I asked, giving him a cocky grin of my own. “I promise to be quiet.”

  “There’s no way you’ll be able to keep quiet when I’m pounding into your tight little pussy,” he chuckled and stroked his chin. “Yeah, fuck it. Let’s go to my friend’s place. If we knock a couple walls down, I’ll build Brady new ones.”

  “Sounds good to me, I might even help. I’d probably look good with one of those tool belts on.”

  “As long as it’s just the tool belt, although I have a feeling you’d look good in any damned thing.”

  I laughed and took his hand as he slid over behind the wheel. He tugged me over to sit next to him and drove with one hand around my shoulder the entire way.

  We ended up out in one of the endless suburbs that surrounded the city, but I didn’t care. As long as I was with Hatch and as long as he wanted me as his woman, he could take me to hell and back for all it mattered.

  Even hell would be a better place than anywhere else without him.

  13

  Hatch

  “You might want to turn up the volume on your TV,” I told Brady as we came through the front door.

  Kitty kicked off her heels and dropped down a few inches making her seem even smaller and more delicate in front of my towering height.