The Bartender (Modern Love World)

by Piper Rayne

  “I know what you’re thinking and don’t worry.” He brushes a hand over my hair. “I’m not going to take you anywhere Chase and Tahlia would ever dare to go.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Cole. I’ll be fine.” After a few pints of Ben & Jerry’s buried in a bottle of wine.

  “I know I don’t have to, I want to.”

  As depressed as I am, I wouldn’t mind some wooing right now. “Okay then.”

  He leans down and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. Sparky barks and begins tugging on his leash again. That dog has no appreciation for public displays of affection.

  “All right, little guy. Cool your jets.”

  We continue through the park, hand in hand, and though the disappointment of not getting the job eats away at me, the pain is tempered, at least in part, by the company I keep.

  From the moment we arrived down at the Pier, Cole made me promise to keep my eyes closed and led me by hand to our destination. The sound of people wandering past filters into my ears as I stand here, positioned just so by Cole, his hands covering my eyes from behind me.

  “Promise you won’t laugh,” Cole says as he slides his hands away from my eyes.

  I blink for a second, adjusting my eyesight to the scene before me.

  “A maze of mirrors…” I smile slowly.

  “I thought you could use some fun to get your mind off everything.”

  The job. He means the job, because besides Cole himself that’s the only thing I’ve been able to focus on these past few days—the fact that I let the job of my dreams somehow slip through my hands.

  “I never would have guessed this.”

  “That was the point.” He leans down and kisses me before taking my hand to lead me inside the building.

  Loud music is playing inside, some newer song I’ve heard on the radio a few times. The carpet on the floor has a crazy pattern made up of black, blue, red, and yellow and a fresh-faced teenage girl stands behind the counter smiling over at us.

  “Welcome to the Maze of Mirrors,” she says and we make our way over to her.

  “Hi there. I’m Cole Webber.”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Webber. We’ve been expecting you.” The way she smiles at Cole all dreamy-eyed tells me he’ll be a focal point of her diary entry tonight. I stifle a chuckle so as not to embarrass her.

  “I should already be paid up. I took care of everything over the phone with the manager.”

  “You are. The place is all yours.”

  I give Cole a questioning look.

  “I may not be my brother, but I know when to use my money and influence for good,” he says and leans in closer to my ear so that only I can hear him over the music pumping out of the overhead speakers. “And if it means using it to rent this place out to ourselves so that I can get you alone instead of being surrounded by a hundred shithead teenagers, I’m gonna do it.”

  He pulls back and my heated stare meets his. We each take in the promise of what it is we’d like to be doing to the other one right now.

  “The lockers are to your right if you’d like to put your jackets in there, Mr. Webber.”

  We both turn our attention to the young girl and a giggle escapes my lips at how she keeps calling him Mr. Webber. I’m not sure why I find it so funny, but it just doesn’t suit the man I’ve come to know.

  He helps me off with my coat and puts both of ours in the rented locker and comes to stand beside me, taking my hand in his. This small gesture fills me with a warmth and security that I don’t want to examine too much.

  “What’s the fastest anyone has ever made it out of the maze?” Cole asks.

  “Twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds,” she says. Her chin is nudged up a bit and her chest is puffed out as if she’s very proud that she knows this information.

  “Shall we see if we can beat that?” Cole asks with a grin.

  “Definitely.”

  He begins to direct me toward the door that says ‘Entry’ above it and the young girl calls out behind us, “Have fun, Mr. Webber.”

  I full-on laugh this time as we push through the swinging doors. On the other side the music is just as loud but it’s much darker and strobe lights flicker every so often. There’s what appears to be thousands of arched columns ahead with mirrors between them and reflections of us from all different angles appear in all the glass.

  “What are you laughing at?” Cole asks over the music.

  “At that smitten kitten out there calling you Mr. Webber.”

  He pulls me into him and I immediately heat at the feeling of his hard body pressed into my soft curves.

  “It’s my name, isn’t it?”

  I nod. “But somehow it doesn’t really fit. I’ve heard people call your brother Mr. Webber before and thought nothing of it, but it seems almost comical to hear someone refer to you that way.”

  Cole tilts his head a bit, and places his thumb on my bottom lip. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “Good.” I push up on my tippy toes and place a kiss on his lips. “It was meant as one.”

  He grins. “As long as we’re clear.”

  “Are we going to conquer this bad boy? We’d better get going if we’re going to beat the record.”

  Almost reluctantly he pulls away, takes my hand once again, and we head into the insanity to see if we can navigate our way out.

  We don’t hold hands for long. You need both of your hands out in front of you, as Cole discovers when he walks head first into what we thought was empty space between columns, but is really a mirror.

  The maze is so disorienting. It’s hard to know what’s real and what’s not and it’s near impossible to keep track of which way you’ve come and which direction you’re heading. It reminds me a lot of my life lately.

  Everywhere you look there appears to be more than one of us. We can see ourselves from so many different angles and I’ve been taking full advantage—watching on as Cole’s expressions change, the way the muscles in his arms bunch and flex under the fabric of his thin, maroon Henley shirt, how his ass moves when he takes a step forward. Being able to see all that multiple times from multiple angles without him knowing has been amazing.

  In fact, it’s got me wanting to do things that seem more up Lennon’s alley, but something about this man makes me lose my inhibitions and throw aside the part of me intent on self-preservation.

  “Another dead end.” Cole laughs.

  Instead of turning back and heading the way we came, I don’t move when Cole turns around from the sheet of glass in front of him to face me. Rather, this time I nudge his shoulders until his back is pressed up against the glass.

  His expression looks bemused until he registers the heat in my gaze. Without a word, I circle his neck with my arms and drag his face down to mine.

  Our tongues meet in a passion-filled clash of primal instinct, and after a minute it feels as if my lips are bruised. Not in a painful way, but in a way that assures I’ll be reliving this moment for days.

  I snake my hand down Cole’s body until I’m gripping his hard length pressing through his jeans. He groans into my mouth and my knees weaken. I close our kiss, knowing if I don’t stop, I’ll miss my opportunity, and then I drop to my knees in front of him.

  I tilt my head up and look at him through my lashes. His chest is heavy with his efforts at breathing. “What are you doing?” He’s loud enough so I can hear him over the music.

  I raise a brow. “Exactly what you’re hoping I’m doing.”

  My eyes never veer away from him as I undo his belt buckle, the button on his jeans, and then pull the zipper down. His large cock is straining the cotton of his white boxer briefs. When I pull the elastic down a bit his cock springs free and I arrange his underwear so it sits tucked under his balls.

  Since I first saw his cock I’ve wondered what Cole tasted like. I’ve imagined the way his hands would thread into my hair when I sealed my lips around the head. How he’d moan when he breached the back o
f my throat.

  I’m about to rock his world and cement myself in his memory for an eternity. Sometimes it pays to have a friend like Lennon—you inevitably learn some skills just by listening to her absurd stories.

  I lick my lips as I lean forward. My tongue traces lightly across his mushroom tip where a bead of pre-cum awaits. He sucks in a breath and holds it in for a moment, but once my tongue is back in my mouth, a slow stream of air flows out of his mouth.

  Leaning in again, this time I run my tongue from the base of his length all the way to the top and back down the other side. Cole pushes his hands into my hair, and I raise my gaze to meet his. It’s dark in here, but I can still see that his hazel eyes are heavy-lidded with lust, and his mouth hangs open.

  I continue licking him all over again and again until his entire cock is wet with my saliva. I grip the bottom of his shaft with one hand and then lower my mouth to suck one of his balls in past my lips. Cole’s hands twitch in my hair and grip the strands harder. Moans float out of his mouth while I suck gently and stroke up and down his length, twisting my hand near the top. His head thumps against the mirror behind him and he squeezes his eyes shut. His chest is rising and falling in an erratic rhythm and I’ve never been as high as I am right now from being the one who is unraveling him.

  The power to drive him crazy makes me wild, horny, and needy. My nipples could cut granite and my clit is throbbing, begging for attention.

  Right when Cole is on the edge of an orgasmic cliff I pull back and wrap my lips around him, pushing forward until his tip hits the back of my throat.

  “Oh, fuck, sweetheart.”

  Cole’s hips push forward again and again and he sets his own pace. I glance up to meet his gaze, but he’s not looking down at me. No, his gaze is wandering from one mirror to the next, taking in the image of me sucking him off from every available angle.

  I shift a little so I can see us in the mirror, too.

  Watching him push into my mouth and work himself into such a frenzy so that he’s fucking my mouth is more erotic than the porno movie hidden in that secret file on my hard drive. Now, it’s like I’m starring in my own porno. I’m watching the scene of ‘Whitney and Cole getting it on in the mirror maze’ as if I’m an outsider. It’s never been more apparent to me just how crazy and insane I make this man.

  Pride wars with need inside me. I want to watch as he empties himself into me and I swallow him down. I want to watch every minuscule expression on his face as he unglues into a muddled mess. I want to watch his ecstasy-filled eyes look at me like I’m the only girl for him.

  “I’m gonna come,” Cole pants out, giving me fair warning to back away. But I don’t want to stop. The urge to know what he tastes like is a burning need inside me.

  I cup his balls in my hand and squeeze lightly, pushing my lips all the way down to his base. He twitches in my mouth and releases a noise that sounds like a mix between a growl and a groan. Hot, salty liquid pours down the back of my throat while he jerks his hips in an off-rhythm way until he’s completely spent.

  I pull away and wipe my chin with the back of my hand. Cole extends a shaking hand to help me up and wastes no time in kissing me once I’m on my feet.

  With tongue.

  I love that he kisses me with tongue.

  In the past, some of my exes have pulled their heads away in the same situation and it’s always bothered me because after a guy eats you out he expects you to kiss him and to love the taste of yourself. It’s a turn-on for them and I get it, but you have to be willing to return the favor. I can’t stand sexual double standards.

  After our kiss, he lowers his forehead to rest on my own while he tucks himself in and fastens his pants back up.

  “You are something else, Miss Knight.”

  I grin. “Well, thank you, Mr. Webber.”

  “I’ll be getting mirrors installed in my bedroom. On every surface.”

  I laugh.

  “It’s cute that you think I’m joking.” He leans forward and places a chaste kiss on my mouth.

  A thought occurs to me. “Do you think they have cameras in here?” My eyes widen.

  “Honestly, I could care less. That was worth it even if they do.”

  “We probably just scarred that poor girl for life.”

  He chuckles.

  “Should we work on finding our way out of here now? I’m curious to see what else you have planned for us tonight.” I press myself against him, unable or unwilling to extract myself from the need to feel him.

  “I think you’re really going to like what I have planned next for us.” He slips his hands into mine, intertwining our fingers.

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  And I realize I don’t doubt him. For the first time in forever I’m not obsessing about keeping my independence and not allowing myself to get too close to a guy. I’m letting whatever might happen, happen. And to my surprise it feels way better than I thought it would.

  26

  We walk into the Ice Cream Bar and I’m immediately in love with the place. I glance over at Cole.

  “Well, you had me at the name, but this place looks amazing!”

  His grin widens. He’s obviously pleased with himself for picking a good spot. But really, this place is too much.

  It’s a throwback to a 1930’s-style soda fountain and lunch counter. The soda jerks behind the counter all wear crisp white shirts with a black bow tie, white aprons tied at the waist, and little white hats that harken back to another era.

  There’s a pair of seats available at the end of the counter and Cole nods in that direction. “Do you want to sit over there?”

  “Absolutely.” I shimmy onto the stool, remove my coat and purse, and set them on the very edge of the counter, out of the way. Cole passes me his coat and the scent of his cologne wafts by me as I place it on top of the pile.

  I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of that smell. I’m not even sure if it’s entirely his cologne or if it’s his own natural scent, but whatever it is, it makes me wet. Scentsy needs to make that their new scent—Cole Webber’s Orgasm Inducer.

  He pulls a menu out of the metal prongs and passes one to me, then opens the other himself.

  “What’s good here?” I ask, then glance to my side when he doesn’t answer right away.

  His eyes trail down my body for a moment before he returns eye contact with me. “What I feel like eating right now isn’t on the menu.”

  I press my lips together and blush. Then I smack his arm with the menu. “Behave,” I scold.

  He leans in and speaks directly into my ear. “Was that you behaving when you were on your knees with my cock in your mouth?”

  I press my thighs firmly together. He eyes me shifting my ass on the vinyl stool and chuckles before leaning back from me.

  I force myself to study the menu some more, eventually deciding on the PB&J, which probably seems silly, but seriously. Where else can you get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at a restaurant? I have to try it.

  “What can I get you kids?” The guy behind the counter approaches. I stifle a chuckle because I’m pretty sure he’s about our age. Must be part of the whole soda jerk persona.

  “I’m going to have the PB&J.” I smile wide and Cole shakes his head.

  “I’ll have the pulled pork,” Cole says.

  “And to drink?” the waiter, whose nametag I now see says Ned, asks.

  “They all look so good. I don’t know how to decide,” I say, because really, there’s a bunch of variations of milkshakes, floats, and sodas on this menu, any and all of which sound mouthwatering.

  “Why don’t you try the Too Good to be True milkshake?” Cole offers.

  “Why that one?” I ask, scanning the menu to read its ingredients.

  He shrugs. “Seems fitting.”

  I glance up at Ned and I know my cheeks are stained pink. “Okay, let’s go with that.”

  Ned nods. “And for you?”

  “I’m going to go wi
th the O Canada. I haven’t tried that one yet and Canadians are always going on and on about how good their maple syrup is. Let’s see if that’s the case.”

  “Very good. I’ll have the milkshakes over here in a few minutes.”

  We both thank him and then shoot the shit as we watch Ned, fascinated by him concocting our drinks. At least I’m fascinated.

  I’m realizing making a milkshake is an art form. Almost like he’s developing a potion. Cole explains to me that everything is made in-house and handcrafted. Even the sodas. There’s no pouring a bottle of cola into a float. No, they use homemade syrups and tinctures and whatever else they need—shaking cream with an egg over ice to make the ice cream.

  Color me impressed.

  “For the lady.” Ned sets my milkshake down in front of me and my mouth waters at the sight of it.

  “Thank you.” I waste no time, leaning in and placing my mouth around the straw, sucking hard to get the ice cream up the straw. When the cold, sweet liquid hits my tongue I close my eyes and a little moan escapes my throat and then I suck in some more.

  It really is the best milkshake I think I’ve ever had. By the time I come back to myself and steal a glance over at Cole he’s sitting staring at me with heavy-lidded eyes, his milkshake untouched.

  “What?” I ask and sit up straighter in my chair, feeling a little self-conscious.

  He pushes his hand through his hair. “You.”

  I double-blink. “Me what?”

  “You drinking that milkshake with your little noises and your lips wrapped around that straw. The way your cheeks are sucked in. And did I mention your lips? It’s all a little distracting.” He shifts in his chair and I get the impression he’s doing it to try to hide something. Like a hard-on.

  I chuckle. “You seem to be somewhat obsessed with my lips now, Mr. Webber.”

  He leans in further and I catch his scent. “Miss Knight, you have no idea just how obsessed I am.”

  I play off his comment, not knowing if he’s talking about me in general, or my lips as a result of the killer blow job I gave him an hour ago. I don’t want to read too much into his words, but it doesn’t escape me the way my stomach did a somersault as a result of them.