Page 75 of Burn With Me

Sober-ish.

Drinks for two?

Waiting for someone to catch my eye.

Raising my fingers to signal I want another scotch, the bartender walks to my end of the bar like he’d rather be helping anyone else.

“I think you’ve had enough tonight, sir.”

“‘Scuse me? I’m doing just fine. Now give me another.”

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head and sets a glass of water in front of me instead.

Dick.

“Do you know whoIam?”

But he’s halfway down the other end of the bar by the time the question passes my lips.

My phone hasn’t lit up the entire time I’ve been here. Tripp hasn’t answered me. Ginny isn’t answering me.

By now, she’s probably getting ready for her night with her stranger.

Well, guess what, Red? He’s not coming tonight.

“Hey there,” a sultry voice sounds to my left, and I turn my head, coming face to face with a giant pair of fake tits encased in bright pink glitter.

Big blonde hair, too much makeup, and a silicone rack I can stick my dick between while she sucks me off.

“Can I help you?” I drawl in a bored tone.

She’ll do, I guess.

The blonde takes a seat next to me as she purrs, “I was thinking maybeIcould helpyoutonight, Mr. Tailor. You look pretty lonely.”

I am fucking lonely.

“You know this will go nowhere, right?” I motion for my check, tossing back the water as she nods while tacking a giant ass smile on her overfilled lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of expecting more. Thoughyoumight, once I’m done with you,” she coos as we stand and make our way to the exit once I’ve signed my tab.

Robert is waiting for me as we approach the car, unable to hide the disgust that crosses his face once he sees the woman walking in front of me. After she gets in the car, I tell him, “Don’t leave. This won’t take long.”

“Whatever you say, sir.” His tone is judgemental, but I let it slide.

The second I’m in my seat and the door closes behind me, the blonde launches into my lap and attempts to kiss me. Turning my head at the last second, I raise my hand to the top of her head, fingers twisting in her coarse, overly hair-sprayed hair, and roughly push her to her knees in front of me.

“I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me, but I imagine none of it’s true. You won’t be getting fucked tonight, sweetheart. You’re here to do a job, and that’s it.”

Cold. Detached. Unfeeling.

Her eyes don’t even flinch as she starts to giggle. “I can do that for you, Jackson. Here, though. At least enjoy the view while I do it.”

I don’t know if she’s trying to sound like Marilyn Monroe or what, but the breathy words aren’t working for her. She reaches up to undo the tie around her neck, letting the top of her dress fall down, revealing her chest.

My cock is as flaccid as a wet noodle.

Everything about this feels wrong.

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