Page 1 of Body Lock

Chapter One

This is a revised/edited version of the novel originally titled: SLAM

Quinn

The music blared in my ears where a headache had already started to wrench its thin fingers. Tipping back my shot glass filled with whiskey, the heat coated my throat in a wave of liquid fire.

A light gasp escaped my mouth, but I didn't mind the harshness; bourbon was the best way to forget your problems.

And lately, I've had plenty to forget.

I shifted in my seat, letting the dark corner conceal my presence. I liked not being seen anymore, just a fixture in a crowded space, instead of the fixture bringing in the crowd.

The waitress, a small, petite girl, glanced my way as I lifted the empty glass, shaking it to convey I needed another. She looked young, maybe twenty-two,tops.I didn't know her name and honestly, I didn't care, as long she kept my buzz at a constant pace.

Her light blonde hair was pulled back tight, the form fitting red shirt hugged her tits to perfection. My eyes drifted up and down as she bounced back in my direction, her round platter held high to avoid the drunken dancers between us.

“Here you go,” she said, setting the single swallow before me.

Glancing up at her, I tossed the bills onto the table, and watched her eyes follow the sleeve of tattoos dressing my arm. “Here, keep the change.” I leaned back in my chair, placing my hand around the glass, letting the coolness hit my skin like ice.

Her eyes broke away, looking down at her tray as she spoke,“Th...thanks, you need anything else?” Swiftly, she swiped the money off the table, shoving it into her apron as her eyes darted around the other patrons.

Man, she grabbed that shit quick. What, is she intimidated by me?

Am I making her nervous?

The thought made me chuckle and my cock swell. I loved the idea of causing a woman's nerves to go wild.

I bet I could get this pretty little thing to beg me to fuck her.

I'd tease her inexperienced pussy with my cock, waiting till her juices dripped down her thigh, and the only words able to form on her tongue would be-“Fuck me.”

It wouldn't be the first—or last—time I'd make a woman grovel to feel my dick.

My lips remained tightly closed as a smirk pulled from one corner. “I could always use something else, Sweetheart.” Running my tongue across my bottom lip, I tipped the glass and inhaled the shot. “For now, I'll just have another.” My stare burned deep into the brown abyss of her eyes.

A rush of excitement filled my pants as her cheeks blushed red, her hand coming up nervously to brush back a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Speechless, She's fucking speechless. God I love that.

Gracing me with a smile, she kicked her hip out, and turned towards the crowd.

I watched her ass glide through the sea of people in front of me till it became lost in the swarm around the bar; certain she exaggerated the sway of her ass for my enjoyment.

The things I would do to an ass like that, she has no idea how much I would love to break her.

And I would, I would break her in two.

I'd lived in New York for almost two years and, needless to say, the bar scene around here was endless; so it wasn't a surprise I hadn't seen this one tucked away.

The small sign above the door had read 'Whiskey Sour' when I'd entered. It had barely caught my eye while I was walking by.

Moving in my chair, the legs rocked unevenly beneath me. I attempted to scoot the seat around to see if maybe it was just the floor that wasn't level, but it didn't help. My body wobbled side to side on the weak legs, rocking to the natural beat of my muscles.

Typical dive bar, too cheap to fix shit.

Setting my hand down on the table, the stickiness of an unknown substance fixed to my palm. Peeling my hand away, it released with a slurping sound.

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