Page 2 of Bang Buddies With Benefits
Halfway there, I bumped into the pink-haired waitress who’d been taking care of our table. A tray filled with blow job shots and tall pink glasses of sex on the beach was balanced in her hand.
Since she clearly had it covered, the need to rush sputtered out, yet I couldn’t quite convince myself to return to the party. Honestly, I could use a moment to collect myself and reinforce the locks on my memories, so my emotions didn’t slip out again. Penny would take good care of Ellie, and I was craving something that wasn’t super fruity or likely to leave my face a sticky mess.
There goes my social life.I snorted at the movie reference fromCluelessthat’d automatically popped into my head. What little social life I’d managed to maintain in college had disappeared during my hectic first year as a law associate. Which was probably why I was giving tonight’s party favors longing looks rather than satirical ones.
The bartender’s back was to me, the area along the counter surprisingly vacant. As I took in his ripped, tattooed arms and the brawny line that ran between his shoulder blades, barely visible through the thin cotton T-shirt, I stumbled on my heels.
Despite not having an audience, he tossed a bottle and a shaker cup in a high arch. He juggled from one side to the other, catching both in mid-air and pouring with precision. He bumped the cup off his elbow, snagged another bottle, and poured in a few ounces, as though he were content to do so all night.
Admittedly, I was just as content to watch.
Except for my mouth was going dry, my heart beating faster at the way the grooves in his arms flexed and stretched, flexed and stretched. With my libido flaring to life with a vengeance, I now needed that strong drink more than ever.
Anticipation whirred as I cleared my throat to get his attention. I might’ve even sent up a prayer to Goddess of Eye Candy that his front was as nice as his backside. “Excuse me?”
He turned, the bottle in his palm continuing to spin. His jaw fell open as he gave me a quick up and down, and still, the twirling continued…
Right off the tips of his fingers.
Without thinking, I lunged over the wooden countertop, as if I could save the day by catching the rum before it hit the ground. The bowl of bar peanuts went flying and Sexy Bartender and I bashed foreheads, about as hard as a pissed-off judge banged his gavel at me in court.
Through the smarting of pain in my forehead, I heard the crash of the bottle as it hit the floor.
“Sorry,” I said, blinking away the stars that’d overtaken my vision. “I didn’t know that was taking all your concentration.”
Another thing I didn’t realize until too late? I was dangling way too far over the bar to simply slid back down. I kicked out, overturning a stool that did nothing to help me with the beached whale sitch.
I rolled onto my side, the move sending me closer to the mirrored wall of glass than the customer side of the bar. Since I also felt responsible for the spill, I snagged a pile of napkins on my jump to the floor, landing in a crouch to blot at the mess.
Sexy Bartender was already bent and working on the clean-up. Eyes the color of a cloudless sky met mine as he snagged hold of my wrist, stopping me a few inches short of my goal. “Careful. I don’t want you to get cut.”
Whooshwent the air from my lungs, leaving my voice nothing but a helium squeak. “I don’t want you to cut yourself, either.” I cleared my throat and pushed through the haze. “All my legal training also demands I avoid admitting fault in the situation, lest you take that as grounds to sue me. And while you’re nicer to look at than most men I face down in court, you’d inevitably lose, so…” I shrugged, as there wasn’t a way to stuff the words back into my mouth, which is what I wanted to do, for the record. “I suggest you accept my help instead.”
Using a rag, he gathered up most of the glass and tossed it in the nearby trashcan, balancing on the balls of his feet like a big cat ready to strike. “The problem is, you’re not supposed to be behind the bar.”
“Oh. Right. That makes sense.” I started to stand, shifting my legs to the side so I wouldn’t flash him.
Unless he asked—I was a lady like that.
“Are the bar police going to come take me away if I don’t leave?” I asked as he continued to sop up the boozy mixture. “And who, pray tell, enforces that rule?”
One corner of his mouth lifted, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his dark scruff highlighted his mouth with perfection. Sometimes you could just tell when a guy knew how to use his mouth, and this guy hit all the right marks.
“I do.” His barbell piercing flashed in the overhead lights as he stood, and then he leaned so close to me that my internal organs went on hiatus. Oops, make that he reached for the handles of the sink so he could wash his hands. Water splatted my bare legs as he shook them out. “Don’t tempt me to make an example of you.”
The dip in his voice, the smirk—it was all sending my heart on a high-speed chase. There was no catching involved, not long term anyway, and yet I couldn’t force myself to stop the pursuit. “Listen, if justice has to be served, that’s something I completely understand. But given I don’t have a drink in my hand, it would seem the punishment has already started.”
“What’ll you have?”
One bartender on the rocks, with a spicy twist, please.Without permission, my gaze strayed downward. Dicks, dicks, everywhere, but could that one please be for me?
I licked my lips, not that the moisture combated the breathlessness. “A whiskey highball, and make it a double, please.”
Mr. Sexy Bartender snagged a fresh glass from one of the stacks. “It doesn’t take all my concentration, by the way.” At my confused expression, he added, “Making drinks with flair.” He tossed the cup in the air, undeterred by what’d happened earlier. “And don’t act like you weren’t impressed. Those eyes you were making at me were why I got distracted and dropped the bottle in the first place.”
“I’m not sure whether to say you’re sorry or you’re welcome.”
“I just like that you didn’t deny it.”
