Page 62 of Mister Cowboy
“Are you gonna save him?” Michael asked, appearing by her side with a shaker filled with alcohol.
“I figured I’d let him sweat it out a little first.”
“You’re terrible. After all he did tonight?”
“All right, all right,” she said, nodding to the shaker.
Michael bent to the small fridge they kept behind the bar and pulled out a spray can of whipped cream, a devious grin on his face. “Ready?”
Following Michael to the other side of the bar, she looked back to Brecken. Somehow, he had taken control of the situation, and instead of the tense moment she’d witnessed earlier, the women all stood back, looking up at him with awe. Their expressions held none of the lust and desire she’d seen only moments ago.
“Boys and girls, it’s time for the infamous blow job shots,” Michael’s voice boomed through the bar catching the attention of the two parties. “Men, if you would be so kind as to grab a chair, I’ll send the ladies to you.” He winked and pulled the tray down from where it had been hoisted on his shoulder. “Ladies, here are your shots. Now go find a lucky man and make his night.”
January giggled, picking up a shot and walking toward Brecken. Avoiding his gaze until she stood before him, she lifted her eyes and batted her lashes. “Hmm. Do you happen to know anyone that might be interested in helping me with this—”
“I swear to God, woman, don’t even say the word. I’m in blue ball hell, and if I so much as see your gorgeous lips mouth the word blow job, I’m not holding myself responsible for the outcome.”
Inhaling sharply, she felt the truth behind his words. His hooded eyes bore into hers. Bringing the shot glass up to her lips, she licked a bit of cream off the top, not breaking eye contact with him. He let out a barely contained groan, clenching his jaw before he let out a string of curses.
Glancing over at Michael, she caught his eye and motioned subtly with her head to the back. Michael let one side of his mouth lift and held up a hand waving his fingers.They had five minutes.
Up on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around Brecken’s neck. “Five minutes on the clock. What’s your play?”
Nostrils flared and eyes widening as her words took meaning, he picked her up around the waist. She let out an excited giggle and saved the sticky liquid from tumbling all over them as he walked with purpose to the back.
He set her on the desk in the office and pulled her top up and over her head. His lips were on hers the instant the fabric was free. He was hard and rough against her mouth, showing her how much he wanted her, and she held nothing back, thanking him the best way she could by meeting him with the same passion.
“You taste like cream,” he said between nips at her bottom lip.
“Mmm, from the whipped cream on the blow job shot.”
“I don’t know what a blow job shot is, but you taste amazing.”
Pulling back, she looked at him quizzically. “You’ve never seen anyone do a blow job shot?”
He shook his head. “I think I was about to a few minutes ago, but I got distracted by a beautiful woman.”
Jumping down from the desk, shot in hand, she rolled the chair out from under the desk.
“Sit,” she ordered.
Cocking an eyebrow, he smirked but sat as instructed. She sat the shot glass down between his legs, letting her fingers brush against his rigid length. His eyes watched her intently, his breathing ragged, and she bet if she ran her hands over his body, she’d find every muscle tight and hard. The effect she had on him was more intoxicating than the sickly, sweet liquor she was about to drink.
“A blow job shot. Half Bailey’s, half Kahula, and topped with whipped cream. Most common shot ordered at a bachelorette party, but it’s also a favorite among twenty-first birthday celebrations.” She ran her hands down the insides of his thighs and out, gripping the smooth material of his black pants and holding on to the outside of his knees as she crouched down, hovering over the shot glass. “No hands allowed,” she said, reluctantly letting go of him and moving them so they were clasped behind her back.
“Pity. A blow job isn’t the same without minding the stepchildren.” He chuckled, leaning back against the chair.
She placed her mouth around the glass and tipped it back, catching his eye as the liquid filled her mouth and trickled down her throat. His expression turned from the playful teasing expression to the dark, alpha glare that made her quiver in anticipation.
“The shot’s just foreplay,” she said, placing the empty glass on the floor and reaching for the zipper of his pants.
* * *
“What a night,” Michael said as they flipped chairs onto the tables. “Remind me to keep it classy and go to a strip club when I get married.”
“Whenyou get married?” she asked, surprised. “Words I never imagined coming out of your mouth.”
Michael shrugged. “I’m just saying. At least in a strip club they expect you to be drunk and sleazy. What about you, Brecken? Bachelor party in a bar or in a strip club, what do you say?”
