Page 8 of Tastes Like Misery

“It never came up.”

“Hmm,” she made a noise before going back to the cooler to grab another piss tasting beer for me. “This place is party central during the week. The hard-working men need a place to escape their wives and kids. But weekends, those are for family around these parts. Most of them drive to the city or stay home and do whatever it is families do. Hell, the movie theater doesn’t even open on Saturdays anymore. They get the Sunday crowd, after folks purge their sinner souls at church, they go watch a movie. Some of the single ranch hands stop by this bar on Sundays. Weekend action here is pretty nonexistent. Unless you like cow tipping.”

“Cow tipping is really a thing?”

She poured herself another shot of vodka, taking the bills from my pile on the bar. The woman gave me a hell of a lot of information we could use and I wanted to kiss her. More than kiss her. Bend her over this bar and pound into her pussy, so I didn’t mind if she took my money. “Yep,” she announced, popping the P. “At least it was back when I was in high school. I’m sure there’s still some kids who do it. I’m stuck here, so I have no clue.”

“You seem to hate this town,” I boldly stated. “Why not just leave it?”

”As if it’s that easy,” she rolled her eyes at me. “I’ve been fired from every job except this one, and that’s only because there’s no customers half the time. I have no money to just pick up and leave. You may be able to take a break from the city because your pampered ass can afford it, but people like me struggle just to pay rent.”

I sat back, shocked at her words. No one had spoken to me like that in ages. Not since I was a scrawny kid, before I beefed up and learned to fight. I fucking loved it, and before I knew it, I’d wrapped my large hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to me, connecting our lips.

She stiffened at first, and I slid my tongue over her bottom lip, begging for her to open up to me. When she did, our tongues collided, and she was the one taking me in deeper, devouring my mouth expertly and making me stiff as fuck. That little moan of hers was so damn sexy, I found myself standing and trying to reach her perfect ass over the bar that separated us.

Yeah, I’d be fucking this one tonight. All night and into the morning if I could make it. Her skills with her tongue and the way she demanded more from me were exactly what I needed.

Both of us breathed heavily when we came up for air. I ran my finger along the top of her swell of breasts, “Anywhere more private we can go?”

“Right here,” she challenged, her eyes sparkling mischievously, daring me to do it.

My team rules of no making any scenes flew out the window as she hopped up on the bar, glasses shattering to the floor along with my money. I didn’t give a shit, meeting her breasts as she plopped down in front of me, like a meal on display. Pulling down her shirt, I sucked on her nipple, kissing and nipping hungrily to the other side. Fuck, they were perfect, and I just wanted to bury my head between them.

Her fingers raked through my hair as she let out sounds that traveled straight to my dick. “Take me,” she demanded, and I couldn’t resist any longer.

I bit the skin on her thigh as I worked to unbutton her shorts. She lifted her ass as I wiggled her out of those tight ass jean shorts. Damn, I wanted to just rip them off and bury myself all the way inside of her, especially when my hand felt the lace of her thong and her bare skin as I slid them down.

I growled, about to tug the things off when the door swung open, smashing into the wall behind it. “Looks like you found some fun, Finn,” my friend’s boisterous voice louder than the god-awful jukebox playing in the background.

I expected this woman, whose name I still didn’t know, to cover up or something, but she just stayed where she was, her head slowly looking at my friend. The iciness in her voice was a surprise, though it wasn’t considering who she spoke to, “Dane. You mother fucker.”

His look of surprise was almost comical, something I’d never seen on him before. His mouth dropped, and he was silent for a moment. When he collected himself, his voice held a slight shakiness I’d never heard before, “Vivian?”

Chapter 6

Vivian

I seethed at the sight of him, my throbbing lady bits forgotten as the devil himself showed up in my town, in my bar. “I’m going to kill you,” I hissed, almost hitting the man who was about to give me some pleasure in the head as I swung my leg over him and jumped down.

Dane held up his hands, “It was understood it was a one-night stand, baby girl.”

His cocky attitude was back, and it fueled my anger more. “You think I care about the sex?” I laughed humorlessly. “No asshole, I didn’t want you to cuddle me afterwards like some little needy bitch. You left me to get caught, and I almost went to jail!”

“But you didn’t,” he chuckled, and I wanted to punch that smug grin off his face.

Slap. My hand connected with his face and I continued my tirade, “You could have woken me up, warned me I could get caught if I didn’t leave. Instead, you left some bills on my pillow like I’m some prostitute.”

He narrowed his eyes on me, “I was being nice and I don’t do that very often. You were the one who tried to lift my wallet, steal from me. I told you it wasn’t my room. It’s not my fault you didn’t wake your ass up to get out.”

“Nice?” I spit out before I lunged for him, my fists flying. Strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me back before I could connect more than once. Not that it did anything but hurt me with his hard, muscled body. Still, I was livid, and shouted, “I had to talk my way out of it and had to run because they were going to call the police. I would have been arrested, and your measly little gift wouldn’t have been enough to bail me out.”

“Reginald wouldn’t have actually called the police,” he dismissed me. “Now, be a good girl and get me some whiskey.”

I saw red, my vision blurring as my rage boiled over, my voice deadly calm, “Get out of my bar.”

“No.”

The storm brewed inside of me and I didn’t have to think about my next actions. Pulling out of Finn’s arms, I walked behind the bar, grabbed the old 22 pistol, and aimed it at his head, “I said get out.”

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