She frowns for a second. I don’t think she even realizes she’s doing it.
Damn, I love that! She reacts to me even when she doesn’t want to.
I don’t know why she tries so hard to resist me. I’m not such a bad guy. I’m fit and healthy, a successful business owner, I’m not in debt, and I’m pretty damn good-looking. Or so I hear anyway.
I move in closer to the bar, leaning one elbow on it as I turn to the group of guys. “So, what’s it gonna be, boys? We’ve got a new bartender to audition.”
Cheers go up all around me. Olivia’s got a fan base already. She’s gonna make me a killing.
I hear terms like bar dance, sing along, and crowd crawl being tossed around, but then two words rise above the rest and soon everyone has joined in to chant them.
“Body shot! Body shot! Body shot!”
Olivia is watching with interest as her fate is decided.
“Body shot it is!” I shout.
I look at Olivia and raise my hands, palm up. “The bar has spoken.” She gives me a nod and a small smile as she wipes her hands on her jeans. “Pick your victim.”
She bites her lip as she looks across the bar at all the guys watching her. I know without a doubt each one is wishing they could be the lucky guy, but she’s a smart girl. She knows there’s more to this “audition” than meets the eye. She’s weighing her options and thinking about an appropriate response.
Having worked in a bar before, she has to know that drinking on the job is strictly forbidden, which excludes Marco and Taryn. She probably also knows that engaging in something like this with a client is frowned upon as well. She’s thinking it through.
Smart girl.
An audition at my bar is always about finding a way to keep the people happy without breaking any rules. I’m a rule-breaker by nature, but I’m strict with my employees. This bar is my livelihood, after all. I can’t afford law suits, injuries and brawls.
I watch Olivia as she assesses the situation. When her eyes fall on me, I know she realizes I’m her only viable option. I’m not sure if I see a flicker of excitement cross her face or if it’s just my imagination. What I’m certain I see, however, is her reaching for that bravado again. And it’s just as sexy as it was before.
She turns to the guys around me and treats them to a beguiling smile. “Think my boss here will man up and do it?”
Some good-natured ribbing begins as I get playful pushes and slaps on the back. There’s lighthearted jealousy and lots of encouragement as I nod to Olivia.
I offer my hand across the bar. She looks at it, takes a deep breath then slides her fingers over my palm. I help steady her as she puts a knee on the ledge and climbs onto the bar.
“Clear the bar,” I say and all the guys reach for their drinks, making a space for Olivia to lie down. “Marco, one Patron body shot!” I call down the bar.
He quickly disengages from the girls he’s entertaining to pour the shot and bring the salt dish and two lime wedges down to us.
Rather than leaving it, though, he smiles at Olivia. “Stretch out, beautiful. I’ll get you ready.”
Normally, the bartender would do just as Marco is doing. But then again, I’m not usually involved. And for some reason, I wanted to prep Olivia.
Olivia lies down and wiggles to get comfortable on the hard surface of the bar.
I smile tightly as I watch him drag one lime wedge across her bare stomach, circling her navel several times. She’s looking up at him, grinning. He’s looking down at her, practically salivating. I grit my teeth against the little stab of jealousy I feel.
What the hell’s that all about?
Anyone will tell you I don’t have a jealous bone in my body. There are too many willing women in the world to get all bent out of shape over one. Envy is just not in me.
Not usually.
Marco’s taking his sweet time, wetting her skin and sprinkling salt on her. Taryn switches on the body shot music, which is always “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard. It gets the crowd into it and lets everyone know what’s going on. I’ve never paid it much attention, but as far as mood music goes, tonight I’m really feeling it. I’d like to pour something sweet all over Olivia and then take my time licking it off.
I’m about to hurry Marco along when he finally goes to hand her the shot glass and stick the second piece of lime in her mouth. I can’t help but grin when Olivia takes the wedge from his fingers and does it herself. Maybe the attraction I see in Marco’s eyes only goes one way.
I feel smug.
Olivia turns to look at me, her eyes wide and alert. I bend to whisper into her ear. “If you’re really uncomfortable with this, you don’t have to do it.”
I hold my breath as I lean back to get her answer, hoping the brave one will win out.
And she does.
Slowly, Olivia shakes her head and wiggles a little closer to me on the bar. Her eyes are sparkling with determination. And challenge. And it makes me jerk in my jeans.
I grin at her. “All right. You asked for it,” I say, just loud enough for the guys around me to hear. They cheer me on.
Moving down to stand in front of her waist, I bend and put my tongue against the skin of her stomach. I feel her muscles contract. The salty and sour flavors cause saliva to gush into my mouth, so I close my lips and swallow, kissing her stomach before continuing to lick my way around her navel.
She lies perfectly still as I lap up all the salt. When I’m done, I lift my head just a little and I see her strain toward me. It’s a small movement. Probably nothing anyone else even noticed. But I noticed.
Draping one arm across her h*ps to hold her still, I dip my tongue into her bellybutton. She twitches beneath me and I could swear I hear her gasp, even above the music.
When I lift my head, my eyes meet hers and in them, whether she would ever admit it or not, is desire. Lots of hot, sweaty, pin-me-up-against-the-wall desire.
Without looking away, I reach for the shot glass and down the Patron. I see her chest rise with the deep breath she takes as I move toward her head.
Cupping the back of her neck, I pull her face to mine. I wrap my lips around the lime wedge she holds between her teeth and I suck every last drop of juice from it. The thing is, she never once loosens her hold on it. I can’t help but wonder if she’s imagining the same scenario with a deserted bar and nothing between us but heat.
When I lean back, I notice she looks as…bothered as I feel. I think if we were alone, she’d have a hard time saying no to anything I wanted to do to her.
Marco interrupts the moment. “Welcome to Dual!”
Again, cheers go up all around. Olivia’s smile is a bit vague as she switches gears from our hot encounter to the fact that there’s a bar full of guys vying for her attention. But she recovers quickly, taking the lime out of her mouth and holding it up in victory.
She tosses me a cheeky grin and then spins around to jump off the bar and resume her position behind as an employee behind it. “All right, guys, who needs a refill?”
And just like that, she’s in full swing as a bartender at Dual. My only concern now is keeping Marco away from her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN - Olivia
My first thought upon waking is of Cash. Licking my stomach. Tonguing my navel. And then looking so hard into my eyes.
God, I could’ve devoured him right then and there!
Damn the bad boys!
I blame everything on my inherent weakness for them, because my head tells me I should be looking for someone much more suitable. Someone like Nash.
Nash.
In my head, I even sigh over his name. He’s every bit as delicious as his brother. Obviously. They’re twins. And even though he’s got less of the edge that seems to draw me in like a bee to honey, he’s got so many other things I love.
My phone rings. I look at the caller ID and no name pops up with the number, which means I don’t know the caller. I consider not answering, but I’m already awake so I might as well.
“Hello?”
“Good morning,” a gruff voice growls at me. Within a fraction of a second, I not only recognize the voice, but I react to it. My stomach flutters in pleasurable excitement.
“Good morning,” I return. It’s Cash.
“I was hoping to get to talk to you before you left last night.”
His comment brings up an unpleasant thought from the previous night. Just before the last of the patrons were herded out of the building, Taryn had disappeared through the same door I’d seen Cash use and neither had come back out. Marco had showed me how to close up and, when we were done, he offered to walk me to my car, so I let him. I was irritated and had no intention of waiting around for Cash like a puppy dog. Even if he is my employer. It’s the principle of the thing. I remember thinking that he’s just like all the other bad boys. Fun-loving, exciting, and, ultimately, unfaithful.
Not that it seems he has anyone to be faithful to, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he did.
Shaking off the thoughts, I remind myself that I don’t care about Cash. He’s my employer and that’s it. End of story.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you and Taryn,” I explain, hating the waspish bite to my tone. I soften it a bit with, “Marco showed me everything I needed to do anyway. No big deal.”
“Marco, huh?”
Is it my imagination or is there some venom in his voice now?
“Yeah. He’s great.”
He humphs and then pauses for a second before continuing. “Taryn had some concerns she needed to address with me before tonight, which is why I’m calling you.”
I’m relieved. Instantly. And I hate that I am. It irritates me. But more than that, now I’m worried. This call seems ominous.
“Is there a problem?”
“Look, I’m not the type to beat around the bush or to get involved in petty rivalries, so I’m just gonna be straight with you. Taryn isn’t particularly interested in training you. She doesn’t have a specific reason; she just isn’t. I won’t tell you what I think it is, because it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I want you working at Dual. I know you need a specific shift. If she can’t work with you, that’s her problem and she can find something else that might make her happy.”
“So, what does this mean? What are you saying?”
“Well, when given those options, Taryn decided that she’d rather stay. So, I’m leaving your training up to you. If you want Taryn to train you, she will. If not, then I’ll do it.”
My pulse speeds up just thinking about spending so much time with Cash. And in such close quarters.
“Can’t Marco train me?”
There’s a protracted pause before Cash answers. When he does, his tone is clipped. “No. That’s not Marco’s job.”
My mind is racing with a thousand thoughts, not the least of which is that it makes me smile to think Cash might be a tad bit jealous of Marco.
“I don’t know what to say. I mean, I don’t want Taryn to think I’m backing down from her. I’m not going to let her run me off. But at the same time, I don’t want to put her in a bad position if she’s got a problem with me.”
“Her job is not to like you, it’s to train you. You aren’t putting her in a bad position.”
My hesitation is minimal. Regardless of my feelings on the issue with Taryn, I know it won’t bode well for me if I let Cash train me. I just don’t trust myself around him. Not completely anyway.
“Then I’ll let her train me.”
“Okay. But if she gives you a hard time, I want you to come to me immediately.”
“I will,” I agree, having no intention of doing any such thing. No, I’ll have to sort out things with Taryn on my own. We’ll either learn to get along or learn to work with someone we hate.
I drag a hand through my tangled hair. I hope it’s the former rather than the latter. Working with someone who hates me will be stressful in a big, big way.
“She’s asked off for tonight, so you won’t have to work again until next weekend. Unless you want to pick up an extra shift Wednesday night when she works.”
Actually, I need the money. And my classes don’t start until 11:00 on Thursday, so I could probably swing that, as long as it doesn’t become a habit.
“Wednesday’s good. I can do that.”
“Good,” he says. I think I hear a smile in his voice. I’m glad he didn’t take it personally that I don’t want to be trained specifically by him.
I bet his ego is so big he didn’t give it a second thought.
“Well, if there’s anything you need, give me a call. I’ve always got my cell phone with me.”
“How did you get my number anyway?”
“Some as**ole named Nash.”
“Asshole?”
“Yeah, asshole. Don’t tell me you don’t think he’s an asshole!”
I laugh uncomfortably. “Um, no I don’t think he’s an asshole. He’s always been nice to me.”
“Of course he has. You’re gorgeous. What man wouldn’t be nice to you?”
“Plenty.”
“Assholes, all of them,” he teases.
“They’re assholes, too?”
“Yep.”
“Is everyone an as**ole today?”
“Yep,” he repeats. “Word of the day toilet paper.”
I laugh, genuinely this time. “Is that right?”
“Yep. You don’t even want to know what yesterday’s word was.”
“I’m sure I don’t. It would probably make my ears bleed.”