Sawyer has the second pizza boxed and the new order already cooking.
Damn, he is getting good at this.
“I have a proposition.” I wave the wad of green between us.
His Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow. “Okay?”
“These two jackasses want to give me this to see someone take a body shot. Want to split it with me?” I’m not too proud to admit I’ve done more for less.
Running a bar is expensive.
“What does that mean?” he stammers, shifting to cock his hip against the counter.
“Not much really.” I shrug, giving him a smile. “I’d trust you over any of those bozos.” My thumb jerks over my shoulder.
His nose wrinkles and his lower lip pouts out slightly. “I guess. But I don’t know what to do.”
This time it’s my turn to blink at him. “You poor, sheltered, boy. Come with me.” I grab his wrist and tug him with me back into the noise.
I flash the bills again to the two old men. “Alrighty, one body shot coming up.” After stuffing the cash into my pocket, I pour a glass of tequila and grab a lime, then hand Sawyer the salt shaker.
“Go ahead.” Pulling back my head lifts my chest, front and center in my tank top.
Sawyer’s cheeks pale, then flush pink. “I, uh.” He looks at me helplessly.
A flash of guilt goes through me. He really is clueless.
My fingers tangle in the front of his shirt to pull him down until my lips almost brush his ear. “You need to lick each breast, sprinkle salt on it. Then, you swallow the drink, taste the salt,and take the lime.” When I let him go, he almost stumbles backwards with a dazed look.
Jesus Christ, I’m going to give Mason a smackdown next time I see him.
Poor, naive, Sawyer.
“Ready?” I smile sweetly up to him.
His hat moves almost imperceptibly with his slight nod.
When I wedge the small glass into my cleavage, he looks like he’s going to pass out.
“If he can’t do it, I can!” The second idiot is gaping so absurdly his false teeth fall onto the counter.
“Fuck, Alvin, get your shit together,” number one grumbles at him, but his gaze never leaves me.
“No, he can do it. Right?” I bat my lashes at Sawyer.
I hope he knows it’s part of the theatrics.
His big blue eyes squeeze tightly, then he focuses on me and flips his hat backwards.
Dang. He’s kinda hot with a little more of a badboy look.
What is wrong with me?
When his scalding tongue touches me, it almost sizzles against my skin.
He licks a tentative path, then switches to leave a matching burning trail on the other.
I help him by sprinkling the damp lines with the little white granules.
