“I’ll take another,” I say to the bartender as I slam the empty glass down on the wooden surface.
Warren winces. “Dude, slow the fuck down. That’s already three drinks in less than an hour.”
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who asked me to come out tonight, and this is what I need.” Side-eyeing him, I continue, “Is that a problem?”
Warren shakes his head. “Do what you need to do, I guess. But give me your keys.”
“Why?”
He leans in closer. “You’re off your fucking rocker if you think I’m going to let you drive after three glasses of whiskey, with a fourth on its way.”
Rolling my eyes, I dig my keys from the pocket of my jeans and slam them on the bar in front of him. “There. Happy?”
He takes the keys and slides them into his back pocket. “Almost. How about you tell me what’s got you throwing back whiskey?”
“This isn’t a goddamn therapy session, Warren. You wanted a wingman, so you got one. In fact, I just might try to get laid tonight too.” The words leave my lips, but my body is rejecting the idea completely. In fact, nausea starts to swirl in my gut. I don’t want anotherwoman, but I have to keep fighting this need for the woman currently living in my home.
“Well, that isn’t going to work out well for you, my friend, if you have whiskey dick.”
“My dick is just fine.” In fact, my favorite appendage is immediately half-mast as I envision Elodie bent over in front of me earlier.
Warren shakes his head, taking a drink from his glass of bourbon before surveying the bar. Riley’s Office is more modern than most bars in the area. The booths are a dark burgundy, the lighting softer to highlight the sleek, black décor, and the clientele are mostly in suits, probably here to drown their sorrows from working their corporate jobs all week.
Honestly, I feel like Warren and I are sticking out like two sore thumbs, but it doesn’t matter. In my experience, a woman in a suit likes a man who isn’t afraid to get dirty for a living. Something about a worn pair of Levi’s and work boots just does something for them.
And I need to find one to take this edge off, stat.
“There’s two women directly behind us, a blonde and a redhead. White silk blouses, pencil skirts, and heels. Interested?”
The bartender slides my fresh glass of whiskey across the bar to me. “Let’s do it.”
Warren slaps me on the back, grinning from ear to ear. “Perfect. My dick is already excited.”
***
An hour and another glass of whiskey later, the blonde sitting next to me—whose name I can’t fucking remember right now—is giving me all theright signs.
She’s leaning in to me, licking her lips before sipping on her white wine, and rubbing my thigh under the table. With a glance, I see that the redhead is doing the same thing to Warren, and he’s eating up every second of it.
“So, you want to get out of here?” The blonde purrs in my ear. I’m waiting for my dick to have a reaction to the sound, but not even a twitch happens between my legs.
Nonetheless, I push forward with my mission. “I’m not from here and my buddy has the keys to my truck.”
Warren slides them across the table to the blonde. “He’s got a large backseat, but no driving, you two.” Winking at me, he nods slowly.
The blonde giggles. “Fine by me.”
I drain the last of my glass and stand, finding myself shaky on my feet but steady enough that I can make my way out of the bar and to the parking lot. I pull the blonde behind me, fighting to focus on putting one foot in front of the other before she spins me around and pushes me up against the side of my truck.
“I knew as soon as I saw you walking toward our table that I wanted you tonight,” she says, licking her lips before reaching for the button on my jeans. Any other time a woman would say something like that to me, my dick would be racing to stand at attention.
But I feel nothing. In fact, I’m pretty sure he just shriveled up a bit and my balls just tried to climb back up inside of my body.
Focus, Henley. This is what you need, remember?
The sound of my zipper being pulled down brings me back to reality as the blonde starts to push my jeans and underwear down and drop to her knees.
Nope. I can’t fucking do this.
