I should look away, but I keep watching as she tugs the long-sleeve shirt down over her curves. Good God, she’s gorgeous.
Her silky hair falls forward as she bends to pull her skirt. I know damn well I can’t stay for this, or I’ll have her and whatever little fucking panties she’s wearing pinned against the wall.
“I’ll meet you behind the bar,” I groan quickly, sliding out the door before I come in my fucking jeans.
Chapter Three
Marin
I never considered myself a tease. Heck, I think part of the reason my ex and I didn’t get along is because he thought I was asexual. Truthfully, I was starting to think I was too.
It’s not that I didn’t want a relationship with someone. I knew from the time I was young that I wanted the house on the hill with a flower garden and a family. It’s the sex part I never felt the pull for, even with Jackson, and technically speaking, he was a handsome guy. Tall, suit and tie type, successful, driven, and unapologetically ambitious. We would go on these late-night walks through the city, and I swear every woman on the street knew he was important. They could sense it on him, feel it radiating off his three-hundred-dollar shoes. And yet, no matter how hard I tried to force it, I never felt attraction to him or anyone the way I feel when I’m around Archer.
It feels animalistic and raw, like I can’t control the thoughts that filter through my head. Like I’m nervous and excited all at once. Like my body notices his far before my mind does, which is exactly why I need to get it together.
Who the hell do I think I am, taking off my shirt in the corner of the room, showing off my bra, hoping he loses control and takes me? I shouldn’t be throwing myself at the man.
Focus. I need to focus. The tips tonight could be good enough that I could maybe afford a night at the inn. I could reallyuse a good night’s sleep, a shower that’s not at a gas station, and a hot meal.
When I step out of the office, it’s clear that the night is going to be exactly as I expected. We’re only ten minutes in and women are already swinging around floppy, purple dildos and cackling like this is the first time they’ve been let out of the house in ages.
The men seem more reserved, maybe even a little nervous, except for one in the front corner that looks like he started drinking before he got here. His cheeks are dark red, and he’s gotten ahold of a Fleshlight that he’s pretending to hump into.
This is easily the most explicit event I’ve ever been to.
Archer meets me at the end of the bar and shoots me a glare like he’s already tired of this. “You stay back here and make drinks. These people are weird. I’ll take the order to the table.”
I like it when he bosses me and gets all protective. I’m sure there’s some psychology to this that I could benefit from learning about, but instead I grip the edge of the bar and hold tight, attempting to keep myself from jumping all over my boss.
“You okay?” He leans in closer and brushes a strand of hair from my face. “Do these people make you nervous?”
Not as much as you do.
“No,” I swallow hard and turn back toward the bar, grabbing jars of blackberry pie whiskey for the table, “I’m fine.”
He smells so good, like the center of a forest in mid-June, all pine and cedar with a hint of warmth.
Take me, take me right now, on top of this bar for everyone to see.
“If you need a break, go back to my office.” His big, muscular arm brushes against mine as he grabs the tray and heads toward the back table where the women who are supposed to be reconnecting with their husbands all stare.
I know it’s hard not to look at a giant with bulging biceps, deep blue eyes, and a head full of hair, but the way these ladies are all eye-fucking him is a little rude to their husbands … if you ask me.
No one is asking me, though. I’m just standing back here like a quiet, little troll studying all their expressions, watching the way their eyes follow him, wondering how faithful these women truly would be if their husbands weren’t around.
Ugh… I can’t imagine the reaction they’d be having right now if the tables were turned and some sexy girl was serving their men. Something tells me there would be some yelling, some screaming, maybe even a few tears.
Heart thumping against my chest, I grab the second tray of drinks and carry them toward the table. I know Archer asked me to stay back, but I really don’t want to watch him go back to that table for a second round.
His intense eyes meet mine with disapproval as I set the tray down and begin to slide mason jars between tiny bullet-sized vibrators, pussy pockets, dildos, and nipple clamps. I’ve looked at websites with toys like this before, but I’ve never actually used one.
I wonder what it would feel like to have that little egg vibrating on my clit, or to slide one of those giant dildos inside of me?Given the fact that there are entire parties surrounding their existence, I assume these toys must be amazing, so I slide an egg vibrator into my pocket, calling it a preemptive tip.
It’s around that time that I feel a pinch on my ass, followed by a rowdy laugh from the drunken man who I’d lost sight of when I bent toward the table.
I turn back, my face blazing hot, my heart pounding, rage taking over like a wildfire.
“You like that, don’t you?” the asshole snarks and leans in as though he’s going in for my breast next. The entire roomhushes quiet, and though I don’t take my eyes off the man, I feel everyone in the room stare.
