You're All I Need (Burgers and Brew Crüe #10)

Chapter One

Caden

“Last call!”

I take a sip of ginger ale and glance around the packed bar. Burgers and Brew is the hot spot in town, and despite it being a gorgeous summer Friday night, the place is still packed with patrons. The ladies are having a great time, dancing and singing to the Motley Crüe tunes blasting from the jukebox, the fellas enjoying the show and hoping to catch someone’s attention by the end of the night.

“Is this seat taken?” The low, sexy voice purrs like a kitten in heat beside me.

Turning to face the owner of said voice, I flash her an easy, sexy grin. “It is now,” I tell her, even though I know the chair was previously occupied by someone who just ran to use the restroom.

“Well, good evening, stranger,” Jordyn Jones coos, leaning into my personal space. I catch a whiff of her sweet perfume and a full view of the ample cleavage pouring out the top of her tank.

“How have you been, beautiful?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink.

“Not too bad. Haven’t seen you around much. I’ve missed you,” she replies, her voice dripping with seduction. I’m well-versed in this game. The invitation is already extended. All I need to do is take her hand and lead her out the door. I’ve done it before—a few times, actually. Jordyn and I are “old friends,” you could say. She knows the rules and doesn’t mind playing by them, which is one of the things I appreciate most about her.

The rules, you ask?

Simple.

I don’t date.

I don’t fall in love.

I’m just here for a good time.

If you’re expecting a call and flowers the next day, then I’m not your guy. I make my stance crystal clear, never leading a woman on. Our time together is a night or two, and that’s it.

Fun.

Easy.

Casual.

And best of all, no one gets hurt.

Liar.

Of course, not all women who say they’re fine with a casual night of sex actually are. There’s always the one who thinks she can change you, who can tame the bad boy, make him give up his manwhore ways. Well, a zebra doesn’t change its stripes, honey. Once they realize I’m not some wild stallion looking to be tamed and saddle broke, they turn angry. At me. Despite being upfront and honest about what I can—or can’t—offer, they still get pissed off in the end.

What can I offer?

Orgasms. Lots and lots of them.

What won’t I offer?

Forever.

“Been working a lot,” I reply, leaning against the counter.

“You know what they say,” she starts, leaning in and whispering, “all work and no play makes Caden a dull boy.”

Angling my lips to brush across her jaw, I reply, “I’ve never been accused of being dull, gorgeous.”

A shiver sweeps through her as she turns her gray eyes my way. “I’m well aware.” Standing up tall, she slides her hand up my thigh, letting her fingers dance awfully close to my junk. “What do you say? You wanna get out of here? Find someplace a bit more…private?”

I’m about to open my mouth, yet undecided on which answer I’m going to give, when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. My gaze snaps forward, to the stunning woman approaching.

Adrienne keeps a friendly, knowing smile on her face as she comes to stand in front of me on the opposite side of the bar. “Last call. Can I get you anything? Another ginger ale, perhaps?” she teases, her lips continuing to curl upward and making my cock notice.

There’s been something about this exotic beauty. From the first moment I saw her to the way she told me to knock my shit off when I tried to flirt with her. She’s fire and sass all packaged up in a gorgeous bow, and all I want to do is unwrap her like a Christmas gift.

“I’m good, sugar,” I reply with a wink, taking another sip of my drink.

I can’t help but notice Adrienne pays absolutely no attention to the woman beside me, turning and walking away as if Jordyn wasn’t even there. “Well, that was rude,” Jordyn grumbles, tapping her fingernails against my thigh. “What if I wanted a drink?” she adds with a pout.

My eyes move back to the bartender, who’s pouring a draft beer and laughing at something a patron says. Her curves are accentuated by the clothes she wears, but not overly so. Her company tee is tight, and the way it hugs her body makes my jeans a little tighter in the crotch. Adrienne is what some might call thick, but all I see is a sexy, gorgeous woman.

One I wouldn’t mind hearing scream my name a time or two sometime soon.

“So what do you say, Caden? Buy me a drink? Or would you prefer to head out now?”

I return my gaze to the woman at my side. Her blond hair is sleek and shiny, not a strand out of place, and her makeup looks like it was applied professionally. I bet she spent hours getting ready to go out this evening. Normally, I’d be thrilled to undo everything she spent time doing, but I’m just not feeling it tonight.

What the hell?

I wave over Adrienne. “Get the lady whatever she wants and put it on my tab,” I say, taking another sip of cold soda.

Adrienne’s eyebrows raise in question as she shifts her focus to Jordyn. “A Dirty Shirley, please,” Jordyn replies, leaning a little closer toward me and pressing her tits against my arm.

Adrienne flashes a smile, and if I’m not mistaken, barely contains her eye roll. I watch, mesmerized, as she goes about making the mixed drink. I’ve heard about Dirty Shirleys, but never actually heard anyone order one. It’s a take on the classic Shirley Temple drink we used to enjoy as a kid, but with a kick of vodka. And by the looks of it, a small kick.

The bartender slips a cherry onto a drink pick, along with a wedge of lime, and plops it down in the concoction. “One Dirty Shirley,” she says, sliding the glass across the bar.

“Thank you,” Jordyn sings, reaching for the glass. She instantly pulls out the pick and swirls her tongue around the cherry. I’m certain it’s meant to be seductive, but when I hear Adrienne snort, I can’t help but find it humorous.

Jordyn narrows her eyes at the other woman and pokes her teeth into the cherry, gently pulling it from the pick. She turns to me and practically purrs like a cat. “Yum.”

I lift my own drink and hold it up in salute. “Enjoy.”

Jordyn’s face falls as realization sets in. She huffs and spins around, walking away in a flurry of expensive perfume.

“A Dirty Shirley, Caden? Really?”

I shrug and finish off my ginger ale. “I didn’t pick it.”

She stands up tall, her hands resting comfortably on the edge of the bar. Her fingers are long, her nails short and manicured, and all I can think about is those hands wrapped around…something else. “No, but you picked her at some point, right?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

“Touché,” I reply, sliding my empty glass her way.

“Another?” she offers a second time, but I wave it off.

“I’m good, but thanks.”

She takes my empty glass and places it in the bin to wash. Then, she moves about the bar, starting the nightly process of closing it down. Walker is here, the man who runs the bar, as are Jasper and Jameson. They’re standing at the end of the bar, watching, as patrons slowly start to make their way to the exits.

Pulling out my credit card, I set it on the bar top in front of me and wait to pay my tab. A group of rowdy guys stand in the middle of the room, loudly egging each other on. I can’t tell what they’re hollering about, but each statement is followed by a gaggle of laughter. There’s no missing the way Jameson—or Tank, as many of the employees call him—takes notice and starts moving in their direction.

Jameson is the muscle, as well as the man to provide Friday and Saturday night entertainment, and even for a man in his early forties, I wouldn’t fuck with him. He takes no shit, and even though I’ve been told he seems mellower now he’s married with kids, he’s not someone you want to fuck with.

Turning, I watch as the big, tattooed man approaches the group of four. “Time to go, gentlemen,” Jameson states, his voice firm.

The loudest one of all of them laughs and turns to face Jameson. “Five more minutes, grandpa.”

Jameson crosses his arm over his chest. “Now.” That one word was practically a growl.

The fearless, drunk patron reaches out, attempting to push Jameson’s shoulder. I sit up straight, ready to act if needed, but I know it won’t be necessary. Jameson’s a tough SOB, but more than that, two of the other business owners are approaching, preparing to act if necessary. Even at four to one, I’d still place my money on Jameson.

When the drunk pushes against Jameson’s shoulder and he doesn’t move, the slightest flicker of a smile ticks across his lips. Jameson’s enjoying this, and I am here for it. Not that I want to watch some poor drunk mid-twenties guy get his ass handed to him by a forty-year-old badass, but, well, he does deserve it.

Jameson grabs the man’s hand and not-so-gently removes it from his shoulder. Even from where I sit, I can tell it’s being bent at an awkward, painful angle. “Don’t. Touch.”

The drunk guy bends back, wobbling on his two legs as he tries to adjust his positioning. Unfortunately, nothing works, and he’s left standing there, reeling in pain. “S-sorry,” he mutters, a sweat breaking out across his forehead.

“This is my place, and what I say goes. It’s time for you and your friends to leave,” Jameson declares.

The guy glances over at his friends. “Time…to…go,” he mutters between gasps.

The other three all nod, and the moment Jameson releases his hold, they scurry toward the door as if their asses were on fire. “Make sure you call a ride,” Jameson hollers before they cross the threshold.

Walker sighs and starts walking toward the door. “I’ll make sure they don’t drive.”

Everyone dissipates from watching the show, and with each group that leaves, Jameson makes sure they have a ride. I feel someone approaching and turn just as Jordyn sidles up beside me once more. “You sure you don’t want to head out with me?” Moving closer so her mouth brushes against my ear, she whispers, “You look like you want me riding your cock for the rest of the night.”

While I can’t deny the fact I get a rush of blood pumping to my groin at the picture she paints, I’m just not feeling it tonight. Especially when I glance over to where Adrienne is stocking a beer cooler, ass pointed directly at me. All I can think about is a whole list of inappropriate things I want to do to her and that booty.

Jordyn chuckles and shakes her head. “Maybe another time,” she coos, leaning in and kissing my cheek. “You know my number.” She spins around and returns to where her friends are waiting at the door.

She’s right. I have her number.

As I return my focus ahead, Adrienne is at the register and prints out a slip of paper. She brings it to where I sit and sets it on the bar. “Your tab.”

Without even glancing at the amount, I hand over my card. I know it won’t be too much, considering I had two ginger ales and whatever mixed drink Jordyn had. I drop two twenties on the bar. “Exciting night.”

She chuckles, a low, gravelly sound that goes straight to my balls. “I always enjoy when a young guy thinks he’s ten feet tall and bulletproof and Tank shows him otherwise.”

I crack a smile, falling into that easy banter and conversation we seem to engage in. “Does it happen a lot?”

Adrienne pauses and looks over my shoulder, clearly in thought. “No, not too much. Most people know not to fuck with him. I think I’ve seen him throw mouthy people out on three or four occasions since I’ve been here.”

“I’ve witnessed Jameson getting a little…feisty.”

She smiles widely, elbows on the bar as she leans my way. There’s no missing the ample cleavage she flashes, even though I know that’s not her intent. Her tits aren’t on display like Jordyn’s were, but there’s also no way for Adrienne to cover them up. She’s got curves and boobs. Lots and lots of glorious boobs. “I like feisty.”

My dick is hard, my balls aching. My very male, very overactive, very dirty imagination is running wild right now like a teenager on Red Bull and Pixy Stix. “Me too. I could help you explore that, darlin’.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “You couldn’t handle me, cowboy. I’d hurt you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, I reply, “Pain is pleasure, sweetheart. I love a good challenge.”

She shakes her head and stands up straight. “I think you mean pleasure is pain.”

I enjoy a good sexually laced repartee, and for some reason, it’s always top-notch with Adrienne. Ever since I met her, she’s fueled this fire deep inside me I didn’t even realize I needed stoked. Something tells me she’s every bit as feisty as she suggests, and I am here for it.

The crazy part is, it’s nothing more than banter. I’ve never slept with her, even though I’d jump off the deep end of a shark-infested pool if given the opportunity. But it’s more than that. She’s fun and gives just as good as she gets. Adrienne is witty and spunky, and that only enhances her already over-the-top beauty. Her sass is a huge turn-on.

She’s the whole package.

Sexy as hell.

Walker returns, shaking his head. “They were getting into an illegally parked Yukon down the street. I made them call a friend for a ride home and waited until their ride arrived. Best part was, there was a ticket waiting on the windshield for parking in front of a marked fire hydrant.”

“Serves them right,” Jasper states, as they start their nightly close-down process.

I’m one of the final patrons, and even though no one has said anything about me vacating my stool and their establishment, I don’t want to push my luck. Leaving the cash at the edge of the bar with my tab, I stand up and stretch my arms over my head.

Adrienne reaches for the cash and takes it to the register. When she realizes how much she’s holding, she turns my way and arches her eyebrow in question. “Keep it. You deal with a lot of crap.” My bill was about ten bucks, so while a thirty-dollar tip isn’t life-changing, it’s a little something to show my appreciation for what she does and the crap she has to put up with.

“Thanks,” she states, paying my tab and slipping the rest of the money into the jar.

I wave at the guys, even though none of them are particularly paying me any attention. “Have a good one, everyone,” I holler. “Safe travels home,” I tell Adrienne.

Just as I turn to head for the front entrance, I hear, “Mind giving me a ride home tonight?”

I pause, returning my attention to the bar. “You don’t have a ride?” I ask unnecessarily, considering she asked me for a ride.

She shrugs. “Car’s in the shop.”

“Okay,” I reply immediately, returning to my seat, but then quickly noticing Jameson is placing the stools on top of the bar for the night.

I jump into action, starting at my end and meeting him at about the halfway point. “Thanks,” he says before heading off to complete another task.

Even though I’m not really sure what to do to help, there’s no way I can just sit here and watch while they close up the bar for the night. I head to the walk-in cooler, where Jameson is now pulling cases of beer to stock their coolers. I move what he’s setting outside the door and take them to where Walker is filling coolers.

Walker nods in acknowledgement, setting the empty cases out of the way and tearing into another.

I help break down the empty boxes and carry them outside with Jasper, who is tossing trash bags into the dumpster. “Thanks for your help.” He takes the boxes from me and places them in the dumpster.

“You’re welcome.”

He turns and pins me with a look. “You’re hanging around longer than normal.”

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Adrienne asked for a ride home, and I thought I’d help clean up instead of just sitting there, waiting and watching her work.”

Jasper continues to watch me, as if gauging my response for sincerity and truth. After a few seconds, he states, “She’s new in town.”

Annoyance fills my chest as my eyes narrow. “I’m aware.”

The whole big brother routine continues as he adds, “We all like her. Just…be careful.”

“Or else?” I ask, chuckling at my little joke.

But the moment I see his dark eyes thinning into little slits, I realize he didn’t appreciate my joke. “Yeah, or else.”

With that, he makes his way back inside, leaving me standing here under the security lights in the parking lot, wondering what in the fuck that was all about. I haven’t done anything wrong to warrant the whole tough-guy act from Jasper, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought it. Adrienne’s fucking hot, and I won’t deny I’ve had plenty of fantasies in the recent weeks fueled by her. Jasper knows my reputation. Hell, everyone knows it. I’m a love ’em and leave ’em guy. No strings. I’m not ashamed of it, especially when the women I’m with know the score.

Just as I open the door and step inside the building, Adrienne’s there. “Ready?” she asks with a pleasant smile.

“Yep,” I reply, pulling my keys out of my pocket. “Let’s roll.”