Kai
The door opens, and all four of us turn to look at who is about to enter as if hell broke loose and hellfire is about to start leaking into the bar.
To my surprise, it’s not hellfire, but Rachel and Noah who enter through the door.
She has a mischievous smile, and Noah mouths an apologetic “sorry” as they walk in.
“I did not tell her about the bar,” I rush to explain, but this conversation is too loud, and this place is too quiet.
The game has ended, and we didn’t bother to put on music since it’s only us and one of our regulars.
Our one remaining customer looks at us, terrified.
I’m not sure if he thinks he is too drunk and imagining this or if he is just concerned about his two favorite bartenders yelling at each other. He might be thinking we’ve lost it.
“What are you doing here, Rachel?” I grab a wine glass, set it in front of her, then take the bottle of red wine and fill the glass without asking. It’s the same type of wine as the empty bottles at her house, so I’m assuming it’s what she likes. I might be wrong.
She picks up the glass and inspects the red liquid, then takes a sip. A low hum of approval escapes her as she savors the rich red wine, and I know I was right. She loves it.
“You showed up at my work. I thought you might like it if I did the same.” She speaks softly, without a hint of anger—a contrast to the frantic, high-pitched voice I’ve only heard her use in the previous times we’ve met.
She is calm and is drinking her wine as if this is the most normal thing in the universe.
Because who wouldn’t stalk their stalker, right?
Leo approaches from behind me with Noah following him on the side of the bar where Rachel is. “How did you find the bar?” he asks Rachel, completely ignoring me. He is mad, and for a good reason. This is getting out of hand. Why is she even here?
“Your friend is not the only one who knows how to find people.” Rachel takes another sip of her drink, completely unbothered.
This girl is an absolute psycho. Leo is having a mental breakdown.
I am one step away from joining him. Noah has been a complete mess since last night, and you can tell from miles away.
And this girl is sitting here drinking her wine as if she didn’t commit a fucking crime the night before and is now at her victim’s place of business.
Of course, a sane person would argue that her victim also broke into her house this morning, installed a security system just to keep an eye on her, and visited her at work to give her oral sex and bring her coffee.
Oh, God, we are both insane. Maybe a group therapy session would be a good first date.
We can also bring the two men who are currently exchanging shy looks and attempting to make small talk. Double date.
“Kai came by the salon earlier and sent some coffee to Rachel afterward. The delivery guy told us who sent it; the name on the receipt was this location,” Noah explains.
Sneaky little criminal. She actually stalked me.
“We also found the video you posted.” He turns to look at me.
I chuckle, because that video has become so popular that I’ve reached 100k followers in a day.
“You still have the damn video up?” Leo screams. “And you went by her job? Who are you? What the hell is wrong with you, Kai?”
“Calm down, buddy. The video is a hit,” I joke, but he is not having it. Tough crowd.
“It’s also evidence of her crime,” Noah points out, and Rachel pretends to search her glass for her lost sanity.
“I promise you no one thinks this video is real.” I offer a piece of reassurance because I like this guy and would hate to worry him for no reason.
I’ve been keeping an eye on my comments.
Everyone is saying how funny it is. It’s social media, after all; no one believes what they see.
You could be showing a dead body, and they would think it’s special effects or something.
I pick up a case of empty beer bottles and head to the back, eager to escape the two men judging me and the crazy girl who occupies the space around me.
I carry it all the way to the back of the bar and set it on the floor the moment I enter the storage room.
I close the door behind me and take the pack of cigarettes from my back pocket.
Before I can light my damn cigarette and enjoy a moment of peace and quiet like a normal human being, the door opens, and here comes Rachel.
She strolls into the room as if she owns it, a smirk on her face.
“Hey, Biker Boy.” She closes the space between us and rips the cigarette from my lips.
She takes the lighter from my hand, lights the cigarette she stole, and steps back until she reaches the wall behind her.
A smug look on her face signals my little criminal is happy to torment me with her presence.
“What are you doing here, criminal?” I walk toward her, put my hand against the wall right above her head, and lean over.
I whisper in her ear, “Did you miss me so much that you had to stalk me at work?” I take the cigarette from her lips and toss it onto the floor before stepping on it. I’ll have to deal with this later.
“I’m not stalking you.” Her eyes are fixated on mine. “I’m simply visiting you, like you did this morning.”
“Yes, you are, and so was I,” I wink at her.
I don’t have an issue with admitting to a little stalking.
It’s healthy to admit it. Besides, I have done therapy for it.
I know the problem; I’m just ignoring it.
I still have a better grasp of the situation than this delusional woman in front of me.
“Unless you’re here to beg for another orgasm. ”
“I would never,” she responds, way too fast and not at all convincingly.
“Oh, I think you will,” I tease. My other hand falls between her legs, and I stroke her thigh over her pants. Her body tenses under my touch in a way that tells me more than her pretty mouth does.
“No, I won’t.” Her lips say no, but her eyes say yes.
It’s written all over them. It’s a big neon sign.
It says please. It says yes. It says everything my little criminal doesn’t.
Loud and clear. It’s fucking consent written all over her face.
I unbutton her pants. The stretchy material of her underwear is easy to bypass, and my hand finds her pussy.
She is wet for me, as I expected. My criminal likes this game we’re playing.
“Tell me, criminal, are you going to be my good girl?” I tease, my lips brushing hers, but I don’t kiss her. Not yet.
“Never,” her mouth says, but her lips curl into a smirk.
“Is that right?” I push a finger inside her, and she parts her legs, giving me more access. Her breath catches, and she bites her bottom lip.
“Never,” she repeats. The word is without meaning. The way it comes from her lips, it could mean yes. It could mean more. It could be a siren song keeping me hooked. It’s not even a word anymore when she repeats it again. “Never.”
“Oh, my sweet criminal. You’ll be begging for me in no time.
” I pull her pants with her underwear at the same time, all the way down and fall to my knees in front of my beautiful woman.
I unzip her boots one by one and slide them off her feet.
I help her out of the pants and underwear that are gathered around her ankles now and toss them to the side with her boots.
I remove my leather jacket, which I have the habit of wearing at work, as it does give a vibe.
It completes the look. I toss it along with her clothes.
I guide one leg onto my shoulder and grip her ass with both hands, bringing her pussy to my mouth.
I suck on her clit, and a moan comes from her lips.
“I will never beg,” she repeats, but the words are lost in her moans as I lick her faster.
I keep one hand gripping her ass hard and use the other one to fuck her tight pussy with my fingers.
Two of them slide in and out of her with ease as I suck on her clit.
Her sweet taste enters my mouth. She moans, a sweet melody in my ears.
It makes me harder. I can’t wait until I’m balls-deep inside her.
“Fuck.” She is close, I can tell. Her body is barely able to stay standing.
But I have different plans. She wanted to come lurking at my job, so I’ll show her how fun I can be.
I let her leg fall, and once I know she is steady enough, I rise from my spot.
She looks at me as if I have murdered her favorite book character.
Before she can say anything, I crash my lips against hers, claiming her mouth, her taste mixing with mine.
I unzip my jeans without breaking the kiss and free my cock.
I stroke myself against her pussy, and she moans against my lips.
I take a condom from my back pocket, my lips leaving hers.
I use my teeth to rip open the package. I remove the condom from it, but before I can put it on, she takes it from me.
She uses one hand to stroke me and the other to line up the condom with the tip of my cock. She rolls the rubber onto me and strokes me over it until she is satisfied. She pulls me closer by my T-shirt and hooks her right leg around my hip.
“Slow down, criminal,” I tease.
“Shut up and fuck me.” Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me twice.
I push inside her roughly, with no hesitation.
Because who am I to deny this woman? Her nails dig into the skin at the base of my neck, and I grab her ass, lifting her.
I pull out of her halfway and push into her again, ramming both of our bodies against the wall as I fuck her.
She moans, and I use the wall to steady her, freeing one of my hands before I put it against her mouth.
I whisper into her ear. “You will get us caught, little criminal, and you don’t want Leo coming in here.
Do you?” Her eyes widen as the information registers.
She nods, and I release her lips. I slow down, fucking her slowly, savoring the way her tight cunt feels around my cock.
I can feel her walls spasm around my shaft, and I can tell she is close to coming for me.
“Don’t come yet, little criminal. I want to feel you come as I do inside you.
” She moans a word that I can’t understand, and I pick up my pace, fucking her harder.
“Fuck, you feel so good, criminal,” I chant and continue fucking her until both of us can’t hold on for much longer.
“Come for me, little criminal,” I whisper into her ear.
“I want to feel you squeeze all the cum out of my cock.” She closes her eyes, and I can tell by the way she grabs my neck, her nails digging into my skin, that she is just over the edge.
“Get every fucking drop out of me.” I breathe out the words between moans of my own as I come hard inside the condom, cursing in my mind that I’m even wearing one.
I would have loved to see my cum dripping out of her pussy, but she is not ready for that yet.
She is not ready to know she is mine, and there is no bigger ownership statement than a pussy full of cum.
I pull out of her and help her feet reach the floor.
She is barely able to stand. “Shh...” I brush her hair out of her face and kiss her forehead.
“You are okay, sweetheart,” I whisper as I help her steady herself using the wall.
I reach for her pants and underwear. I remove the condom and tie it before I toss it into the trash can next to the door.
I fall to my knees in front of her and help her into her underwear first, then her pants, followed by her shoes.
Once she is completely dressed, I stand, tuck my cock back into my jeans, and zip up.
I put my jacket on before I fix her hair the best I can and use my finger to wipe away a stray smudge of lipstick. I push her chin up to inspect her.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, and she smiles.
“Better than okay.” She winks, and there she is: my unhinged little criminal.
“Have you eaten yet?” I ask as I prepare to return to the main area of the bar.
“Not since my lunch break,” she tells me.
“Come on, let’s get you some food,” I say as I guide her out of the storage room.
Leo and Noah are sitting at the bar; our remaining customer is long gone, and so is our waitress.
They are alone. Music is playing, drinks are in front of them, and two large pizza boxes are set next to them.
Noah is eating while Leo is talking about something.
I use my hand on Rachel’s back to guide her to them.
I help her onto a barstool, and I can tell she is still drained from our time in the storage room.
I give her the wine glass I offered her earlier and reach behind the bar for the bottle and another glass.
I pour some wine into my glass and then some into hers.
I take a paper plate from the stack Leo brought out—probably because the man hates washing any dishes he can avoid—and since those two are not exactly customers, it doesn’t matter if we eat off paper plates.
I take two slices out of the box and sit on the barstool next to Rachel.
I set our plates in front of us and take a sip of my wine before I set it next to my plate.
She doesn’t speak, clearly still trying to gather her thoughts after her orgasm.
I take a slice of pizza from her plate and bring it to her mouth.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screeches.
“Feeding you, obviously,” I say, staring into her eyes with one eyebrow raised.
“You are ridiculous,” she says with annoyance, but she takes a bite from the slice.
“Good girl,” I say with a smile, and she takes another bite. I could get used to this: my woman satisfied next to me, good food, wine, and my best friend laughing with a man of his own. It’s a good life.