7. Leif
7
“Do I actually need to know how to pour beer? I thought I was just here to intimidate the staff into doing their own jobs properly?”
I watch as Gage pinches his nose, trying not to lose patience with his baby brother.
“Weekends are our busiest nights. You may need to step in and help serve.”
“Excuse the fuck out of me, sir,” Mason says, a hand to his chest in mock offence. “I am a drinker, not a pourer.”
Gage blows out a breath while I hide my smile behind my half-empty beer.
I’ve been listening to this for the last hour, keeping one eye on the door, hoping to see a curvy little blonde strut in, full of sass and desire. But no luck so far.
“If you’re so hard up for help, why don’t you employ another bartender?”
“I don’t need another bartender, but with me going away, my team is down one.”
Mason crosses his arms, a frown covering his usually upbeat face. “Still sounds to me like you need another bartender.”
“For fuck’s sake, Mason.”
“Hey, Keeley!” Mason shouts to another bartender as she passes behind Gage.
“Yeah?”
“You got any friends who know how to bartend and want to do a cash job next weekend?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Gage rages.
“Solving a problem,” Mason says without an ounce of apology.
Keeley nods. “Got some people I can reach out to who I’ve done private catering gigs with.”
“Perfect! Find me anyone who can do a full Friday or Saturday night.”
“You got it.” She nods at Mase before pausing at Gage. “Don’t worry, boss. You know we got this place covered while you’re gone.”
“Thanks, Keels.” Gage straightens on Mase, folding his beefy, tattooed arms over his bulging chest.
The guy is intimidating as fuck.
There’s a silver ring through the middle of his bottom lip and another through one nostril, a bunch more up one ear. His hair is a mess of tangled, dark locks on top and faded short along the sides, only highlighting all the piercings on his face and the tattoos that stretch to his neck.
“For my own peace of mind, would you fucking be here next weekend so I can check in? I don’t want these guys stopping to answer a phone call.”
“Good god! Can you find a woman or something to take care of the obvious frustrations you harbour?” Mase waves his hand around, gesturing to the lower half of Gage’s hulking body.
“I think he knows what you mean without pointing directly at it, Mase.” I can’t help but laugh now, causing Gage and Mason to pull their attention to me.
Where Gage’s eyes are rough and hard, matching his demeanour, Mason’s are a perfect duality of his focused and whimsical sides. I’m certain the mismatch of one green eye and one blue is at least eighty per cent responsible for his popularity with the opposite sex.
“I’m sure he hasn’t used it in so long, he’s probably forgotten how to find it,” Mason says, earning a slap to the back of the head from Gage.
“I can find it just fine, dickhead.”
“That’s the problem, we need someone else to find it.” Mason speaks to me behind his hand as Gage walks down the bar to help with the growing line of customers.
“Surely he doesn’t struggle for volunteers in that department.” My heart stutters at the familiar rasp in those words.
Sure enough, when I turn to the voice, there’s a bombshell waiting with a devious smile on her face.
“Well, hello there, sweetheart,” I hear Mason purr, but I can’t pull my eyes off her to tell him to back off.
“Hi, handsome. You serving back there or just here to make things look pretty?” She props her elbow on the bar, resting her chin in her palm.
I can see her long nails coated in black like the little rebel she is. Pouty lips painted red, and I’m already aching to have them mark my cock.
“For you, sweetheart, I’d learn.”
“She’ll have a sex on the beach,” I say, my eyes still fixed on her, and she tilts her face to me.
Her short, blonde hair is in soft waves, shaped around her angelic face and dusting her shoulders every time she moves.
“You’re in luck. I’m already an expert on that,” Mason says.
That gets my attention, so I pin him with a warning look. “Not with this one.”
His mouth twists, and he winks at her, purposely stirring me up. “Whoops. Sorry, sweetheart. Big boy’s telling me no. Isn’t that rude?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs, with a secret little smile on her face. “I kinda like when he bosses me around.” Her words are an addictive mix of soft and confident as her fingers find my wrist, fiddling with the black beads wrapped around it.
My stomach buzzes with anticipation, hoping I can spend another night with this woman.
“Do I get to learn your name this time?”
She tilts her head in thought for a moment before saying. “Bombshell.”
The nickname that slipped from my lips the first time we were together.
That’s how I’ve been thinking of her all week, too.
“Okay.” I chuckle. Nothing too personal. “What’s your favourite colour?”
“Pink.”
My eyes make a slow perusal of her body encased in a black dress. I sneak a hand over to play with the soft, ruffled hemline.
“What’s your essential movie treat?”
She throws her head back and groans, making my dick jump in my pants. “Red licorice,” she answers with a smile “What’s your favourite food?”
I’m surprised by her willingness to play along. I already get the sense she’s not one for in-depth conversation with bed partners, but I’ll happily bite.
“My mum’s beef stew and hash,” I answer.
“Oh, yeah?” She bites into that bottom lip, gracing me with a playful glint in her eyes that has me flat-out obsessing. Fuck, she’s so pretty. “Are you a mama’s boy?”
“My mum has definitely learned how to get the men in her life to do anything she asks.” I shrug. “Maybe that makes me a mama’s boy. But if she’s cooking, I don’t mind it one bit.”
“That’s sweet.”
“What’s your favourite flower?” If I can’t get her name, I’m gonna be damn sure I can learn anything else she’ll willingly hand over to me.
“Roses. Any colour. Your favourite place to travel?”
I lean in closer to her, the smell of plum and vanilla hitting my senses and making my pulse skyrocket, remembering the last time that scent consumed me.
“Sweden. Mum took me when I was sixteen to visit her family.”
“Ahhh, so you really are a Viking?”
“I don’t know about that.” I chuckle. “You should see my uncle. Ice blond hair, seven feet tall.”
“Is he single?” Moving the hand that was still toying with her hemline, I dig into her ribs, tickling her.
The most delighted giggle falls from her lips. I want to record it and set it as my ringtone.
Instead, I drag her barstool closer to me, leaving her right between my open thighs.
My nose dives into her neck, inhaling. I’m already addicted to her perfume, her soft skin, the warmth radiating from it. I drag my tongue slowly up her neck and leave a kiss just behind her ear.
“You looking to be punished, Bombshell?”
“Am I still waiting for your drink order? Because this little peacock display you guys have going on has me needing to find someone to flirt with. Badly.”
I didn’t realise Mason was still standing behind the bar in front of us, witnessing just how thoroughly I’m owned by this woman.
“Hold the cocktail, Casanova,” I tell Mason as I stand up, drain what’s left of my beer and wrap an arm around my beauty queen’s waist, hauling her into me.
I lean down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t think I can watch you suck on a straw for however long you take to finish a cocktail when I know damn well you’ll enjoy sucking on my cock far better.”
“Did you drive?” she asks, and all I do is nod.
I only had one light beer to keep my hands busy, hoping my night would finish exactly the way it’s about to.
“You think you can’t wait for me to finish a cocktail?” she says. “Who says I can wait until my place to suck your cock?” She looks pointedly down at the growing bulge in my jeans. “Hope you’re a good driver, Lover Boy.”
For her, I’ll be anything.