Pulling my Screwdriver up to my lips, I take a swallow, the alcohol no longer possessing quite the stinging bite the first few sips did. “I’m with Alyssa. I need someone sweet… like Brody or Hunter. So, let’s try to find me someone tonight,” I finish off with a huge dose of bravery that I might actually go on the prowl tonight.
Fat chance.
That’s just not in my nature, to make the moves on a man. I’m too introverted and unfortunately, I’m one of those women that will just have to wait for my Prince Charming to come after me.
5
I tilt the glass back and swallow down the last of the Oban. I’ve lost track of how many I’ve drank, but I’m f**king buzzed as hell so I’m thinking it’s been quite a few. The bartender, I think he said his name is Brody… looks like he may want to cut me off. Or maybe that jaundiced look he’s delivering at me has something to do with the fact that I’ve shunned any attempt he’s made at conversation tonight other than to thank him for every glass of Scotch he’s set down in front of me.
The only reason I’m here—in a local bar in a strange town on a Friday night—is because when I finally surfaced from my writing cave after two hard days of work, I realized I didn’t have any liquor in the house. I wholeheartedly felt I deserved a drink, seeing as how I banged out a solid five thousand words on my manuscript over the last two days.
Unfortunately, the five thousand words I managed to type didn’t get me anywhere closer to finishing this project. Rather, I ended up adding a new character to the book, which twisted my plot line just a bit, and will end up making more work for me in the end, but what the hell… I’ve been inspired by my new cleaning woman.
Yes, the new character is a soft-spoken, wisp of a woman with dark brown hair and warm, brown eyes. She’s shy and innocent, and I intend to serve her up on a platter to the villain in the story, a demonic warlord who peddles in drugs and prostitution and loves to dirty up his prey before he devours them.
“Want another?” Brody asks as he steps in front of me and drags me from my musings.
“Sure,” I tell him and pull a twenty from my stack of bills lying before me, pushing it across the wooden surface of the bar. “Make it a double.”
He gives me a curt nod and pulls the Oban off the shelf behind him. Tipping it over my glass to pour, he doesn’t attempt to make any further small talk with me.
“Do you have a cab service around here?” I ask as he tilts the bottle back straight and pushes the scotch closer to me.
“Absolutely. Need me to call you one?” he asks with a smile.
Shaking my head, I tell him, “Not yet, but soon. I’ll let you know.”
He nods at me again, another small smile, and I feel like I’ve made him happy by asking for a cab. I’m guessing he must have been worried I’d drink and drive, but that’s a worry he can leave behind. I don’t make stupid mistakes like that. Brody picks up the twenty I had pushed toward him and makes change at the register. When he returns, I hold up my hand to stop him. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks,” he says as he puts it in the tip jar and turns away from me.
Feminine laughter gets louder and I look behind me to see what all the noise is about. A door to the back deck area swings open, and the voice of several women laughing filters through. To my surprise, my new little housekeeper walks in to the bar, her head turned back to the women I can just see sitting around a table littered with empty drink glasses.
“You girls are rotten. I’ll see you later,” Savannah calls out to the women, then she turns with a huge smile on her face and a chuckle pouring over those generous lips as she walks through the door, letting it close softly behind her.
She doesn’t see me, but rather makes a beeline straight to the bathroom facilities to the left of where I’m sitting.
Interesting… looks like sweet Savannah is having a fun night out with friends. She didn’t seem to be the type to do that. Rather, I sort of imagined her sitting at home reading a book with an old cat on her lap or something. At least, that’s the way I wrote her character in my novel, and I’m usually a pretty good judge of character.
“Want to buy me another drink?”
Turning to my right, I smile at the woman standing next to me. Can’t remember her name for shit, but she introduced herself to me a little bit ago and I bought her a shot of tequila. I don’t know if it’s the scotch working some magic but she’s pretty f**king hot. Long, blond hair, a magnificent set of tits, and a slammin’ ass that would look fantastic while I f**ked her from behind.
“Sure,” I tell her with a smile, waving my hand to catch Brody’s attention. I point at the woman and call out, “Shot of Patrón Silver.”
Can’t remember the woman’s name, but I can sure remember what she’s drinking.
She takes her fingertip and runs it down my forearm as it rests against the bar. “So, leaving any time soon?”
“Probably after another drink or so,” I tell her, my eyes straying down to the creamy swells of her br**sts, which are plumped out over the top of some type of black, corset-like top she’s wearing.
“Want some company?” she asks coyly, but her eyes pin me with direct confidence.
My smile becomes calculated, because it’s clear what she’s asking. “I’d love some. Want to give me a ride home?”
“I’d like nothing better,” she says as she leans her face in toward me, nipping my ear with her teeth. “Come find me when you’re ready.”