Forever with the Bartender (The Forever Collection Book 6)

by Allie York

  Chapter Three

  Drake

  “Fuck.” I groan out the word, setting a pace that makes us both happy. I know she was a virgin, but after dragging my cock through her wet pussy, I couldn’t hold back. I slam into her. Her tight pussy squeezing my cock at each pass, and the door rattles on the hinges every time our hips meet. Kat’s breathing turns ragged, her glittery nails dig into my neck and shoulders, clinging to me while I keep her pinned with my hips and my hands cup her ass. I hit the perfect angle, stride, and rhythm making her mouth fall away from mine, teeth digging into her bottom lip, head thrown back. I can feel how close she is. Her muscles tighten, thighs shaking, eyes squeezed shut. This isn’t going to take long for either of us. The second her orgasm hits, she cries out, her pussy puts my dick in a fucking vise, and I can’t hold back. My balls tighten, the force of it running straight down my spine and making my knees weak. I come so hard I see stars, dropping my head to her neck and slamming into her until her screams of pleasure turn into whimpering. With a final roll of my hips, I stop, deep inside her, and catch my breath. I blink to clear my vision and loosen my bruising grip on her ass.

  “I…whoa.” Kat blinks at me. The second we make eye contact, her face flushes a deep red, “Kinda threw myself at you there.” She lets out an awkward laugh and something about it draws me to her. I lean in and brush my lips against hers. The laughing stops and for a fleeting moment, I see the very vulnerable part of Kat Morris. It’s more vulnerable than begging me to come drink as a runaway bride. Just as quickly, it’s gone. “I should let you get back to work. I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry.” She uncurls her hands from my neck, and I slide, very reluctantly, from her. She lets out a breath and drops her legs to the floor one at a time, teetering on the high heels. I step back, tucking myself back into my boxers and pulling my jeans up to my hips. I snatch a towel from the shelf behind the door and drop to my knees in front of her.

  “Why in the world would you be sorry? That was hot as fuck.” I don’t mention the fact she’s wearing a wedding dress makes it better, or if that wedding dress were for me, I’d never let her run away.

  “What are you-” Kat stops talking when I throw the dress over my head and slide the towel up her knee to her inner thigh and to her pussy, cleaning up any mess we made. I grab her panties while I’m on the floor and back out from under the dress. Kat looks mortified but mumbles a soft thank you. She holds out a hand for the white satin panties, but I shake my head and tuck them in my back pocket. “I need those!” She demands, hand out, fingers curling like a mother asking her child for what’s in their mouth.

  I pull them out of my pocket and hold them up, exposing the rip. “You need these? For what? Darlin’, I’ll buy you more.” I tuck them back in my pocket.

  “What are you going to do with them?” Kat smooths the front of her dress down anxiously, and eyes the door.

  I avoid the question. “Where are you going tonight? Is there someone for you to call?” Her face is already sporting a nasty bruise where that motherfucker hit her, and I want to track him down for it. I know I knocked him out cold and don’t want to know what Nate did to him, but it’s not enough.

  “I… I don’t know. I thought I’d get a hotel and figure it out.” Kat suddenly loses the dreamy look in her eyes from being fucked against the door. I want that look back and kick myself for asking. I have a plan though.

  “You have money with you? Clothes? Not to piss on your parade, but you didn’t even have an ID, and unless you’re hiding cash in the places I haven’t been, you need some help.” I wink at her to lighten the mood, but she glares. “I’m offering to help. I live upstairs and have a guest room.”

  “You’re a stranger.” She looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind.

  I rub my temples. “Look, I was just balls deep in your pussy. You want a place to stay tonight or not? I won’t expect a thing in return, and you can sort your stuff out. I’m assuming your family wants to know where you are.” At the mention of her family, Kat worries her lower lip between her teeth. “Now don’t get upset. Come here.” I pull her into a hug and gently kiss the bruise on her face. “I’ll get you settled and come close up. You make yourself at home.” I lead her from the office into the storeroom and up the stairs to my place. It’s not much, but has two bedrooms, a full bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. I remodeled when I got the bar and tried to keep it looking more like a home than a bachelor pad but glancing around with a woman in the space makes me realize it looks like a single man lives here. The dark colors, the leather couch, and the old beer signs make it feel manly. But it’s mine and it’s home.

  “It smells clean.” Kat has the front of her dress wadded in her hands to keep herself from tripping.

  “Good. It is clean.” I point to the doors. “Guest room, my room, bathroom. In my room, raid the drawers for clothes and get out of that ridiculous dress.” I smirk.

  “It was ten thousand dollars.” She lifts the poofy fabric and studies it.

  “And it took me all of a few minutes and two beers to ruin it.” My lips graze her ear and she shivers.

  “I can’t get out of it.” Kat meets my eyes and issues a silent challenge.

  “Are you asking me to treat it like I did your panties? The man who should be doing this is a damn fool and I’ll gladly take his place.” In one move, I have my hand on her bare upper back and her body against mine. She gasps and I grin. My fingers find the hook and zipper, and I make quick work of them. She grabs the top of the dress to hold it up and doesn’t break eye contact.

  “Take his place? You want to plan a wedding with me for years then get my sister pregnant?” She rolls her eyes.

  “No.” The word comes out sharp. “But I’ll gladly get you out of this dress and take care of what he should have been doing tonight.” I move toward the door to leave so she can get situated.

  “I think you already took care of that,” she calls, walking to my room, dress held up by nothing more than an arm across her chest.

  “You ain’t seen the half of it,” I yell back, stepping out the door and locking it behind me. I jog down the steps and back through the stockroom to the bar. The crowd’s thinned out, but I feel like a dick for bailing on Roni, so I tell her to dip out early, and I’ll still pay her for the full night. This late, no one is staying much longer, so she agrees, taking off her black apron to the cheers of a few patrons. Roni flips them off and gathers her tips. I start settling the tabs stacked up.

  “Where’d she go?” Roni changes out some of her small bills for larger ones in the drawer.

  “My place.” I answer.

  Roni stares at me. “Your place? Upstairs?”

  “Yeah.” I type in the tip on the receipt.

  “You took a runaway bride to your apartment after a drunk fucker hit her?” She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Did you fuck her up there?”

  “Now, Roni, that hurts. When have you known me to have relations with the patrons?” I laugh.

  “Never, that’s why I’m so confused.” Roni waves her hands dramatically.

  “Well, maybe this is different. And I fucked her in my office like a gentleman. Go home, I’ll see you tomorrow.” There’s enough finality in my words to make Roni pause before saying anything else. I can tell she doesn’t know whether or not to believe me. I wink at her.

  “Damn.” Is her only response as she grabs the cash from my hand and reaches under the counter for her bag. “Night Drake.” I give her a head tip and go back to doing my job. I’m not one to bring women home. Actually, since O’Malley’s became mine, it’s happened once and that was a nightmare. I also don’t share my personal life at work. Nate, Roni, and I are strictly professional. Well, I am, and Nate barely speaks. Roni talks to me and patrons about her life and that’s why she gets tips out the ass. She’s hot, in a quirky way. She has ever-changing hair, is covered in tattoos, and has piercings in her lip, nose, and ears. Not that Forever is totally backwards, but you
don’t see a lot of people like Roni around here. It’s one of the reasons I hired her. I liked that she expresses herself. She also has this way of playing up her assets that impresses me. Roni’s also the most friendly, happy person I’ve ever met. I’ll have to apologize for being short with her about Kat. It’s not her fault for being curious when I’ve done something so out of character. I watch Roni leave and start cleaning up for the night. I’m more ready to get upstairs than I have been in a long time.

  Chapter Four

  Kat

  I’m officially closer to a stranger than to my own fiancé. I’m in his apartment, on his couch, wearing his clothes, and I had sex with him. Being a virgin doesn’t mean I was naive to orgasms, or so I thought. But my vibrator’s got nothing on Drake Walland. Just thinking about it makes my skin tingle, and my lady bits get all excited. After leaving my wedding dress on the floor of the guest room, I went in search of something to put on since I didn’t even have panties and that dress did not leave room for a bra. I ended up with a pair of boxers and one of at least fifty black shirts from his dresser. Everything in his house is neat and in its place, but not overly so. There are magazines on the table, a few dishes in the sink, and dirty clothes in the hamper. I went through the fridge, which is pretty bare, and finally found a bottle of water and an ice pack. I laid back on the couch, ice on my face, sipping my water and contemplating my life.

  Will and I met freshman year of high school and had been inseparable ever since. We did everything together, or so I thought. Honestly, Christine sleeping with my fiancé shocks me less than my fiancé’s willingness to sleep with her. Will loves me. Or loved me, rather. I almost married him. Within minutes I was going to be Mrs. William Marks. I had my bouquet, my hair and dress were perfect, my groom was waiting and my sister… the look on her face when she told me wasn’t shame, or guilt. It was a triumph. I shoved the door open to see a full church and marched down the aisle, but not to the wedding march. It was to the beat of my heart because I wanted him to tell me it was a lie. I walked right up to the front, with God, the preacher, and my family as witnesses and demanded he tell me. He didn’t have to. The look on his face said it all. I slapped him, lifted my dress, and stormed out. Will was stupid enough to always leave his keys in the visor, so I got in his cute little Bentley and drove. I didn’t even go back for my purse and my phone was shoved between my boobs. I’m sure he called the cops for grand theft auto, or whatever it’s called when you steal a car, but I truly don’t care. They can arrest me if they want.

  I turned my phone off once I laid back on Drake’s couch. I don’t want to see another text or get another call. You’d think any decent parents would be devastated by the fact that their daughter was hurt so badly onher wedding day, but no. Not Greg and Melanie Morris. They’re mad they spent all my wedding money and I left. It embarrassed them. I embarrassed them, not Christine and not Will. Me. Because I should have gotten married and helped my husband raise his child with my sister apparently.

  I thought about going back down for another drink, but decided I’d been humiliated enough for one day without going down to a bar in a guy’s underwear after I just let him screw me against a door. Part of me wants to regret that decision, but I don’t, I can’t. I always looked at virginity as this special thing. Will and I were going to walk that path together, but after finding out he decided it was a little less special, I have no regrets. It hurt less than I thought it would after hearing all the horror stories. Instead of being an awkward, painful experience, it was hot as hell and oh so good. Drake definitely knows what he’s doing in that arena.

  “Hey darlin’, need a drink?” Drake holds up two beers and I sit up, setting the ice pack on the table.

  “Sure.” I sigh and watch him stride toward me. He’s all man. No polos and colorful golf shorts for Drake. He’s all low-slung jeans and tight black tees. He kicks off his black boots and settles next to me, popping the cap off before handing it to me. I take a sip and flop back in a very unladylike position.

  “My clothes look good on you.” He drags his gaze down my body, hesitating for only a second on his shirt stretched across my chest. No bra means the girls are on full display.

  “Thanks,” I mumble into my beer bottle. “For everything.” I meet his eyes for a second and mine threaten to fill with tears. Ugh. Why does he make me feel so vulnerable?

  He sets the beer down, slides back on the couch, and tips his head for me to move closer. “Come here.” His tone leaves no room for arguing, so I slide over, and he wraps me in his arms. I fall into his chest and let the tears fall again. The worst part is, I’m not even sure which part makes me cry. Also, I’m an ugly crier. I hate that Drake’s about to see me this way again, but I let go, sobbing into his chest. “Let it out.” He pats my back, rubs my shoulder, and even more shocking, he kisses my head. It’s one of those things you read about. Forehead kisses. And they truly surpass all expectations. The second his lips press into my hairline, I turn into a giant puddle of goo in his lap. At the second forehead kiss, I’m ready for round two and turn to face him better, throwing a leg over his lap to straddle him. A sexy smirk moves across his lips, and he reaches up to wipe the tears from my eyes. I lean in to kiss him, shimmying in closer and wrapping my arms around his neck. Drake kisses me back, slow, sensual, and runs his hands up my thighs to my hips. In my rational brain, I know what I’m doing is a distraction from my shitshow of a life, but right now I don’t care that I’m using him. And if the bulge in his pants is any indication, he doesn’t care either. Until I drag my lips from his and reach for his belt again.

  He puts a hand on mine to stop me and his face tells me it wasn’t an easy decision, “You need some sleep.” He cups my face in one hand and pulls my lips to his. “You want the guest bed?”

  “Sure,” I snap.

  “None of that. Trust me, I wanna spread you out on this couch right now and devour every fucking inch of you, but it’s late, you had the shittiest day ever and need some rest.” And then he does it again. He leans in and presses his lips right to my forehead. I sigh and not quietly. Drake slides me off his lap, stands, and adjusts the front of his jeans. My eyes go straight to it and when I realize I’m staring, I look up to see an amused expression on his face. “See? This is taking a lot of self-control.” He winks at me and pulls me to my feet. Before he leads me to the guest room, he pulls me into a tight hug, and I squeeze him back.

  The guest room is nothing more than a twin bed, a dresser, and a TV. Drake leaves and comes back with two pills and my bottle of water. I toss the pills back, drink the water, and put the bottle on the floor near the bed. With one more kiss, he leaves me, closing the door softly behind him. It’s like he sucked all the life from the room when he went. The room feels empty, and I feel alone. I hear Drake’s door close next to mine and I throw myself back on the bed. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but after the day I’ve had, I feel justified.

  When my back’s not comfortable, I try my side, then my stomach. Nothing makes me sleep no matter how exhausted I am. I stare at the door, willing it to open, for him to call for me, but nothing happens. A creak comes from his room, then another, and another. I stand up, inching toward the wall separating us, and listen. There are footfalls and three squeaks coming from different areas beyond the wall. Drake’s pacing. It kind of breaks my heart that he’s so restless. I go to the door, ready to demand he let me spend time with him when I realize the pacing stopped. Nothing else happens. Not a sound. I’m dying to go to him. Yes, I know I’m being weirdly clingy with a man I just met, but he was my first and I can totally fantasize about him falling madly in love with me. I knew Will for years, and that turned out terrible, so maybe going the other way will work in my favor.

  I jump and squeal when the door to my room opens and Drake’s there, silhouetted by the light from the hall in nothing but a pair of boxers and a lopsided grin. “Sorry. I heard you up in here and thought I’d invite you to my side of the wall.”

  He
doesn’t have to ask me twice.

  Chapter Five

  Drake

  The words barely leave my mouth before Kat strides past me, squeezing between me and the door frame. She takes my hand on her way and pulls me to my bedroom. I don’t bother closing the door behind us. “Which side?” Her smaller hand in my large one feels so right.

  “You pick.” I watch Kat tap her chin in indecision for a few seconds before settling on my side of the bed. I don’t say a fucking word while I watch her get comfortable and curl her body around my pillow.

  “Are you coming?” She looks up at me, fresh faced and sleepy.

  I can’t help but smirk, “We already did that, darlin.” I pop one brow at her and watch her face turn red before I climb in the bed. I click off the light, slide an arm around her middle, and pull her back to my front. Kat tenses for a split second before wrapping her fingers around mine and breathing out a long sigh of relief. All I can think is this woman’s mine. I can honestly say, at thirty, I’ve never slept with anyone. I’ve probably dozed after sex, but I always left. It makes me sound like a dick, but trust me, they weren’t expecting me to stay. Instead of tossing and turning for hours, I rest my head near hers, breathing in the fresh scent of her flowery shampoo, and fall right asleep.

  My phone wakes me up and I roll over, patting the nightstand to hit snooze, when I realize it’s ringing. “Drake Walland.” I grumble into the phone quietly so I don’t wake my guest. But reaching for her, I find cold sheets. Fuck. I don’t even realize I’m holding my phone upside down until I realize the voice coming through is muffled. I flip it over. “Yeah.” I really don’t care who it is or why until I hear the voice clearly. I get out of bed and go in search of my house guest, heart pounding. I swear if she left without telling me…