Bartender with Benefits

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Bartender with Benefits Page 28

by Mickey Miller


  “And Luca, they’re in the back.”

  “Exactly. Why the need for a kiss?”

  “Practice,” I dipped my head. “You tense up whenever I touch you. That’s a giveaway when we’re in public.” I opted not to mention I wanted our first kiss to be just for us. Private. I didn’t count the one in the alley. I’d stolen it, instead of her giving it to me freely.

  Her palm slid over my T-shirt. I’d dressed down in preparation for the game. I wore power suits like they were going out of style, but sometimes it was nice just being me. The old me at least: a young punk from the South Loop. “Well, I suppose we could.”

  Huskiness slipped into her voice, and I willed my cock to stay quiet. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

  Kelly licked her lips and looked up at me through her lashes.

  “Kiss me, Kel.” It wasn’t a request, but an order.

  She trembled in my arms as I wound them tighter around her. Did she like a bit of aggression? Because I sure as fuck was feeling the urge to dominate her. Her hair was the perfect length to twist around my fist and pull while I jackhammered into her sweet pussy.

  I expected her to balk. Hell, I expected her to tell me to go fuck myself and stalk out. But she melted, all buttery and willing in my arms. Kel was tallish for a girl, at least the Italian girls I knew. They tended to be short and stacked. Kelly was all long legs and lean athleticism which made her the perfect fucking height for me to kiss: I didn’t have to bend or stoop.

  “You’re so hard,” she murmured as her hands inched up my chest.

  I swallowed a groan. If she only knew how much harder I’d be if I stopped mentally running numbers. “You’re killing me, Kel.”

  The wench flashed me a wicked smile. “Am I?”

  She was all woman basking in her dominion over me. Kel was drunk off her power, and it had me wondering again about her past. She acted like a girl having her first taste of romance. “Yes, and do you know what normally happens to naughty teases?”

  Her eyes went wide and curious. “No, what happens?”

  I dropped my head until my lips almost brushed hers. “They get pinned against the wall and fucked.”

  I swallowed her gasp of surprise as my mouth slammed over hers. This kiss wasn’t gentle. Not with her playing and taunting me by denying my order. I took what I wanted, fitting my lips along hers until she opened for me.

  And then, I claimed her. The kiss had meant to be practice. At least I was telling myself that. But it was far too real. The feel of Kel surged through me, had me fucking giddy as she rubbed her fit figure into my chest. She wasn’t top heavy, instead possessing a nice pair of tits that weren’t too small or too large; a sumptuous handful that I would learn intimately.

  After a minute, we relented. She opened her eyes like she was coming out of an opiate haze, and I did the same. I ran my hands along my shirt, flattening the non-existent wrinkles and trying to return to my business-like demeanor. I reminded myself this was all an act, which was pretty fucking difficult considering the raging hard-on I currently sported. Her normally pale cheeks took on a reddish hue, making me question for a moment if she felt the same electric current running through her that I did.

  “We’re going to make this fake couple stuff look easy,” she quipped, her lower lip quivering.

  “Maybe,” I said, gripping the nape of her neck. “You’ve got to play along, though, at all times. People expect me to be a certain way with women in public. You understand that, right? If we were to hesitate, even for a moment, questions could be raised.”

  I was thoroughly enjoying staring straight into her sea blue eyes. More so, I loved how my hands molded around her waist while she held hers around my neck. Her smile shifted from sweet and innocent to naughty and defiant.

  “What, you don’t trust my acting skills, CEO?”

  I was about to say something snarky when she wrapped her hand around mine and pulled my head just close enough to hers so that I could feel her breath.

  “I consider this role a warm up for when I move to California and become a star,” she breathed. The little vixen was teasing me. Daring me to make a move.

  I slid my hand from her hips down to her pert ass and gave it a squeeze. She moaned. I covered her mouth with mine, and she made some sort of throaty groan. Any thoughts of numbers flew out the window, and my cock thickened into an iron-bar digging into her hip. She quivered when she felt me, and I rocked her against me. Warning her of the results of her taunting.

  In that moment, with Kel making these hot as hell noises as I kissed her senseless, I knew two things: This was feeling all too real—there was exactly nothing fake about how hard my cock was right now. And second, but more importantly, I was going to get Kelly MacNamara in my bed even if she was a forbidden fruit.

  On a Saturday night in late May, the Chicago Jaguars game was the place to be and be seen, if you were into that sort of thing. Maybe it was because I’d grown up as a blue-collar kid until my teenage years when my father got promoted, but I never put too much stock in appearances for appearance sake. With Kelly at my side, though, tonight was a time for making a statement like I’d never done before. A baseball game on the north side was neutral territory for us, so it was the ideal place for our next public appearance.

  In the limo ride to the stadium, I’d briefed Kelly on all the big guns who would be in the suite that she needed to know. Funny thing was, half the people who’d be at the game would be “legitimate” businessmen and women. A good chunk of the people who would be there were even state and local government officials. We’d grease their palms, they’d make sure to look the other way when I smudged the law.

  Now, leaning on my shoulder, she was asking me questions, in turn, she said were important: a newlywed game prep so that neither of us would get stuck if someone popped up with a random question.

  “If you’re in a bad mood, do you prefer to be left alone or have someone to cheer you up?”

  “Left alone.”

  She nodded. “Okay. I’m like that, too. What do you like best about yourself?”

  “I like that I’m here with you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Typical guy non-answer. Tells me nothing. Fine. How’s our sex life? How much do we have?” She lifted both of her brows.

  I was dying of curiosity to know if Kel was a nympho or naïve. “Well, why don’t you tell me how much sex do you usually have with your boyfriends,” I asked casually, trying to play it cool.

  Kelly flushed and looked away, her gaze darting around the luxurious interior, and then back again. Her tone was defensive. “We don’t need to get into my real personal life. I’m being serious, thinking ahead. What if someone asks about our sex life and we’re on totally different pages? That’s embarrassing. And you first.”

  She was fucking adorable when blushing.

  “I’ll tell you, but you first.”

  “Not how this game is played. I made up this game,” she retorted. “So, I make the rules.”

  I cocked my head with a bemused smile. “Fine. We do it twice a day. Minimum. Now you.”

  She let out a breath of surprise. “Twice a day? Doesn’t that tire you out?”

  I let out a chuckle, amused that she was this fired up over my response. “It’s therapeutic, actually. It energizes me. Now you.”

  I hated that I was desperate to hear this answer. I’m not the type of guy who gets overly curious about a girl’s habits, but with Kelly, I needed to know. She seemed to realize this, and took her time, running her finger along my chest until landing it around my shoulder and massaging it. I had a feeling with Kel it was either all the time or never.

  “Twice a day sounds interesting.”

  “Typical girl non-answer,” I shot back. I grabbed a fistful of her auburn hair hanging out of the back of her baseball cap, brought it to my nose, and inhaled. “Keep this up, you might get yourself in trouble.”

  Kel wiggled against me, deliberately rubbing her breasts against my side. “I
would never want to be in trouble with my fake boyfriend. That could be fake bad.”

  I tongued the roof of my mouth. “You are very skilled at acting fake naughty. I can’t even tell if you’re acting or not. I might have to fake punish you.”

  She brought her mouth to my ear and took a nibble. ”You wouldn’t dare.”

  The car pulled to a stop in front of Jaguar stadium. And none too soon, either. If she kept it up, I wouldn’t have been able to get out of the limo without some adjusting. “Time to jump out.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Ladies first.”

  “You just want to watch my ass when I jump out, don’t you?”

  “Yep.” I chuckled a little. Did she think I was ashamed of the fact that I liked staring at her ass? Maybe some guys. Not me, though.

  She rolled her eyes, then took her time getting out of the limo legs first so I’d get the full ass view treatment. When she was all but bent at the pinnacle, I slapped my palm across both cheeks. She squealed as she scurried the rest of the way out. But she didn’t reprimand me.

  Grabbing her hand, we navigated the flow of people before heading toward the private boxes. While we stood in the elevator with Sal heading up the rear, Kel leaned her head on my shoulder. She liked doing it. At least I really thought she did. Fuck, all my expertise with women flew out the window with her. I never knew what the fuck she was thinking. It had barely been twenty-four hours since we’d started.

  “By the way, what did your father say when you told him this afternoon?”

  She pulled away with a guilty glance. “Oh, about that…I meant to tell him but he never came by the bar, so I didn’t get the chance.”

  My heart dropped. “Kel. This was part of the fucking agreement.” My blood boiled.

  “I know,” she said sweetly. “I just didn’t get a chance to tell him yet.”

  This was a little early for me to get enraged about my disobedient, fake girlfriend. But my Italian temper was perched, ready to blow. “You’ve got to tell him. You tell him, he tells his friends, we all call a truce! That’s how this is going to fucking work! Or did I miss something completely? If he finds out you’re dating me through a third-party, he’s going to think you’re trying to hide it. Kel, fuck.” I raked my hand through my hair and started pacing in the elevator.

  “Hey, relax. I just didn’t have the chance to tell him yet. I will the moment I see him tomorrow morning. I promise.” She twisted her hat to the side so she could give me a soft kiss on the cheek, and I was disarmed.

  I took a deep, calming breath, but my fists were clenched.

  The elevator dinged, and we headed out to the VIP section of the game, which was already in the third inning. Star pitcher Jake Napleton was on the mound mowing down the opposition, and it was looking like another likely win for the World Series champions.

  Servers buzzed through the room taking orders for drinks, which were all free since it was all you can eat and drink. I found it ironic that once you were rich, people invited you to events where everything was free.

  I plastered a huge, warm smile on my face as we strode toward a fat man in his forties in a blazer and jeans. “John Drake,” I whispered, giving Kelly a nudge. “The mayor.”

  “I know who the fucking mayor is,” she whispered back without moving her lips.

  He approached us, and I spoke first. “Hey, John! So nice to see you, sir.”

  “Well, now Mr. LaRosa. What a pleasure. I didn’t know you’d be at the game today.”

  “And my girlfriend, Kelly.”

  He stared at us with a note of surprise. “Kelly…”

  “Kelly MacNamara,” she smiled, sticking a hand out. “What a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Mayor. I’ve heard a lot about your policies.”

  Drake’s eyes touched on Kel’s obvious red hair, and then back to me. I gave a subtle nod of my head. Yes, there was an Irish and an Italian together without blood being spilled.

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “I just want to do what’s possible to combat the crime in Chicago. Keep everyone united.”

  The emphasis he put on the last word of his sentence was obvious. Drake was no idiot, and he knew as well as anyone that the Irish and the Italians were feuding this year like it was the 1920s all over again. He was a mutt himself, so he took no side.

  “And I do what I can to help,” I said, sliding my hand into Kel’s back pocket. I gave her ass a nice squeeze. She let out a breath and shot me a dirty look.

  “So how long have you been dating, if you don’t mind me asking?” he asked.

  I hesitated for a split second, but Kelly was all over it. “A couple of weeks. We were old high school friends, but we’ve been talking and we decided to rekindle things this summer. We’re very excited.”

  “Where is your wife, by the way, John?” I interjected.

  His face turned red, probably because he knew I knew the dirt about him that not even the tabloids knew: he’d been sexting with some community college students and exchanging pictures.

  It was always good to keep your enemies close.

  “We’re going through a rough patch,” he said. “But I’m sure we’ll get through it.”

  I smiled and he gave me a firm slap on the back. “That’s the spirit. Now if you’ll excuse us, there is a delicious spread of salad, prime beef, and mashed potatoes calling our names over there. Shall we?” I cocked my head down to Kelly.

  “Let’s.”

  “After you, please.” I winked at old Drake and we both watched Kelly’s ass in her short shorts as she walked delicately, sexily, toward the buffet.

  “What on Earth are you trying to start?” Drake asked me, his eyes fearful. “All-out war?”

  “Just the opposite, my friend. I want to put an end to it.”

  “Taking the most attractive Irish girl in Chicago away from them isn’t exactly a peace offering now, is it?”

  He downed the remainder of his scotch, turned, and walked away. The guy had no idea what he was talking about, I was sure of it. Our plan was golden.

  Naoi

  The night was fun, yet stressful. I hadn’t told my father yet about our whole romance. Vince was right. I needed to tell my friends and family so I could control the story about how we ended up together. I didn’t want my side thinking I had somehow been manipulated into this relationship.

  Even though that was technically exactly what had happened.

  The VIP lounge had been more exhausting than I’d anticipated. Coming up with answers to the plethora of questions that people had for us had been taxing. It also showed each of us that we shared quite a hive mind. After his first hesitation at one of the mayor’s inquiries, we answered questions like we had been dating for years. And the Jaguars won, which was nice. Not that I was watching the game. It was a shame, too. I had an amazing view over home plate, and couldn’t enjoy the experience. My fake boyfriend was popular, and everyone was curious to know who his date was that he’d brought tonight.

  “Goddamn, that was tiring,” Vince said, flopping against the couch in the limo. “I need to take a load off after that shit.”

  I slid a little closer to him so that our legs were touching, and massaged his hair. “Agreed. Maybe we should take a load off.”

  Vince squinted and spoke with a gravelly growl. “You can’t possibly be thinking about the same load I am thinking about taking off.”

  I sighed. “Do you ever stop thinking with your sausage?”

  He cracked an eye, pinning me with his Guinness-brown stare. “It’s hard when you’ve got your hand an inch from touching it.”

  I looked down and realized I’d accidentally placed a hand on his leg, unconsciously. My fingertips brushed the crease of where his jeans folded at the top of his thigh. Holy hell, was he that big that it stretched that far? “Oh, sorry.” I pulled the hand away.

  Vince didn’t let me get too far. He wound his fingers through mine. “I agree, though. I’d had a different plan for the evening, but you are far too fucking hot in those tiny sh
orts. It should be illegal. A load needs to be taken off. And I know just the place.”

  He rolled down the divider. “Sal, let’s head to the Drop. My girlfriend and I need to blow off some steam.”

  Did he just call me hot? A blush simmered in my cheeks, and I looked away before he noticed it. “What’s the Drop?”

  “You’ll see,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around me.

  After Sal let us out at the curb, we flashed our IDs to a bouncer who waved us down the stairs into a speakeasy type bar in a basement. The ceilings were low and plastered. Not that it mattered much, because the place was so dark, I couldn’t even make out the color of the walls. The bass beat of the music thumped strongly in my chest, making my body want to move along with the tone.

  “What are you drinking?” Vince murmured into my ear. It was the only way I could hear him, but goosebumps still fogged my skin at the intimate whisper.

  “Gin and tonic.”

  “One gin and tonic, one whiskey neat.”

  “Do people know you here, too?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Honestly, though, it’s so dark in here, and it’s mostly a bunch of college kids. This place is random, off the radar. We’re on the north side here, so it’s not a big deal. Why? You wondering how much of the act we need to keep up?”

  “Shhh,” I whispered with a smile. “These walls might have ears.”

  Our drinks sat on the bar and the bartender took Vince’s money. He waved away the change.

  “Cheers,” I said. We clinked glasses and sipped our drinks, staring each other down.

  Vince devoured me with a heavy-lidded look. “You really are fucking hot. You know that, though, I’m sure.”

  Throughout my college days, I’d been called a lot of things. Pretty. Cute. Nice. Fucking hot wasn’t actually one of the phrases I’d heard used. And I had to admit I liked it.

  I licked a drop of liquor off my bottom lip. Maybe it was the liquid courage, but I said something that had been on my mind all night. “And you are fucking handsome.”

 

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