Bartender with Benefits

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Bartender with Benefits Page 30

by Mickey Miller


  What poor schmucks has she been dating that they’d never went down on her? “You’ve never had a guy make you come from oral sex so hard that you forget what planet you’re on?”

  She laughed, breaking the tension, and hesitated. “Yeah.”

  I flashed her a hooded look. “Are you worried?”

  “No.”

  “Kel,” I said in between kissing patches of her leg. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. God, you’re pretty. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll wait if you’re not ready. Are you ready?” I kissed her inner thigh, inching closer to my target.

  “God, I’m so ready,” she whispered.

  “And so wet,” I added, pressing a finger into her panties. I peeled them off, and my jaw dropped at what I exposed.

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “What?” she asked, worry in her voice.

  “Kelly fucking MacNamara has a tattoo.”

  On her left hip was a tiny bunny holding a four-leaf clover.

  “Oh, that.” She giggled. “So, I have secrets. You’re telling me I know everything about you?”

  In that moment, a flash hit me of all the awful shit I’d been through over the past few years. The evil I’d seen. In the weirdest fucking connection my mind had ever made, in this moment I knew that if someone as beautiful and as real as Kelly existed, there was hope for me. Black as my soul was, she was a light in my dark tunnel.

  I kissed her tattoo. “You’re a sexy little bunny. I think I’m going to make you my good luck charm.”

  That wasn’t the only surprise Kel had for me. Most girls tended to go bare, but there was a fine little tuft of red hair right above her lips. A fucking landing strip just begging my tongue to launch her to the moon. I didn’t even bother pulling her panties the rest of the way. I ripped those fuckers off.

  They broke easily, and I dove between her legs. She shuddered beneath me as I spread her open for me, getting my tongue right between her puffy lips and drinking all that sweetness down. I tongued her slickness greedily, lapping her up like her honey might make me a whole man again. Her breath came in short bursts and her moans were soft. Every purr of hers threw another log on the fire of my need to lick every inch of her. I wrapped my arms around her ass and pulled her closer.

  Her cries grew louder. I flicked her clit with my tongue, tracing the engorged outline before swiping across the center. She squeaked when I did that, and I repeated the motion. Finding a rhythm with her that had her alternating between bucking against my face, and writhing beneath my lips. Her hand was in my mop of hair, tugging on the strands, spurring me on. She was already unraveling and I wasn’t even done with her. I slipped my finger through that wet pink V and dipped a finger inside. She ground her hips into me, her inner muscles latching onto my finger, and pulling it deeper as her volume steadily rose.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God, Vince.”

  I led Kelly there and she followed me. I ate her, starved for the creaminess dripping down my chin. Occasionally I rubbed my scruff along her inner thighs, then raked it over her pussy. By the way her hips thrust into my face, she loved it. I didn’t stop licking her and fingered her all at once, then reached a hand up and grabbed her breast. She bucked off the seat.

  She was so close. I could tell. But it was as if she was resisting for some reason. I lifted my head out from between her legs to whisper.

  “Kelly, my beautiful bunny, I want you to come for me.”

  Grabbing her thigh, I yanked her down the bench until her ass was suspended from it. I had perfect access now and relaunched my assault with a flutter of my tongue driving into her core. Her inner muscles trembled as I curled my tongue upward. Searching.

  She cried out when I found my target.

  “Mmm,” I growled into her pussy. Shit, it almost sounded like a purr. “Come hard, Bunny.”

  Kelly yelled so loud, if the divider wasn’t soundproof, Sal might be worried there was a fucking murder going down back here. I feasted on her through her orgasm, lightening my touches until stopping.

  Finally, her wild undulations calmed and her breath slowed.

  “You okay?” I couldn’t help the smug tone in my voice.

  With her eyes shut, she quirked her lips in a wide and contagious smile. A ruddy red hue colored her cheeks.

  “That was my first orgasm,” she breathed.

  I furrowed my brow. “Your what?”

  “First orgasm. Ever. That’s never happened to me before.”

  My eyes widened. “Is that what you were trying to tell me before?”

  “Yes,” she croaked. “But I didn’t want to jinx anything.”

  “Holy fuck, Kelly. So that’s what you mean by first time.” I moved my face closer to hers, inhaling the scent of sweat and perfume. “How dare you lie to me.”

  “I…didn’t lie. This was also my first time in a limo…” She blushed all over again. The color highlighted the rise and fall of her breasts spilling out of her bra.

  “Holding a secret like that back is withholding the truth,” I snapped back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle. It’s just, damn, Kel. You do things to me.”

  Kel glanced between my legs at the massive erection trying to poke its way out of my pants. I thought I had blue balls before. Now? Shit, they were probably purple.

  Just then, Sal came over the loud speaker. “Boss, we’re at Kelly’s place.”

  Fuck, I should have told him to drive around the block a few times.

  “Holy shit!” she exclaimed. “It’s so dark with these tinted windows I can barely tell where we are.” She looked around for her clothes. We’d whipped them off in a frenzy. I helped her find them, and admiring the way she squeezed back into her shorts. That shimmy caused my dick to twitch against my fly.

  “I don’t know how you fit into those tight things.”

  “Anything for my boyfriend,” she smiled as she strapped her bra on. “He’s kind of a big deal.”

  I picked up her ripped green panties. The faint scent of her arousal clung to the cotton. “I’m going to hang onto these as a souvenir.”

  “Put them in a museum or something. ‘Kelly’s first orgasm.’ It’ll be worth something when I’m a famous actress. Fuck,” she muttered, looking at her reflection. “I have sex hair. Well, make out hair. Sorry about the blue balls, by the way.” She glanced down at my cock again, something she was really making a habit of doing. My erection jerked again, and I had to flatten my hand against my crotch just to ease the pain.

  “See you soon.” I grabbed her and planted one last kiss on her lips, sharing the lingering flavor of her pussy with her.

  She bit her bottom lip. “Fuck, you make it hard to leave, Vince.”

  “I know. You should go, though, for now. Let me know what your dad says.”

  She swallowed and shut her eyes. Sal popped open the limo door so she could hop out. He gave me a look over her head and a subtle shake of his head. The sex scent we’d been marinating in evaporated with the fresh night air.

  She offered me a mournful look. “Not a conversation I’m looking forward to. Goodnight.”

  Aon Deug

  Yes, that happened.

  Those were the words I repeated over and over in my thoughts the next morning as I snuggled in bed. I was taking my time under the covers since getting out from under them meant telling Pops what I’d been up to last night. It was decadent. The past few weeks since I’d returned from college had been a frenzy of activity. I was enjoying being slothful this morning, remembering my time with the man of my dreams.

  And quite frankly, I was having a hard time believing what had happened.

  Being treated to a night at the VIP section of the Jaguars game? Sure.

  Meeting the mayor? I guess.

  Grinding against Vince LaRosa’s perfect body like a certified stripper? Didn’t see that one coming.

  Coming so hard for the first time ever that I finally understood why people loved sex so much? Never in a million years had I p
ictured that outcome going into last night.

  And damn, did the man have a penchant for knowing exactly where to put his tongue in me. He played me like a damn flute. I reached between my legs and stroked my lips, which were so swollen.

  I am still wet.

  I was sort of fine with the fact that we’d only gotten as far as Vince pleasuring me. For our first time, I didn’t want to go any farther than that. In the same way, I didn’t feel like I owed him anything, though, or that he expected me now to reciprocate tit for tat. My college boyfriend, who’d never made me orgasm, always expected that for every time he fingered me, he’d have at least one blowjob coming. Christ almighty, after last night I finally realized what a total waste of time that boy had been.

  Yes, boy was a good term to describe my ex. Vince, now, he was not a boy in any way, shape, or form. He was clearly a man. A very powerful one.

  I stared up at my ceiling. Was he really as evil as Pops and my brothers made him out to be? He’d inherited the kingdom, he hadn’t built it. And what he was doing with me was trying to bring peace to the feud, right?

  Still, I’d heard stories about him in the bar. The one thing drunk people liked to do was talk, and with Pops’s gossip, I’d heard things I probably shouldn’t have. Many stories about him back in the day. I knew he’d been an enforcer at one time, busting kneecaps with baseball bats, and he was not a guy our men liked to cross. Though I knew Vince hadn’t been into the wet work, those men killed almost indiscriminately at the order of the Outfit’s boss. I couldn’t picture him as a murderer.

  Was I being delusional?

  I slipped my hand between my legs and stroked between my lips, finding my slit. Was I really this wet just thinking about Vince? Biting my bottom lip, I tried to remember what all Vince had done to get me off. There had been a lot of licking, and smacking wet noises.

  I groaned and rolled my finger in a light circle. Exploring my pussy, but not really revving my engine. My breath grew shallow. I imagined running my hand over Vince’s abs like I did last night. He was so big. My pussy clenched. And what would his very large package feel like if he ever entered me? When he entered me. Because after last night, that was definitely happening.

  The thought of him spreading my lips, stretching my pussy, coursed waves of pleasure through me. What the hell had he done with his tongue last night? I tried curling my finger like he had. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t the pure bliss I experienced in the limo last night.

  Was it possible that he knew my body better than I did?

  I rocked my hips a little bit and sank my finger into my slit. Now that I’d had one orgasm, would the next one be easier?

  I stifled a giggle. Well, there was only one way to find out, now wasn’t there.

  Peeling my panties off, I wiggled beneath the covers and thought back to the amazing night with Vince. His thick hair. His smoldering brown eyes. And damn, that body. Lean and chiseled, and just begging for me to touch him.

  My finger sank in, teasing the sensitive opening of my core. I was so hot, and growing hotter still. My temperature spiked as my thoughts of Vince grew feverish.

  I’d felt how thick and hard he was. I’d been somewhat impressed with my ex’s package. But Vince was in a whole other league. When we’d been kids, I’d thought he was untouchable, only able to admire from afar. Not only because of the familial issue but due to how smoking hot he was. Then things had begun changing, only to be interrupted by life. We were getting a second chance, and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that. Could we make this work for truth?

  Now, I’d touched and been touched. And oh, how I wanted more.

  I slipped my finger deep, gasping at the tight fit. Vince only thought that’d been my first orgasm, but there were a few more firsts left. I hadn’t had my V-card punched yet. If I couldn’t trust my college boyfriend to get me off with his mouth, and even those experiences had been lukewarm, I didn’t really feel he was worthy of going all the way with me.

  But Vince most certainly was. My cunt contracted, sending a fresh wave of wetness to coat my fingers. Carrying that wetness up, I circled my clit. It was so swollen, throbbing beneath my touch. I flicked it lightly, remembering the way Vince’s tongue had swirled around it.

  Oh God, that was good. I turned my head and muffled my increasing moans into my pillow. Easing my finger in deeply, I pumped once, twice, and curled the tip of my finger just like Vince had the night before. Mmph, there it was. A spasm of pleasure rippled through me as I found the spot, that magic spot that Vince had manipulated with his tongue and his rough, calloused fingers.

  My breath grew ragged as I played with myself, alternating between working my finger in as deeply as I dared, and massaging my clit. I needed both. One or the other just didn’t work, but doing them together?

  It was magic.

  Pleasure pooled in my belly as I worked myself to that edge. Helped along by my mental worship of Vince. The feeling of his hard body against mine. The way his mouth melted over my lips. Oh, and that dominant streak he had. Tangling his fingers in my hair. Cupping my neck and nape. And the steely pressure of his cock. I hadn’t seen the full enchilada, but feeling it? Oh, hell, yes. I wanted to feel it and more. I wanted to kneel before him and watch his eyes grow delirious with lust as I took him deep into my throat. I would choke. I knew that. But it would be worth it just to hear him groan. Then, he would flip me over by the hips, pull me back, and…

  I cried out as my orgasm burst through me, tearing apart my fantasy in a flash of bright lights against my closed lids. My first solo climax wasn’t nearly as good as the one Vince licked from me. But I’d done it.

  Pulling my fingers free, I dropped my head back with a content sigh and left my wet fingers to linger on my hip. The one with the tattoo. I’d gotten it in college because I’d wanted it; a soft and fuzzy cute thing with a four-leaf clover. An obvious nod to my heritage, and a private memento that I was more than what I seemed.

  He’d called me his bunny last night. His good luck charm. My toes curled in delight.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think my fake boyfriend and I were getting serious.

  “Kelly Bree MacNamara, where the HELL are you.” Pops’s voice boomed through the house, jerking me awake.

  I blinked groggily at the ceiling. I must have fallen back asleep after my solo encore. I flushed, thinking how good it felt.

  I would have to tease Vince with the play-by-play later.

  Pops’s footsteps hobbled up the stairs, reminding me of what had shaken me from sleep. Yawning, I scooted up into bed and darted a glance to the clock. It was well before noon. A late, lazy weekend morning for me, but nothing that would get him so riled up.

  He banged on the door twice.

  “I’m awake, come in,” I called. I’d had to train him once I came back from college that he had to knock before entering. It was the only bit of privacy I got in the house.

  The door slammed open, banging a hole into the wall.

  Shit, he was pissed. Pops had a Popeye thing going—eyes squinting with fury, his round face florid with color.

  I didn’t need a crystal ball to tell me that he’d likely just found out about my fake boyfriend.

  Oh, fuck.

  I jerked my covers up as if the thin blanket would hide me from his ire.

  Pops hands clenched at his side. If he were prone to giving into his temper, I’m sure he was thinking of throttling me.

  Vince had warned me I needed to tell him. And I hadn’t heeded his advice.

  I bit my lip and waited for Pops to blow my house of cards down. He was really pissed. A vein bulged in his forehead. His barrel chest, still rather fit with age, heaved.

  Finally, he could speak through his rage. “Do you know who just called me, Kelly?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t. There were a ton of people who saw Vince and me yesterday. That was the point. Get our relationship out there. Make a public statement that the fighting was over.

&n
bsp; “Sean fucking Kennedy,” he shouted.

  I flinched. Well, I knew who had let the cat out of the bag now. Sean Kennedy worked as an aide for Mayor Drake. The good Mayor must have filled his ear about me and Vince after the Jaguars game.

  What a fucking weasel.

  I tried playing it cool. Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, I sat upright in bed. I felt vulnerable. This wasn’t how I wanted to have this conversation. Dressed in my pajamas, half awake, and basically flat on my ass.

  I had no one to blame but myself.

  “What did he have to say?” I wouldn’t lie to Pops, not outright. I may have skirted the truth by not coming clean when I should have, but deliberate lying was forbidden.

  “He said…” Pops choked on the words. His fingers clenched again. Maybe I shouldn’t be worrying about him killing me, but having a stroke before he crucified me.

  “He said you and Vince motherfucking LaRosa are dating. Now, I know he must be wrong. Because I know my daughter, my ONLY daughter, wouldn’t be dating that violent thug.” Pops’s faded blue eyes nailed me to the bed.

  I wanted to scold him. Shake my damn head in his direction. What a bunch of hypocrisy. Kyle died right in front of me because of the violent thuggish behavior Tommy and the other goons showed. Two wrongs didn’t make a right, but only pushed us closer toward war.

  I didn’t want to attend any more funerals. My youth had been peppered with them. Back then I’d barely known those who had died. Estranged cousins, uncles, friends of the family.

  But now, the trend of early death continued. Now, this was my generation and with people I grew up with. I feared Kyle would only be the first. Tears burned my throat, and I blinked my eyes rapidly so they wouldn’t fall. I couldn’t think of Kyle. I hadn’t dealt with his death yet.

  All that blood. We’d had to get rid of the table from the Tavern and rearrange the others, just so I wouldn’t keep seeing his lifeless body each time I went to work.

  My heart seized in my chest. Thinking of Kyle and why I was doing this gave me strength. “He’s not wrong,” I whispered.

 

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