So Screwed

by Melissa Marino

  I ran to the back to grab a few bites of a sandwich, and when I came back out, I saw what I wanted. Evelyn was leaning up against the end of the service bar, smiling and talking with Marshall without noticing I was coming up next to her.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” I said, placing my hand on her back and kissing the side of her neck.

  She leaned into me, her perfume giving me the perfect reminder of what I was missing. My hand moved down from her back to her ass where I copped a feel of my girlfriend like the horndog fuck I was.

  Girlfriend.

  “Watch it,” she said, playfully slapping my arm. “I was over at the Drake, and I wanted to tell you something real quick.”

  Marshall gave a nod and stepped over to the cocktail server who was waiting for him to help her. “See ya later, Evelyn.”

  “What do you have to tell me?” I asked while giving her the once-over. A black pleated skirt with a lacy red top that covered just enough to be modest, but left glimpses of skin.

  “I felt bad for leaving you in such a dire condition.”

  I bit down on my lower lip when I noticed her heels. Black patent leather heels with a strap around the ankle. Patent fucking leather. It was my Kryptonite, a direct line from eyes to my dick.

  I bent down, nuzzling against her ear. “My condition is even more dire now that I see how hot you look tonight.”

  “The right thing to do is make it up to you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Come back in a couple hours?”

  She looked tired, dark circles under her blue eyes that were laced red. I didn’t want her waiting around for me while I finished up.

  “I have a better idea,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Marshall. I need a break. Give me fifteen.”

  “The fuck? We’re getting slammed here.”

  “And it’s against the law to not allow me to take a break.”

  He flipped me off, but gave me a knowing smirk.

  I took her by the hand down the back hall and past the kitchen to the employee bathroom. I pulled her inside, slammed the door behind us, and locked it.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  I pushed her up against the door before my hands reached up and gripped her face firmly. “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”

  I turned her head and my tongue reached out to taste her skin. She moaned softly, as her body started to melt into mine.

  “I love it when you talk Harry Potter to me,” she said. “But we shouldn’t do this in here.”

  “I work here. I can do whatever I want, beautiful. Plus, if I don’t get inside you immediately, I’m going to go out there and quit so I can fuck you someplace else.”

  Before I could move further, I realized we weren’t going to get anywhere. “Shit. Can you hang on a minute?”

  Her body stilled as she gave me a strong glare. “No.”

  “I need to go get a condom. I’m sure someone or somewhere—”

  She let out a sigh. “Were you serious this morning about this being just you and me?”

  “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

  She reached up and kissed my bottom lip before biting down gently. “I’m on the pill, so I’m good to go,” she said, kissing me again. “If you are.”

  I was so hoping we’d be able to work something out on the protection but not condom front. My girl was prepared, and it made me more than good to go.

  My hand slid down her skirt until I reached the hem, curling my fingers underneath it. As I lifted it, her head leaned against my chest, the warmth of her ragged breath heating me more.

  “Do you want to know why we call this place WET?” I said, reaching between her legs.

  “Mmm,” she moaned. “Mm-hmm.”

  “I’m not sure that’s an answer. But I love the response nonetheless.”

  My hands dipped down farther, my palm running over the front of her lace panties. “You see,” I said, increasing my pressure. “In days of Prohibition, places were dry, with no booze. But then some speakeasies started popping up, and they weren’t dry. They were wet.”

  Her hips rocked into me, finding a rhythm in perfect tune with my touch. “I…see,” she said, breathless. Her head lifted from my chest, and she was all eyes on me.

  “Those eyes are locked in pretty hard there,” I said. “And it’s making me so fucking hard.”

  She bit down on her lower lip as her chest heaved from anticipation. It made my cock throb with excitement, and my breathing began to match with hers. Sensing this, she dragged her hand down the front of my shirt and along the seam of my pants, stopping to feel the hardness.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking down at where she gripped me. “For that development.”

  I still couldn’t believe how fucking sexy this girl was. Everything about her turned me on, and so much stronger than I’d ever known. Her scent, her skin, her touch…it all drove me to the point of almost insanity. It was why I barely thought about it before I lifted her up against the door and started kissing her madly. Matching our want, with tongue and playful bites, I knew I needed her, wanted her, had to have her.

  I spun her around while in my arms and placed her back down facing the mirrors lying above the long counter and sinks.

  “You hold on to that, beautiful. Stay exactly like that.”

  She turned her head to look at me, but I firmly pushed her head back to look toward the mirror. “The mirror. You look right there. I want you to see how sexy you look when I fuck you.”

  I was able to watch her smile in the mirror as I hiked her skirt up over hips and yanked her underwear down. My hand brushed against her smooth, bare ass, so perfectly round that I had to hold myself back from biting it. Instead, I gave her a playful slap and watched her gasp while I hurried to undo my belt and pants.

  “Right ahead in that mirror,” I whispered into her ear as I pulled my dick from my boxers. “And open your legs.”

  She obeyed, giving herself over to me. I wanted to push into her slow, feel the warmth and wetness of her surround me, but a noise outside the door, followed by a knock, reminded me of where we were.

  Slow and leisurely would have to wait. It was all about hard and fast at that moment. I slid myself into her, bringing myself as deep as I could before pulling back and repeating. She met my immediate rhythm as she obeyed what I told her. Even though I’d had her this way the night before, being able to watch her reflection in the mirror and to see her face was fascinating. I leaned into her farther, wanting to get deeper and deeper, which was so much more intense sans condom. It had been a long time since I had a woman this way, skin on skin, no barriers. This woman was the one I’d been waiting for.

  Her fingers gripped at the top of the counter, wanting to hold on to something.

  I wanted something to hold on to, too.

  I gripped the back of her hair and yanked it toward me. Bringing my mouth to her neck, I sucked the skin beneath her ear, grazing my teeth over the tender flesh. “You still looking?” I asked in a hushed tone. “Watching what I’m doing to you?”

  She panted and pushed herself into me at a matching tempo. “Yes.”

  The knocking continued louder and louder as I fucked her harder and harder. The mix of timing and her hot-as-fuck moans was enough to drive me over the edge.

  “You there, beautiful?”

  The words weren’t even gone from mouth before she came, tightening and pulling me to do the same. My head buried in the crook of her neck, and I instinctually bit down, wanting to taste her. It was all animal on my part. Uncontrollable.

  Her hand reached around and palmed the side of my face as we both fought to catch our breath. After a moment of us silent, and a few expletives shouted from the other side of the door, we pulled away from each other.

  “That better not leave a mark, you asshole,” she said, touching over the area where I bit her.

  She gave me a hard glare as she walked into one of the st
alls, but there was enough of a hint of a grin to let me know she wasn’t truly mad. It was a kind of dickhead thing to do. We weren’t in high school where you’d leave a hickey to prove you were the shit. It wasn’t even about marking my territory, either. It was all about wanting her. Getting her. All at once.

  “By the way,” she said, exiting the stall, pulling her skirt down over her panties. “I like you like that.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Bossy.”

  I zipped my pants as I took a quiet look in the mirror. Yeah. We both looked like we’d just had a quickie in the bathroom. “You ready?”

  “Yup,” she said, turning toward the mirror.

  I finished tucking my shirt in as I unlocked the door. A quick button of my pants was happening as the door flew open.

  “About time,” the gin-drinking customer who’d been sitting at the bar said. He pushed past me before stopping his steps and words. “I almost—”

  I turned, and there was Evelyn, applying lipstick in the mirror. She snapped the top back on and smoothed her lips together, slipping the lipstick back into the pocket of her skirt. After she ran her hands down the front of her shirt, she headed toward the door, stopping to giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Perfect, handsome,” she said, exiting the bathroom. “But next time, I’m the boss.”

  Both of us watched her leave as our jaws slackened.

  “Jesus,” I said, running my hand through my hair.

  * * *

  It never let up for the rest of the night. It was a relief because it was going to end up being a killer money night for me, which would help me out. Evelyn didn’t stay after we left our bathroom love hut, but she continued to linger all over me. My shirt smelled of her perfume, and the images of her watching her reflection in the mirror as I fucked her from behind was at the forefront of my mind.

  Marshall rushed past me, bumping my shoulder as he did, causing me to spill from the bottle of Malbec I was pouring. “Dude,” I shouted.

  “That’s for the shit-eating grin you’ve been sporting all night since Evelyn left,” he said, pounding his index finger into the screen at the register.

  “Jealous?”

  He cackled, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. I don’t get jealous of something I can have anytime I want.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I put the cork back on the bottle and returned it to its proper place before handing the wineglass off to one of the servers.

  “I can,” Marshall said, rearranging the fruit from which we made fresh garnishes. His blond hair was never out of place. He’d be out all night, drinking, partying, whatever, and the guy never had a hair out of place. His tattoo-covered arms were covered up at WET, but outside of it? It was out for the world to see, and the chicks dug them. They dug him a lot.

  “Uh-huh,” I repeated.

  “Don’t make it a regular occurrence,” he said. “I’m not running a brothel.”

  “Jesus. You’re testy tonight. No, it won’t be a regular thing, but she will be, so please don’t refer to my girl as a slut ever again or I’ll go from friend to murderer in two seconds.”

  There it was again. The animal. The protective aggressiveness I was getting over her. Marshall and I always joked about our conquests, but Evelyn was different.

  He laughed again while shaking his head at me. “Now who’s testy? Isn’t it a little soon to be so whipped?”

  “It’s not whipped if I’m enjoying it.”

  “And I didn’t call her a slut and I never would. No lady deserves that. I’d probably have a few choice words about her if she ever cheated or fucked around on you, but she seems almost as into you as you are to her. Plus, she dresses classy as hell. Those shoes, man,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Don’t talk about her shoes,” I warned. “And I know. She’s…something else.”

  “By the way,” he said, pushing away from the bar. “There’s a girl over on the far back sofa that said she wanted to say hello to you. I was going to tell her you might be occupied in the bathroom, but figured less was more, right?”

  “Dick,” I whispered under my breath as I emerged from the bar to see who he was talking about.

  “I heard that! And same back at you,” Marshall shouted.

  I weaved my way through the tables and conservations, noticing the familiar scene at two a.m. Boozy expressions and close bodies were the norm, but there were always the sad ones. The investment banker drowning his divorce woes in glass after glass of expensive brandy with a buddy. Or the local weather girl who was in at least twice a week and sat alone reading until she was too drunk to see the words anymore. That was what people liked about this place. They could be themselves, and there was no judgment. Aaron’s life was a lot like that. First when he went through his divorce, and then when he started seeing Callie, the nanny, it was all over the city papers. It was why I liked working here for the time being. Outside I had to prove myself as Aaron’s little brother, and I didn’t think I could ever measure up to him. Here? I was just a bartender.

  The room grew darker the farther back I went, but the candles on the table lit her face enough for me to recognize her immediately. It hadn’t been that long since our night together, and I hadn’t recalled telling her where I worked. We were both so drunk before we stumbled onto my couch, and at that time I could’ve told her anything.

  Shit. What was her name? And how the hell did she get in here?

  “Abel,” she said, uncrossing her long legs and standing. And her legs were all I saw with her skirt so short, covering only the holy areas of her body.

  She pressed her hand to my chest before giving me a kiss on the cheek, lingering a little too long for my comfort.

  “How have you been…?” I said, trailing off while still trying to remember her name.

  Her eyebrows raised knowingly. “Do you remember me?” she asked.

  “Of course. Yes.”

  “My name?” she questioned.

  The accent should’ve helped me, but it didn’t. Where was she from again? Greece? No. That wasn’t it.

  “Huh?” I said, leaning into her and cupping my hand over my ear to pretend like I didn’t hear her.

  Her hand on my chest ran down my shirt, her fingertips gliding over each covered button. I backed away while taking her roaming hand in mine.

  “Italy!” I blurted out. She was definitely from Italy, but it was not her name.

  She winked. “I’ll let it slide even though it breaks my heart to think I’m forgettable.”

  “No. It’s been a long night working and—”

  “Dafne. And no trouble,” she said, her accent wrapping around each word, each syllable like honey. It was stunning, as was she, but it wasn’t where I wanted to go anymore.

  This was always so awkward. One-night stands were supposed to stick to the one-night rule. Whenever someone didn’t abide by that, I was left standing in front of the “standee” trying to figure out how to make a getaway.

  “I wish I could stay and talk, but I have to get back to work. I’ll send over another cocktail on me. What are you having?” I said.

  She sat down, backing herself into the plush cabernet-colored sofa. With an exaggerated lift of her leg, she crossed it over the other, hoping to give me a glimpse of what was or wasn’t under that skirt.

  “Hai preso il mio fiato, Abel,” she purred.

  I shook my head. “I…don’t know what that means.”

  “You pretended you knew when I whispered it in your ear.”

  “I really do have to get back. It was—”

  “You took my breath away,” she said. She looked around the room, tables slowly beginning to empty. “Almost done?”

  Shit. I didn’t want to have to use my number two excuse, but she left me no choice.

  “You’re very beautiful, Dafne. Oh! Now I remember. Dafne with an f, not a ph. Anyway, I had fun, but I’m seeing someone now. I can’t,” I said. “Now how about that drink?”
/>   She tapped her long fingernail on the rim of her wineglass. “Merlot,” she said. “And you flatter yourself.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes, you do. I’m not here only for you. I was going to meet Benji here, but he had to cancel.”

  “Benji Wright?” I asked.

  She nodded, her eyebrows lifted in question. “That’s right. I’m sure you know him as well.”

  A chill ran through my body at the sound of his name. My debt was increasing and I was grateful he was giving me the time I needed, but even I knew he’d have his limit. My anxiety eased when I reminded myself she’d said he wouldn’t be coming, which led me to my next question.

  “Why would you be meeting him here?”

  She shrugged her shoulders as she lifted her palms up, being coy about answering my question.

  I didn’t give a shit that Dafne was cozying up to someone new. It was the fact that it wasn’t wise with Benji. He was dangerous, and everyone knew it. You had to know that if you were going to be part of anything he was running. Of course, there were some women at games, but it was like Fight Club. You didn’t talk about it.

  “You’re…friends with him?” I asked.

  She raised her eyebrows as a devilish grin emerged. “You’re jealous.”

  “I’m really not. Like I said, I’m seeing someone now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned.”

  “No concern, Abel. Benji has something I want, and I was here to try and persuade him.”

  “Look, Dafne, you shouldn’t get into anything with him. He—”

  “I better say no to another drink,” she said, interrupting me. “Even though you’re nice to ask.”

  She gathered her things and stood to leave, only to stop to kiss me, a little too long, on the cheek.

  “Addio, bello,” she whispered in my ear.

  Chapter Thirteen

  EVELYN—

  Sex in a bar bathroom?” Callie said.

  I was sitting next to her in my bed, nibbling on pastries from Floriole Bakery and sipping coffee. With both of our crazy schedules—she’s a teacher—our Sunday morning tradition of pain au chocolat, fruit scones, and coffee was one of my favorite moments of the week. It was also good to get a reading on her after finding out about Abel and me.