by Alexa J. Day
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
EBook Offer
Passing Through
Hero to Obey
Alexa Day
Blushing Books
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Alexa Day
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing Books®,
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The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Alexa Day
Passing Through
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-339-6
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Contents
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Look Inside
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Alexa Day
EBook Offer
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Look Inside
Before long, she bent to whisper in his ear. "Tonight, you don't come until I tell you. Understand?"
He nodded and shifted his body beneath her, making himself ready for her.
"Good. Keep your eyes closed and your hands right where they are." She teased the corner of his mouth with the tip of her tongue and moved on to his sculpted biceps, his shoulders. She took in the salty taste of him, the scent of sweat that clung to his skin. With her lips and tongue, she surveyed him and watched his responses as well as she could. He twisted beneath her when she scraped his nipple with her nails. His stomach fluttered when she traced his abs with her tongue. She glanced up to find him biting his lip.
Ticklish. She smiled against his skin. She’d almost forgotten. She should have told him not to laugh. Instead, she teased the dusting of hair on his chest, stirring it with her breath until he writhed beneath her. The sound of his hands tightening on her headboard stirred her in turn, and she skimmed his sides with her nails and fingertips. He squeezed his eyes shut, the exertion reddening his skin.
She ran her hands up the length of him, from his narrow waist to the hollow of his collarbone, as if he were a fine instrument beneath a skilled musician’s fingertips. He gasped at the unexpected contact, and he alternated between the instinct to twist away from her and the desire to please her by staying still. Her fingers fluttering just over the surface of his skin, she tormented him until sweat stood out on his forehead.
He’d let her go on like that forever. He’d bite his lip until it bled, hold his breath for an eternity, crush that metal bar in his clenched fists. She sat squarely on top of him again, watching him catch his breath as she stroked and flicked his sensitive skin again. She shook her head in amazement at the depths of his self-control and then kissed his parted lips, pulling away from him just as he started to respond.
That was enough. For now.
Chapter 1
Summertime… and the parking lot's crowded.
As she drove by Inn Too Deep, Gigi Dean sang along with Janis Joplin and looked out her car window at its main parking lot. The sight of cars and trucks jammed shoulder to shoulder in the gravel space made her grin. Months of so-so spring business had blossomed into a bustling summer at the beachfront bar she owned, and with the Sunset Sounds concert series starting tonight, happy hour would be very happy indeed. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel in time with her radio.
She turned left from Low Tide Drive onto Liberty Lane, and then into the back parking lot her bar shared with the beauty salon behind it. Still more cars packed the smaller lot, crammed haphazardly into whatever vacancies their drivers had found. She took note of three motorcycles tucked into the hollow between the kitchen door and the Dumpster. Gigi squeezed her sensible sedan into her usual spot in the opposite corner of the lot. A pink "Management Only" sign marked the space she shared with Petra, the salon's owner, who would have left minutes before Gigi was scheduled to arrive. The bar's day shift would soon give way to the night shift, too, but summer happy hours demanded the efforts of all her employees, especially with Sunset Sounds just a short walk away.
>
Aerosmith was blaring through the back door as she pulled it open. She bobbed her head to the music. This was going to be a good day.
She headed down the narrow hallway, past the steps leading down to storage and up to the roof, past the bathrooms and her office. The loud music and sounds of cheerful people drinking pulled her the way the moon pulled the tides. She entered the bar pumped up and ready for a long night's work.
A booth of her regulars lifted their glasses to greet her. She waved at them and headed behind the bar, where her day manager poured vodka and Apple Pucker into her cocktail shaker. Three martini glasses, filled with ice and water to chill them for cold cocktails, waited on the rubber bar mat.
"What's up, Heather?" Gigi tried not to take up much space. With bartenders and Heather working the wells, it would be easy for her to get in the way.
"Just another Wednesday," Heather said, popping the top onto the shaker. Today, her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a braid that slid back and forth between her shoulder blades as she worked.
As Heather started liquor and ice rattling away, Gigi scanned the bar, taking in the spirited crowd. A good mix tonight. Tourists from the hotel farther up Low Tide Drive and from the highway, all looking around with curiosity at the spot where the locals drank. Students down from the college, looking for a bite to eat before the band started. The contractors fresh from a long day working on the addition to the salon next door.
And one man, a little older than the rest of the bunch, alone at the end of the bar. Dressed in sober colors, he sat next to a half-full pint glass and gazed down behind the bar into space.
Heather slung the mix of ice and water out of the martini glasses before filling them with the appletinis she'd just mixed. Gigi sidled up to her.
"That guy on the end okay?" she asked, just loudly enough for her manager to hear. Everything was going so well. She hated to cut someone off so early.
"He's fine," Heather said, not looking up. "Just real quiet."
Good. They'd had trouble a few weeks ago, once with some bikers who'd strayed too far from the interstate in search of a fight, and once with some douchebag who'd followed his ex-girlfriend to the bar. Gigi didn't need any more excitement for a while. She nodded to herself and went back to surveying her customers.
Three overdressed and barely legal girls stared over Gigi's shoulder. At first, she thought they were watching Heather pour—these were the sort of girl who ordered appletinis. Gigi turned to see if her day manager was watching her newest bartender struggle with the bounce pour, caught up in the tricky balance of pushing the bottle into its own flowing stream of liquor before hopping from one mixing glass to the next.
Then Gigi spotted the object of the party girls' attention: Noah Monroe.
Her night-shift barback was manhandling three plastic racks, full of clean pint glasses, up to the back bar. An Army Ranger's big, powerful body, stretching a black T-shirt to its absolute limits. Huge arms steering his unwieldy cargo to its destination. That broad back tapering down to his waist… and then on down to a tight ass.
Oh, yeah. That was a lot more interesting to look at than appletinis and bounce pours.
Gigi made room for Heather, who delivered the three bright green drinks. Like her boss, Heather turned to follow the girls' gaze and found Noah. He hefted a bus tub full of dirty dishes and headed off to the kitchen.
"See something you like?" Heather asked.
The trio giggled, but the one on the middle stool inclined her head toward the door through which Noah had gone. "Is he… new?"
"Monroe? No, he's been here since first of the month." Gigi shared a conspiratorial grin with the girls. "Part of our summer talent program."
All of them were watching when he came out of the kitchen, and he regarded them with dark blue eyes and an amused half-smile. One of the bartenders, too far away to hear over the noise, pointed at a half-empty ice well, and he returned to the kitchen.
"Why don't I put the bus tub over here, close to you ladies?" Heather winked. "You know. Cut down on prep time."
They nodded furiously and Gigi smiled. "Be careful. You might get wet on this ride."
She was on the way back to the center well to grab an empty bus tub when Heather touched her elbow.
"Word with you?" Heather asked.
Gigi made good on Heather's promise and set the empty tub in front of the trio of girls. Then she followed Heather out of the bar into the hallway leading to the bathrooms. The manager opened the narrow door into the girls' room and gestured to Gigi, who went in first.
Gigi squinted. When had it gotten so bright in here? She looked up at the fluorescent bulbs.
"Yeah, I thought that, too," said Heather. "It's the same bulbs." Gigi looked over at her. "Keep looking."
She did, giving the surfaces her full attention. The two sinks caught her eye first. They gleamed white, and the light made the stainless-steel fixtures shine. But it wasn't just the sinks. The red tile floors glowed bright and free of grime. She went to the mirror, walking as if afraid to leave footprints. The surface of the mirror was spotless, too. No smudges or fingerprints. The corners of the metal frame looked like new.
She took a few steps in front of Heather, cautiously edging open the door to one of the stalls. Years' worth of etched writing still marked the metal walls, but the partitions were scrubbed clean, right over to the brackets that held them in place. To say nothing of the toilet, which glistened as white as the sinks.
Gigi backed out of the stall and looked at Heather with disbelief. The bathrooms hadn't been filthy before, but this… her own bathroom at home wasn't this clean.
This was Noah's work. The barback's job description included cleaning the bathroom, but most barbacks did the absolute minimum with unseemly haste. She'd had Noah long enough to know that his absolute minimum exceeded her most exacting expectations.
"Yeah," said Heather. "He just cleaned the almighty fuck out of this bathroom." She chuckled. "You should see the men's room."
"Have you seen it?"
"Checked it this morning. Touched the urinal. With my bare hand."
Gigi put her hands on her hips and looked around again, turning slowly about in a circle.
"So," Heather said.
Here it comes.
"You know; my birthday is coming up."
Gigi slid her hands from her hips into her back pockets. The annual to-do list for Heather's annual birthday party was waiting for Gigi in her office. They shut the place down at the same time every year for a private pig picking. Just fifty of Heather's closest friends.
Of course she knew.
"So maybe for my birthday… can we keep Noah?"
Gigi shook her head and laughed. Not just because she was talking about the barback as if he were an adorable puppy who had followed her to work. Heather knew she'd had this conversation with Noah before, and she knew Noah had said no.
"I know you said no," Heather said, anticipating her objection.
"I did say no. I said no because we can't afford him and because he said he isn't staying."
"Yeah. But… maybe you can ask him again."
Gigi patted her friend's shoulder. "I'm not asking him again. He said no. You're just going to have to enjoy this while it lasts."
Heather pouted, and Gigi stifled more laughter, not sure whether her friend's disappointment was exaggerated. They had been through more than their share of lazy, stupid and just plain incompetent barbacks, to be sure. It was a hazard of being a seasonal bar, she told herself. No one stayed long enough to be good at what they did, especially not the barbacks, who were the bottom of any bar's corporate ladder. A barback could work his way up from filling ice chests and into management; she and Heather had both done it. But most were just passing through, looking for a little money and a good time on the way to something that looked more appropriate on a resume.
Noah was just an exceptional case. He wasn't sticking around, either, but he was the first barback they'
d wanted to keep on in far too long.
Gigi didn't dare admit to Heather that she wanted Noah year-round at least as much as Heather did. He was that damn good. She complained about the expense and his availability—the standard gripes of a business owner struggling with staffing problems—and Heather bought it.
She wasn't lying, really. Those were two real reasons she couldn't keep Noah. But as close as she was to her day manager, who had kept many a secret over the years, Gigi couldn't let Heather know what the real deal breaker was.
There just wasn't any way Gigi could stay in the same room with Noah all year long.
That body of his. The way the muscles in his arms stood out when he did all the heavy lifting barbacks had to do. And those eyes. The sight of those deep blue eyes looking down into hers as she told him to do something made her skin prickle in a most unprofessional way.
The longer he stayed, the more she indulged in daydreams about him. Standing in her office, waiting for her orders.
On his knees, tugging at her panties with his teeth.
On his back, between her thighs, his teeth clenched in the effort to postpone the inevitable climax.
She couldn't say any of that to Heather. Thoughts like that would only lead to problems, even if they took a detour to some pleasant destinations first. Lots of responsibilities came with the keys to this place, and her father made sure she knew it before he left her in charge and started his retirement. Some thoughts would have to stay thoughts.
She'd have to make do with just the summer, too.