Lucky Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Stories that Get to the Point

by L. A. Boruff

  “‘S’up with the robot?” I ask as I stop in front of her.

  “Back with the questions?” That brow lifts again like she doesn’t know whether to enjoy my curiosity or not. “Gonna top me off first?”

  “Depends on if you’re gonna open a tab or not,” I reply with a sultry smile.

  Hell, I’d top her off even if she didn’t open a tab. Even though her question is completely innocent, something about her makes me want to see if I can rile her up. She’s too put together, too controlled. The least controlled thing she’s done since she’s been here is slam back those two glasses and even that was all her choice.

  That burp was the chaos. An involuntary release that left her sated. I need to make her feel like that. Get those gem-like eyes to roll to the ceiling for a whole other reason. Oh yeah, that’s my mission for the night.

  She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out her phone. It has a wallet case with multiple slots. Functional, I can appreciate that. She pulls out a card and hands it over to me.

  “Open the tab, and get me my drink.”

  “You’ll answer my questions?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Sure, sure. Whatever ya wan’ta know.”

  I pluck the card out of her fingers and take a quick glance at her name before slipping it into my shirt pocket. Addison. Cute. “One Guinness coming right up.” I pick up her glass and move to fill it while she watches me with suspicion in her gaze. “So, your ex. What kinda douchebag is he?”

  She huffs out a breath as I place the glass in front of her. “The worst kind.” She takes a deep drink. “A cheater. An idiot too.”

  “Well, he’d have to be to cheat on someone like you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I know you’re attractive. That’s usually enough in my book.”

  I wink at the shock on her face. Sucks, but it’s true. There’s usually no need for me to look past appearances when I’ve got women throwing themselves at me. I don’t have nor want a girlfriend, and I’m not looking to settle down anytime soon. When you’re looking for a good time, personalities don’t matter.

  Addison looks like she can’t decide whether she appreciates my honesty, or wants to throw the rest of her drink in my face. I pour all the charm into my smile as she narrows her eyes. She shrugs and takes a sip.

  “Fair enough.” She places her glass back down and traces a grain in the bar top. “I suppose when you look like you do, brains don’t really matter.”

  “Oh.” I chuckle. “Brain definitely matters, both giving and receiving. But I’m sure that’s not what you were talking about.”

  “You’re such a guy.” She shakes her head, sending her wild curls flying about.

  “You don’t seem too bothered by that.”

  “Why would I? I’m a hot-blooded female just like all the others. I’m just better than most at prioritizing.”

  “And what is your priority, Miss Addison?”

  “So you learn my story, barkeep, and I don’t know yours?”

  “That’s usually how these things go.” I shrug.

  “Not in my world.”

  I smirk and stand from my leaning position on the bar. “So I see.” I extend my hand to her over the top of the bar. “Dominick Kelly, owner of Unlucky Shots, bartender, and renown ladies man.”

  Her expressive eyes widen at my nonchalance, and I fight back a grin. Something about this girl just hits all my buttons. I’m practically foaming at the mouth to get the chance to return the favor.

  Addison adopts a neutral expression with her chin raised as she places her hand in mine. “Addison Blake, mechanical engineer, jilted lover, and sexual deviant.”

  Now it’s my turn to be shocked. How can such a contradiction exist in one tiny body? I’d blame her words on the alcohol but she barely even seems buzzed. This girl means every word out of those sexy little lips.

  “Sexual deviant, eh? I think I can take you.”

  A deadly smile crosses her lips and lights her face. “You can try.”

  3

  Kelan

  I run my hand through my chin-length, blond hair in aggravation as the table in the back signals for my attention once again. Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem catering to the drinking whims of a group of girls in crop tops, but I’ve been pulling double duty at the bar and on the floor since some redhead caught Dominick’s attention. I can’t even see what she looks like since he’s blocking her from the whole damn bar like some fucking watchdog.

  Just piss on her, Dom, it’ll be less taxing.

  Rolling my eyes at my own thoughts, I finish up my order at the bar and head over to the table with a pad. Time to bring on the charm. Giving the table my patented panty dropper smile, I stop a few inches short of reaching distance. I learned on my last trip that these girls are handsy.

  “How ya doing, ladies? What can I getcha this time?”

  “Oh, we’re fine,” one of the blond’s with too much makeup giggles. “We were actually wondering if you’d seen our friend.”

  “She went to the bathroom a while ago and hasn’t come back,” a brunette in the middle pipes up.

  Roving my eyes over the table, I notice the empty seat with the lightweight jacket over the back. I try to remember what the girl looks like, but honestly, all these sorority types look the same to me. The Greek letters are large across their small but perky breasts, but I was never good at languages. Unlike Dominick, who learned fucking Gaelic.

  “I’m sorry.” I force out a laugh. “But maybe I’m missing something here. Why don’t one of you just go in after her?”

  “Oh, she’d definitely prefer it if you were to find her,” the other blond replies, twirling a piece of her hair around her index finger. “If you don’t mind?”

  “Sure.” I nod with a tight smile. “Not a problem. What’s her name?”

  “Amy.”

  Of course it is.

  They do that drunken giggle as I turn to walk across the room and down the hall leading to the bathrooms and back offices. I knock twice on the door for the ladies room and wait for an answer. Hearing nothing, I try the knob. The door opens with ease, not a soul in the small space filled with a toilet and sink.

  What a waste of my fucking time.

  As I’m letting the door close I hear something fall in one of the back rooms and a muffled squeak. It’s probably the damn rats again, but Dom will have a bitch fit if they’ve knocked over the premium brews again.

  Grumbling to myself, I walk down to the end of the hall and open the last door on the left. Our supply room is full of extra bottles of beer and alcohol, along with random cleaning supplies and glasses. I turn on the light and everything looks the same way it did when I was back here a few hours ago before opening. But I know I heard something.

  Closing the door, I turn around and open the door to mine and Dom’s shared office. Ah, there’s the source of the noise. One of our busboys, Ethan, has his black ass leaning against our desk as the missing sorority girl gives him a blowjob. And she’s being very vocal about it.

  Dominick’s nameplate, that he just had to be obnoxious and buy, is now on the floor. Which must have been what I heard from down the hall. I have half a mind to interrupt them, but hell, she’s actually not half bad. You’d think she’s God’s gift to men with the way Ethan’s moaning and bucking.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be watching, but this is my fucking office, and his ass is on the clock. He’s lucky I’m nice enough to let him finish. His hand grips the back of the girl’s head as he grunts.

  “Shit, babe. That’s it, right there.”

  I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms, while she moans around his cock.

  “Fuck yeah,” he groans. He takes her head in both hands and thrusts deep into her mouth, continuously plunging himself to the back of her throat. It’s enough to make her gag, a sound the fucker seems to enjoy. “Yeah, you like that? You like choking on my cock?”

  My eyes roll as she grabs his waist. The
sounds she’s making aren’t even attractive anymore. I don’t know how guys get off to this shit. Ethan keeps thrusting, his movements becoming sporadic. He’s close.

  “Fuck. Get ready, here it comes.” His back seizes up as he pushes her all the way down on his cock. It’s clear she’s choking on the cum spurting out of him, but she’s not trying to spit it out. More than a few drops spill out the sides of her mouth. I avert my eyes to give them some semblance of privacy as he pulls out of her mouth. Lord knows I don’t need to see that shit.

  “Ahem,” I clear my throat to announce my presence.

  “Shit! Kelan.” When I look back, he’s pulling the chick up from the ground. She’s trying to discreetly wipe the cum off her face, while he’s all neatly tucked away. “Man, it’s not what it looks like,” he continues.

  “I don’t care.” I shake my head because I really don’t. Dominick and I have had our fair share of ass in this office on the clock. I mean, we own the place, but we’re not tyrants. I’m not pissed that he got some head while working. I’m pissed that I’ve had to do his job and Dominick’s for the last half hour because of some fucking girl or another. Shit, maybe I need to get my dick sucked in the bathroom.

  “Look.” I pull myself back to the situation at hand. “Her friends are looking for her, and I need you back on the floor. So disinfect my fucking desk and get back to it.”

  I turn around and walk out of the room before either of them can make a peep. When I’m back out on the floor, I run an aggravated hand through my hair at what I see at the bar. Dom and the chick he’s been babysitting are shaking hands. Seriously? Shaking fucking hands? She’s not even his type. She’s a redhead, and tiny as hell! What the fuck is going on today?

  Stomping behind the bar, I grab a bottle of Jameson and two shot glasses. I walk back around to the other side and stand behind the mystery girl, catching Dominick’s attention.

  “Kelan.” He leans back. “What’s up, man?”

  “What’s up?” I ask mockingly. “I’m taking my twenty, that’s what’s up. Matter of fact, I’m taking yours too.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, and I’ll be borrowing your little friend. See you in a bit.”

  The girl spurts indignantly as I take her arm and pull her across the room to an empty table. I gently push her into the seat as I smirk over my shoulder at Dom. He’s pissed. His eyes are narrowed in our direction, but he can’t do a damn thing about it since he’s the only one behind the bar and Olivia is working the floor while I’m on my break. Ethan finally comes out of the back room to do his job, but I’m not worried about him. No. I need to see what the fuck the deal is with this girl in front of me.

  I take a seat across from her and open the bottle I placed on the table. Her arms are crossed, pushing up her breasts, but not in any obvious way. She’s just pissed. So says her narrowed green eyes and pinched bow-shaped lips.

  Those green orbs take stock of my ample size as I fill up the glasses. Yeah, darling, that’s right. Take it all in. I’m not like Dom. Unlike him, I actually chose to play sports in school. Played football all throughout high school, and kept up my size in the gym through college.

  She doesn’t look impressed. That’s a first.

  Her back hits the chair as she raises a dark brow. “Is there a reason you manhandled me away from my drink?”

  The slight accent in her tone surprises me. So that’s why he’s been all over her, the Irish connection. “Brought you a new one.” I push one of the glasses closer to her and lean back in my chair.

  “I wasn’t drinking whiskey.” And she’s got a mouth on her. Oh yeah, I can see why he’s interested. Sucks that he’s now on bar duty.

  “Consider it an upgrade.” I send her a wink before picking up my glass and shooting back my drink. “So, what’s your story?”

  She rolls her eyes before unraveling her arms to pick up her glass. “What it is with the guys who work in this bar?” she asks before taking the shot. Not even a wince as the alcohol goes down her throat. “Am I supposed to be some bleedin’ heart because I’m tiny? If I wanted to have a heart-to-heart, my first choice wouldn’t be to come to a bar alone.”

  “So why did you come here alone?”

  “Why did you steal me from your friend?”

  Her fight throws me off guard. Looking her over more closely gives me nothing more than my original perusal. She’s tiny, has some kind of scientific equation on her shirt with a robot, her jacket covers most of it up. Her hair is wild around her head and her green eyes are full of fire.

  That’s new.

  “Why don’t we start over?” I try a different approach. I reach across the table with an open hand. “I’m Kelan Morgan, owner and sometimes bartender of Unlucky Shots. Known to be slightly intimidating but attractive enough to let it pass for a good time.”

  There’s that eyebrow again. It’s actually kind of sexy.

  I pull back my hand when she doesn’t move to give me hers. “Which part of that didn’t you like?”

  “What makes you think I didn’t like it?”

  Still answering my questions with questions. Man, I like her spunk.

  “The eyebrow,” I respond. “You raise it when you want to call bullshit.”

  Her brow quirks like she’s fighting against it. It makes me smile.

  “It’s not bullshit, exactly,” she responds.

  “Then what is it?”

  She shrugs. “Could be anything from, ‘interesting’, to ‘complete bullshit’. Depends on the twist of my lips. Or so I’m told.”

  “So what part of that was a problem?”

  “Nothing really.” She looks pointedly at the glass. I refill both and sit back. Her finger circles the rim. “You and Dominick, you’re a lot alike. I’m trying to see which one of you is a liar.”

  Her green eyes stay locked on my blue ones, waiting for some kind of sign. Not sure what sign exactly—we don’t have a reason to lie to women.

  “Neither of us,” I respond. “But what do you think we’re lying about?”

  She takes her shot. “If you’re not lying, then you both own this place? It’s interesting that you’re both so upfront about being man-whores.”

  “Whoa, hold on.” I laugh. “Who said anything about being a man whore?”

  This time, she finally cracks a smile. “Dominick said that he’s a renown playboy—sorry. Ladies man. And you basically just said that you’re scary but hot enough for women to drop their pants.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not what I said.” I take my shot and fill us back up.

  “Semantics.” She lifts a shoulder and takes her shot, prompting me to take mine but I leave the glasses empty this time. “I read between the lines. Bottom line is, you’re both attractive enough to get any girl you want. My question is, what the hell do you two want with me?”

  I lift my own brow in question. “You must know you’re attractive. Tiny, but attractive.”

  “I like to consider myself funsize, but that’s besides the point. Wha’ do ya want?”

  The Irish is coming out more now, but she seems as coherent as she did when I sat her down. “I wanted to know why my partner wasn’t doing his job.”

  “Easy. He was busy stickin’ his nose in me business. Same as you.”

  “But why you?”

  She smiles, and it’s deadly. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  4

  Addison

  I’m not sure why I’m playing with Kelan like I am. He makes it so fun. This large, blond, blue-eyed male is questioning me because his partner’s been slacking ever since I walked in. It’s positively baffling. Honestly, there’s a table full of girls in low cut shirts, and here these two bar owners are, trying to find out what makes me tick. Me! Addison Blake, in normal jeans and a shirt from work that says “Robotics Anonymous” as a scientific equation.

  But hey, I won’t complain if two hot guys want to take my mind off of Scott’s cheating ass. I had to put my phone on sile
nt after I left the train station because of how many messages were coming in back-to-back.

  There was a message from my dad along with the fifty or so from Scott when I opened my case to get my card, but I’ll deal with that tomorrow. The plan for tonight is to get nice and drunk, maybe let someone take me home, and have my wicked way with them. I highly doubt it’ll be either Kelan or Dominick, but they sure are fun to look at. Dominick has pretty brown eyes that look like a starburst from his pupil. Thin honey brown lines shoot off from the center of his eyes and look like a masterpiece against the caramel background of the rest of his eye. Kelan’s hair looks as smooth as I wish mine did some times, just a bit shorter than mine and he still manages to look manly.

  “Tell ya what.” I cross my arms on the tabletop and lean forward. “You keep the drinks flowing, and we can play twenty questions. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know as long as you do the same in return.”

  He contemplates my offer for a few seconds, scratching across his firm stubble covered jaw. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why? Afraid I’ll get too handsy?” I make grabby hands at him before resting them back on the table. “Don’t worry, I hold my liquor much better than the sorority chicks over there.” I tilt my head over to the table in the back that still holds a group of giggling sorority girls in crop tops. I’m pretty sure I went to school with one of them.

  “Oh, I’ll have no problem with you getting handsy.” A sly smile creeps across his face. “In fact, I’d prefer it. But it seems like you’re getting more out of this deal than I am.”

  “That’s the idea, love. After all, you’re the one who wants the information. I was perfectly fine drinking alone.”

  His plump lips pinch together before he gives me a sharp nod. “Alright.” Reaching for the bottles, he fills up the shot glasses. “First question, why were you drinking alone?”