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JADEN
My eyes stick to her when I return to my barback duties. There’s a pile of dirty glasses I need to wash. But my mind keeps returning to her. She’s magnificent. Blaire, my god, she fucked me till my cock nearly fell off.
The view of her perfect ass the entire time I rammed my dick into her kept me stiff as steel. Her skin glistened, her golden-blonde shoulder-length hair laid in ringlets. When we fell against the door, her deep-blue eyes grabbed mine. I wanted to fuck her again and again.
She’s older than me, probably double my age. I don’t care; age is only a number to me. She’s built for fun, and I want to have lots of fun before I begin my classes at the university in two weeks.
My body twitches every time she slides the fork between her soft lips, wishing it was my dick. She slowly pulls it out, and I get harder.
“Hey, J, what the fuck?” Dave bellows at me over the noise of the crowd, pointing to the floor as he places more used glasses on the counter. He’s one of the two bartenders on duty every Friday night.
Glancing down, I laugh. My shorts and shoes are drenched from the bar sink overflowing.
“Goddammit. Sorry, Dave. I’ll clean it up.” I rush past him and to the back, grabbing the bucket and mop. Christ, Blaire’s got me fully distracted; I can’t even wash glasses without making a complete mess.
When I return, Dave nods toward the table where Blaire and her friend sits.
“Hey, man. Who is she?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug and keep cleaning up the water on the floor.
“You’re full of shit, J. I saw her follow you to the bathroom. You hit that, didn’t you?” Dave nudges me.
“She’s smoking hot, but isn’t she a bit old for you?”
I glance up at him.
“Maybe.” My mouth betrays me as a grin forms.
“I didn’t ask her age while I fucked her. Does it matter?” I drop the mop into the bucket.
“Not at all, man. Not. At. All.” He holds his fist for me, and I bump it with mine. He pats my shoulder as I pass him to take the mop and bucket to the backroom.
“Hey, Jaden. I need help cleaning tables,” George calls out to me.
“On it.” I grab a black tray after putting away the mop and bucket, then head out to the restaurant floor.
This isn’t the work I’ve planned for my life, but I need to learn everything I can about owning, running, and being the head chef of my own restaurant. That’s my dream. Starting at the bottom is the only way to get all the experience I’ll need.
“Will you get that table first?” I look, and he’s pointing to Blaire’s table.
“Sure.” I walk toward her table. Her back is to me. Her friend’s eyes scan me as I get closer. Her smile widens, and she crosses her legs, lifting her short skirt even higher on her smooth thighs.
I trail my eyes from her cute blue heels to her face. She’s pretty, but she’s not Blaire.
“Excuse me, ladies. Can I remove some of these plates?” I stretch across the table, knowing my shirt will tug up and give Blaire a view she’ll enjoy.
“Oh, sure.” Blaire’s eyes meet mine, and I wink. She smiles wickedly and licks her lips. She hands me the silverware, and we touch. I hold on too long, and she tugs her hand free.
“Would you be so kind and get us another round?” Her smile turns sweet, and she bats her eyelashes at me.
“Ah… I can tell Dave. He’s the bartender. And the owner of The Oasis only allows those twenty-one and older to make drinks.” I shrug. Blaire’s eyes grow wide, and she blushes.
“Okay. That’ll be fine.” She takes her wine glass and finishes her drink, then hands it to me.
“I’ll give Dave your drink order.” Blaire smiles and nods. I smile back and nod toward her friend.
I leave her, then quickly clean off the remaining tables. Stopping at the bar, I wave to Dave.
