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Are you really that desperate for a ride you’d lie about liking an old bastard like me…?
Ugh.
I finish up, eyes cast down as I move past the woman, then swerve around a group of guys playing darts and laughing raucously over some Garth Brooks tune playing on a jukebox nearby to find Wyatt. He’s parked his considerable frame on a tall, high-backed barstool at the long bar and pulls out the empty seat beside him when he sees me. He hoists me up by my waist and settles me on the seat, pulling it closer to his side until our thighs are touching.
I’m a petite woman by nature, though I’ve put on a few pounds after Dad stopped letting me out of the house as much. I was teased relentlessly for it as a kid, but I think Wyatt likes my short stature. I think he enjoys manhandling me, and though I might fight him on it sometimes, I get a little thrill every time he does it. It makes me think of the fantasy I had of him in the shower, how I imagined him lifting me effortlessly and pressing my back to the shower wall and…
I’ve really got to stop thinking about him like this. I feel my cheeks heat and duck my face to study the menu he hands me.
Wyatt leans in, his nose tickling the shell of my ear. “What was that look?”
“What look?” I answer, trying and failing at nonchalance.
“Uh huh. I saw the way your cheeks turned pink.” He smirks when I chance a peek at him. There’s a teasing tone to his voice, and for a ridiculous second, I’m scared he can read my mind.
Highly improbable, but I still try to blank out my thoughts before saying, “It’s just hot in here, is all.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” He winks at me when I finally get my thoughts under control enough to look him directly in the eye.
What is that, his third or fourth wink in the past hour? Note to self: Wyatt likes shaking his head, telling me to come on, manhandling me, and giving me seriously sexy winks.
“What looks good, babygirl?”
You, I think.
Instead of saying that, I answer, “Oh, um, n-nothing.”
There goes the heat creeping up my cheeks again when he grins, leans his elbow on the bar, and traces his bottom lip with his thumb. He can read my thoughts. That’s got to be it. I feel my eyes go wide with panic, and I try to blank out my thoughts again.
Laughing, he says, “On the menu. What looks good on the menu?”
God, even his laugh is sexy, too. His whole face lights up, the skin creasing at the corners of his eyes. He catches me staring and shoots me another wink.
Lord, help me.
Wyatt
Lord, help me, this girl couldn’t get any cuter if she tried. The pink in her cheeks spreads as she blushes even harder. It makes my cock swell, which is an uncomfortable and unwanted reaction in a bar full of people, but one I can’t help.
“Oh, um, I’m not sure, honey bear. What do you recommend?” She covers her mouth and giggles behind her hand when I roll my eyes, and I want nothing more than to pull her into my lap, make her straddle me, and ride my painfully hard cock.
Thankfully, a young male bartender interrupts us before I can respond or lose my mind and do just that.
“Hey there, folks. What can I get y’all?”
I clear my throat, thankful for the distraction, and turn to the bartender. “I’ll get a double order of the boneless wings and fries, and whatever you have on draft is fine.”
“You got it. And what would your daughter like?”
This little shit.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, judging by the wide smirk he gives me, watching as my face turns red in embarrassment, knowing that Dolly and I don’t look a thing alike.
“Yeah, Daddy, what should I get?” Dolly asks.
Bingo. Fuck!
She rolls her lips and bites them, stifling a giggle.
