“You.”
She laughed. He was just flirting, clearly not serious. “I’m not on the menu, but nice try.” She grabbed a laminated menu from behind the bar, wiped it down, and shoved it in front of him.
He perused the menu. “Actually, I’d like to do an official tasting tonight. Tequila tasting, I mean.”
She glanced at her watch. Quarter until midnight. Two more hours on the clock. “Maybe after hours. I can serve the flight, no problem, but I won’t have time to explain everything to you about the tequilas. Not with all these other people to serve. We’re understaffed tonight.”
“No worries, then. I’m good for now.”
A man in a white collared shirt flagged her down from the other end of the bar. She motioned toward Jaime. He took a sip of the margarita and licked the salt from the rim. Ay, she was jealous of the salt.
“I need to get back to work. I hope you like your drink.”
“It’s delicious, thank you.”
She escaped from the bar, and from the sexual tension, and walked over to the customer. After attending to that party’s needs, she checked in on a few other groups, went back to the kitchen to order some more appetizers, and then returned to Jaime. A few beautiful girls at the bar were staring at him, tossing their hair andbatting their eyelashes in his direction. She honestly couldn’t blame them.
Alma tossed her own hair. Jaime winked.
She was doomed.
“About that tasting.” He licked his lips. “How about we do it when everyone else goes home tonight? You and I, alone. Then you have all the time to teach me about tequila.”
Her hands shook. She’d be alone with him. Truly alone. For the first time since they’d broken up. Sure, she had been alone with him making margaritas at her parents’ house, but in her restaurant, a block away from her king-sized bed in her condo seemed different. Like there was no going back. This was the point of no return, and for once, she was being honest with herself about what and who she wanted.
She wanted Jaime.
Tonight. She craved the way he’d once made her feel, the pleasure he’d given her, a joy that she had not experienced since and wasn’t sure she ever would with that intensity again.
“I’ll think about it.” She paused. If he was going to sit here all night and wait for her to get off—er, get offwork, then he could help out. He grew up in the restaurant business; he had to be useful.
She threw him an apron that was tucked behind the bar.
He scratched his jaw. “What’s this for?”
“If you want that tasting tonight, you’re going to have to work for it. It’s only midnight. We don’t close for a couple more hours.”
Jaime hopped off the stool, grabbed the apron, and tied it around his muscular body.
He walked behind the bar and whispered in her ear, “What would you like me to do?” His hot breath blew on her neck, and she melted.
Me? Here? In front of all these people?
Ah, the thought of him taking her, going down on her on thebar, everyone watching, excited her. What had gotten into her? She’d never had an exhibitionism kink before.
Her mind was wild. Time to focus. What had he asked her?
Oh, right, how to help. She scanned the bar. Little green orbs beckoned.
Limes! Limes are good. She knew from the previous night that his knife skills, like all his skills, were impeccable. She handed him a sharp knife. “Okay, please slice some limes and these jalapeños.”
“Sí, Señorita.” He washed his hands in the sink and then stood behind the counter.
She placed a chopping board in front of him and he went to work. She tried not to hover over him and watch him, but he fascinated her. His slicing skills were on point. Hell, she’d hire him. Not that he needed a job. Or lived here. Or that them spending any more time together was remotely a good idea.
Two weeks ago, she’d been completely focused on her job and on hopefully getting a great review from that critic.
And now, her mind was all over the place and she was fantasizing about her ex fucking her in her bar in front of her customers.
