Page 66 of Burn For Me

“Woo,” Chase said, shaking his head, obviously feeling the same sensation I was. “Damn, that shit will burn the hairs right off your ball sac.”

Two more shots, this time a lighter-colored drink, were poured into glasses and slid over.

“To misery loves company,” I toasted, raising up the next glass.

A twisted grin crept across Chase’s face.

“To misery loves company,” he repeated before holding out his own small glass so we could clink our glasses together. “This one is fireball whiskey—hope you like cinnamon.” He didn’t bother with the countdown this time, and with a nod, we tossed the shots back.

“Fuck, wow.” I smacked my lips together and looked at the little glass in wonder. “The answer is yes, I do,” I said. “I could drink more of that.”

“In due time. We need to get you acclimated to all the bounty there is to offer first.”

A third drink was set down in front of me, this one as clear as water.

“To answer your earlier question, the answer is yes,” I offered.

“Yeah, figured it was a fucking woman. Only the opposite sex can fuck with a guy’s brain that much. I’m going through my own shit, a fucking Princess. Fucking hot ass, and those legs….” Chase shook his head and picked up the shot.

“Huh?”

Chase waved off the question and pointed to the shot I still had yet to pick up.

“Ready? This is vodka, and the shit will really mess you up, so don’t drink too much. Unless, of course, you want to get messed up.” Not waiting any longer, we swallowed the shots down. I stuck my tongue out at the taste, making Chase laugh hard.

“I fuckin’ like you, man.” Chase clapped me on the shoulder.

“That’s only ‘cause you don’t know me,” I said, my eyes going back up to the image of smoke and flashing lights that were front and center on the screen. With the black night sky as the backdrop to my work, it really did look stunning.

“Most would say the same about me.” Chase gave me a wink as the fourth shot was laid on the bar. I stared at the dark brown liquid, my head already getting a touch woozy.

Chase grabbed the little glass.

“This is Kahlua, and you’ll like it. I’ll race ya?”

Smiling, I nodded, laughing as we knocked the drink back on the count of three. I slammed the little glass down a second before Chase.

“Beginner’s luck,” Chase snorted before pointing to a bottle that was a pale golden shade. “That one is the best. Hey Mike, give us the whole bottle, three more shot glasses each, and the salt.” I watched in eager fascination as Chase reached over the bar and grabbed a dish of sliced lemons. “You’re gonna love this.” I let out a barking laugh.

“You keep saying so.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to unvirginize you.” Chase paused as the two of us stared at each other before we both roared with laughter. After lining up the shot glasses on the bar in front of us, Chase rubbed his hands together.

“Okay, so you lick your hand like this.” My eyebrow rose up as I watched Chase’s tongue lick the back of his hand like he was a fucking cat cleaning himself. “Then you put salt on your hand where you licked, so it sticks.” He picked up the shaker and shook some of the white granules onto the back of his hand. “So then, you’re going to lick the salt off. Then you take the shot, put the lemon in your mouth, and suck hard. Got it?”

Reaching down the bar, I grabbed a second salt shaker.

“Ready.” I smiled as Chase rubbed his hands together and cracked his neck like he was getting ready for a fight.

I followed Chase’s lead and licked the back of my hand. Waiting until Chase said, ‘go,’ I shook salt onto my hand, grabbed the first glass, tossed it back, and then laughed as we both grabbed for a lemon at the same time. The little container tumbled, leaving a trail of lemons on the bar. My stomach was churning like I’d swallowed a volcano that was about to erupt by the time we finished the three shots that had been set up for the challenge.

Chase let out a belch and shook his head as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small container. Opening it, he tapped some white powder onto a small, dry section of the bar.

“You wanna try some, man?” Chase asked, holding out the container. I stared at the white lines of cocaine that Chase had set up and was tempted, but ultimately I shook my head. I was already feeling woozy. I didn’t need to add that shit to my system.

“More for me, then,” he replied. I watched in fascination as Chase rolled up a one-dollar bill and snorted the shit up his nose before lighting up another cigarette. I stared at the glowing cherry before he moved his hand down and blew a stream of smoke up into the air. “So, why are ya wearing a hood inside?”

I peered at him from under the hood.