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He thought about coming in early tomorrow, to do the checkout then. He closed the register and picked up his towel. After grabbing the cleaning sponge, he stuck it under the warm spray in the sink. On his way to Pops’ table, he picked up the cleaning solution and walked with determined steps.
Errin still eyed him with run down mascara trails over her cheeks, like she was seeing him for the very first time. Oh hell no. She had to stop giving him the look. The look that said she was game for the night. The look that said she wanted to forget whatever’s been bothering her and he was the number one solution to make her forget.
He sprayed the cleaning formula upon the tabletop and wiped it over and over with his sponge. He felt her abrasive gaze, but he intended to keep on ignoring her. He wasn’t going to give in to her sudden interest in him. She never showed any before, so why now? Because she was drunk? That had to be the number one turn off for him. How cliché of her.
“So…” she said.
He spared a glance over his shoulder and sure enough, she blushed as their eyes met. Fuck. Errin never blushed. What in the hell is going on here?
“Stop it.” He warned.
Her eyes grew wide and she stuttered, “S-stop w-what?”
“Stop staring at me.” He stated as a matter of fact.
“I—”
“Stop looking at me as if you want me to pick you up, throw you on this table and fuck the life out of you.” He grumbled while harshly scrubbing the tabletop with his sponge. Damn confetti.
Errin gasped. “Oh my god! Are you serious?”
“That’s what you’ve been thinking about, isn’t it?” he stopped scrubbing and looked over his shoulder to her while raising a brow.
She looked from his eyes to the tabletop and back at him again. “I…erm, no! Never. You stop it. I don’t know what’s going on inside that head of yours, but I’ll have you know that I’m never going to be thrown over any kind of surface to be fucked. And certainly not by you! Ugh.”
She was such a bad liar. Her cheeks reddened even more, and her eyes blazed with fire. Those beautiful baby blues were shooting daggers at him and the weird thing was, it was making him hard as hell. He didn’t want her, but fuck if his body didn’t get that memo.
In an attempt to derail their inescapable route to FuckedupVille, he wanted to get her out of his pub as soon as possible. Otherwise he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions. “Okay, so I’m going to take you upstairs.”
“W-what? No. I don’t wanna. I wanna go home.” She pouted those damn glossy lips again while wiping the messy mascara trails from under her eyes.
Returning to scrubbing the table, he muttered. “Why you’re talking like a five-year-old?”
“Am not!” she sulked while crossing her arms in front of her black ballerina costumed chest, making her perky tits playing a game of hide and seek, drawing his eyes to the swell that now peeked over her bodice.
The little pout she wore made her look fuckin’ adorable where he often found other women annoying as they would pucker their lips. But not Errin. She always spoke her mind, often brutally honest, and would never play the innocent pouty type to get his attention. Thinking about Errin’s feisty attitude, his face turned up.
She tilted her head while assessing him. “Why don’t you ever smile? You—”
“I’m taking the couch, so you take the second bedroom to your left. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep next to a heavily snoring Pops. And let me tell you, that shit ain’t pretty.”
She went red in the face as she almost shouted, “Stop talking to me like I’m a kid. I turned twenty-six today, you know. You don’t get to—”
He stopped scrubbing the table and turned to her. “Errin, go upstairs and stop looking for a fight. You weren’t supposed to give me any lip, remember?”
He looked down at her plump lips. She probably had put some strawberry shit on it as they seemed even more pink than usual. She licked her lips and he groaned out loud.
“What?” she said.
“Stop teasing me.” He demanded.
“I’m not teasing you, old man. Never. I’m not interested. I’m nothing like your normal bimbo-type you throw out after being with you.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. But she didn’t stop there, no. He was quickly reminded it was Errin he was talking to.
“I don’t know what they see in you anyway. I mean…you’re always so…angry? Huh, and dare I say boring? And let’s not forget self-righteous? Ha! I mean the way you—”
Just to shut her the hell up, he kissed her. He grabbed the back of her head after he let the wet sponge drop onto the table. She moaned against his lips but didn’t open up for him. He placed his other hand at her tiny waist and pulled her up from the chair and tight against his body.
She gasped when his erection pressed against her. He wasn’t done yet, so he used her state of surprise to enter her mouth and let his tongue play with hers. They stood there, flooded by the harsh overhead lights and surrounded by the smell of stale beer. But while they kissed, they seemed to stand somewhere else. Some place where he also could forget.
He stopped their kiss and took a step back. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and grumbled, “Second door to your left.” He turned around and walked back into the kitchen.
