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I mix his second drink even stronger than the first and set it down before him. “Thanks,” he says.
“My pleasure.” I lean on the bar, folding my arms, and I know it plumps my breasts. His eyes can’t help but flick there. “You from around here?”
He shakes his head, hand curling around the first screwdriver. “Traveling through. Looked like a nice bar to have a few drinks.”
I flash him a flirty smile. “This place is a dump, but I make excellent cocktails.”
Vince smiles back, taking the bait. “Too bad you’re working or I’d buy you one. Of course, it probably wouldn’t be as good as yours.”
“Too bad indeed,” I purr, reaching out to stroke a fingertip down the back of his hand.
Vince flushes as I draw away. I shoot him a wink and turn toward the rear bar, noticing now that his attention is fully on my ass where I want it to stay.
I’ve got him hooked.
***
It doesn’t takelong… a few hours and four screwdrivers with double shots of vodka, and Vince is drunk.
I’ve managed to flirt with him for the last hour and a half, lacing dirty talk and innuendo within our conversation and ensuring that his butt would stay glued to the bar stool.
He practically drools as he watches me.
I smile as I walk by, approaching Sam down at the other end of the bar. I tap him on the shoulder. “Do you mind if I take a fifteen-minute break?”
“Of course not,” Sam exclaims, sounding relieved I’ve asked for a bit of time from behind the bar. I know he doesn’t want to lose one of the best bartenders he’s had in a while.
He’s a sweet man, and I wish I could care more about him, but I don’t.
“Thanks.” I head back down the bar toward Vince. He smiles as I get nearer, but I can see he has to squint a little to stop the blurred, drunken vision. I don’t waste any time. Leaning over the bar toward him, I say, “I’ve got fifteen minutes and an apartment upstairs. Care to join me?”
Apparently, Vince isn’t that drunk because he asks, “Is it going to cost me anything?”
I wag a finger playfully. “I’m not that kind of woman,” I tease, although I used to be. On occasion, I’ve had to spread my legs for money, but now I make it slinging drinks. “Only going to cost you a little bit of time.”
“Then let’s go,” he says, lurching up off the stool.
I meet him at the end of the bar and take his hand. Winding my way through the crowd, we head to the back hallway, past the restrooms to a staircase that leads up.
The boards groan under our weight as we ascend and leave the loud music and chatter of people behind.
At my apartment, I let go of Vince’s hand to pull out my key. He steps into my backside, his hands going to my waist. His breath is hot on my neck as he slurs, “You going to be a good girl for Daddy.”
I push the door open and step through, turning to face him as he stumbles in. My hand goes between his legs, and I find him soft.
Typical.
“I don’t know.” I work at his belt, giving him a playful look, and I lick my lower lip to hold his attention. “Have you been a good daddy?”
“The best,” he assures me.
“You going to let me tie you up and have my way with you?”
“Oh God,” he mutters with a groan. “Please say that’s not a joke.”
“It’s not.” I grab his hand and lead him to my small bedroom that contains nothing but a rickety iron bed and one night table. All my possessions hang in the closet or are still secure in my suitcase. “Get naked.”
While Vince stumbles around shedding his clothes, I pull out some fishnet stockings I sometimes wear with short skirts.
