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“What time is breakfast?” I ask with a half smile. She’s probably a demon on her knees. All the blood runs to my dick when I imagine holding a fistful of her blazing-red hair, watching those dark lips slide up and down my cock. Her bright eyes gazing up at me.Damn.
She straightens and steps back from the bar. She feels the attraction, but I’m the one with the guts to say it first. But I needed to say it before she closes me out forever. At least, let her have that thought in her head. It might be enough to tempt her to give me a chance when shit hits the fan.
She leaves me to my soda and tends to the others. I’d rather stick my dick in a beehive than watch her flirt with other men. But more than that, I’m annoyed that I’m annoyed. It’s irrational, but most infatuations are. Despite how much I try to oppose my attraction to Freya, it only seems to grow. The more I push her away, the bigger the temptation is to make a move. And seeing her laugh and joke with other customers makes me surprisingly jealous—I’veneverbeen a jealous guy—there’s never been a reason to be. Usually, other men worry about me.
I’m out of line for assuming I have any claim on her. But my feelings don’t give a fuck if I’m being unreasonable, it still pisses me off every time she flashes that smile at another man. I don’t get them on camera since she doesn’t show her face, the closest I’ve come is hearing it in her voice. They’d probably be envious I’ve seen her naked, but those smiles are priceless. They should be mine.
Even though I suspect she’s mostly smiling because she’s a great bartender, it still makes me twitchy. She’s terrific at her job; she knows how to work the room and make people happy. Now that I see her in her element more, her passion for entertaining and creating a fun atmosphere is obvious. She’s busting her ass back there, but she’s doing it with an upbeat attitude, well, except for when forced to interact with me. I take full responsibility for her contempt—this was the idea, right? Everything is going according to plan. So why do I have all this pent-up aggression whenever she’s around?
The team is back in the corner, as usual, but I can’t seem to move from this barstool. Witnessing her work is weirdly captivating. The way she moves between customers and juggles orders is flawless, every transition is smooth from one task to the next. It’s satisfying to watch in the same way seeing someone power wash an old patio on YouTube is.
I’m having a good time until some smarmy fucker pulls up the barstool next to me. I already don’t like the way he’s leering at her.
“How are you doing tonight?” she asks, placing a cardboard coaster in front of him.
“I’m great now. How are you?” he replies, staring at her chest with zero shame.
How does she deal with this shit daily?
“Excellent. What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a redheaded slut.”
My ears perk up. I stare straight ahead and pretend to watch the TV behind the bar while I eavesdrop.
“Do you want that in a drink or a shot?”
“Hopefully, in you.”
My eyes dart to hers. She’s not impressed. I’ll give her the opportunity to rip into this guy herself, but if she doesn’t, I will.
“Classy.”
“Ya know . . . I notice you every time I come in. You gotta boyfriend, baby?”
I hate this guy. I sit up taller, hoping my size will intimidate him into shutting the fuck up.
“Nope,aaand not your baby. We have two-for-ones on bottles tonight. Let me know if you decide what you want.” She steps away to check on other patrons.
“Alright, alright,” he acquiesces loudly. “Let’s do the two-for-one. Heineken.”
Gotta love a good stereotype.
“You got it.”
My shoulders relax.
After setting them in front of him, he reaches for her wrist, but she snatches it out of his grasp.
“I didn’t give you permission to touch me,” she asserts.
“Yeah, but if you did, I bet I could make youreallyhappy.”
She swallows but quickly covers up any fear in her eyes. This guy is a fucking predator. Seeing her uncomfortable makes me furious. Her gaze bounces to me for half a second, she probably sees the anger on my face. This asshole is at the top of my shit list.
I’m about to say something when Freya’s demeanor changes. Her back straightens in defiance, and she presses her tongue into her cheek, smirking at him.Good luck, champ.This dude is about to get annihilated. There’s something ferocious behind her eyes.
Atta girl, give him hell.
