Not usually.
Marco’s taking his sweet time, wetting her skin and sprinkling salt on her. Taryn switches on the body shot music, which is always “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard. It gets the crowd into it and lets everyone know what’s going on. I’ve never paid it much attention, but as far as mood music goes, tonight I’m really feeling it. I’d like to pour something sweet all over Olivia and then take my time licking it off.
I’m about to hurry Marco along when he finally goes to hand her the shot glass and stick the second piece of lime in her mouth. I can’t help but grin when Olivia takes the wedge from his fingers and does it herself. Maybe the attraction I see in Marco’s eyes only goes one way.
I feel smug.
Olivia turns to look at me, her eyes wide and alert. I bend to whisper into her ear. “If you’re really uncomfortable with this, you don’t have to do it.”
I hold my breath as I lean back to get her answer, hoping the brave one will win out.
And she does.
Slowly, Olivia shakes her head and wiggles a little closer to me on the bar. Her eyes are sparkling with determination. And challenge. And it makes me jerk in my jeans.
I grin at her. “All right. You asked for it,” I say, just loud enough for the guys around me to hear. They cheer me on.
Moving down to stand in front of her waist, I bend and put my tongue against the skin of her stomach. I feel her muscles contract. The salty and sour flavors cause saliva to gush into my mouth, so I close my lips and swallow, kissing her stomach before continuing to lick my way around her navel.
She lies perfectly still as I lap up all the salt. When I’m done, I lift my head just a little and I see her strain toward me. It’s a small movement. Probably nothing anyone else even noticed. But I noticed.
Draping one arm across her hips to hold her still, I dip my tongue into her bellybutton. She twitches beneath me and I could swear I hear her gasp, even above the music.
When I lift my head, my eyes meet hers and in them, whether she would ever admit it or not, is desire. Lots of hot, sweaty, pin-me-up-against-the-wall desire.
Without looking away, I reach for the shot glass and down the Patron. I see her chest rise with the deep breath she takes as I move toward her head.
Cupping the back of her neck, I pull her face to mine. I wrap my lips around the lime wedge she holds between her teeth and I suck every last drop of juice from it. The thing is, she never once loosens her hold on it. I can’t help but wonder if she’s imagining the same scenario with a deserted bar and nothing between us but heat.
When I lean back, I notice she looks as…bothered as I feel. I think if we were alone, she’d have a hard time saying no to anything I wanted to do to her.
Marco interrupts the moment. “Welcome to Dual!”
Again, cheers go up all around. Olivia’s smile is a bit vague as she switches gears from our hot encounter to the fact that there’s a bar full of guys vying for her attention. But she recovers quickly, taking the lime out of her mouth and holding it up in victory.
She tosses me a cheeky grin and then spins around to jump off the bar and resume her position behind as an employee behind it. “All right, guys, who needs a refill?”
And just like that, she’s in full swing as a bartender at Dual. My only concern now is keeping Marco away from her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN - Olivia
My first thought upon waking is of Cash. Licking my stomach. Tonguing my navel. And then looking so hard into my eyes.
God, I could’ve devoured him right then and there!
Damn the bad boys!
I blame everything on my inherent weakness for them, because my head tells me I should be looking for someone much more suitable. Someone like Nash.
Nash.
In my head, I even sigh over his name. He’s every bit as delicious as his brother. Obviously. They’re twins. And even though he’s got less of the edge that seems to draw me in like a bee to honey, he’s got so many other things I love.
My phone rings. I look at the caller ID and no name pops up with the number, which means I don’t know the caller. I consider not answering, but I’m already awake so I might as well.
“Hello?”
“Good morning,” a gruff voice growls at me. Within a fraction of a second, I not only recognize the voice, but I react to it. My stomach flutters in pleasurable excitement.
“Good morning,” I return. It’s Cash.
“I was hoping to get to talk to you before you left last night.”
His comment brings up an unpleasant thought from the previous night. Just before the last of the patrons were herded out of the building, Taryn had disappeared through the same door I’d seen Cash use and neither had come back out. Marco had showed me how to close up and, when we were done, he offered to walk me to my car, so I let him. I was irritated and had no intention of waiting around for Cash like a puppy dog. Even if he is my employer. It’s the principle of the thing. I remember thinking that he’s just like all the other bad boys. Fun-loving, exciting, and, ultimately, unfaithful.
Not that it seems he has anyone to be faithful to, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he did.
Shaking off the thoughts, I remind myself that I don’t care about Cash. He’s my employer and that’s it. End of story.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you and Taryn,” I explain, hating the waspish bite to my tone. I soften it a bit with, “Marco showed me everything I needed to do anyway. No big deal.”
“Marco, huh?”
Is it my imagination or is there some venom in his voice now?
“Yeah. He’s great.”
He humphs and then pauses for a second before continuing. “Taryn had some concerns she needed to address with me before tonight, which is why I’m calling you.”
I’m relieved. Instantly. And I hate that I am. It irritates me. But more than that, now I’m worried. This call seems ominous.
“Is there a problem?”
“Look, I’m not the type to beat around the bush or to get involved in petty rivalries, so I’m just gonna be straight with you. Taryn isn’t particularly interested in training you. She doesn’t have a specific reason; she just isn’t. I won’t tell you what I think it is, because it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I want you working at Dual. I know you need a specific shift. If she can’t work with you, that’s her problem and she can find something else that might make her happy.”
“So, what does this mean? What are you saying?”