“There are several things on offer tonight, but they might not be what you’re looking for.”
“I’m sure there’s something in this bar I’m looking for.” His eyes flashed.
“Then you should probably look at the bar instead of the woman serving behind it.”
The twitching in his lips pulled them into a full-fledged smirk. “I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”
“Oh, isn’t that the problem,” I muttered, turning to serve another person.
Ivan’s eyes were on me the whole time, following every one of my movements as I poured three pints and handed them to the barely legal co-eds eyeing me up.
“Are you working all night?” one of them asked. He was built and leaned his elbow on the bar so his bicep flexed.
“I am,” I smiled at him flirtatiously.
He winked before turning away with his buddies.
I heard a
“Two eighty, please.”He counted out the exact change and dropped it on the bar, the sound clinking over the music. “Do you often go home with college kids who wank more often than they fuck?”'Wank'. What a wonderful word.“Why are you smiling?”I licked my lips. “Wank. It’s a very British word.”“I’m British, if you hadn’t noticed.”“I noticed. Somewhere between you hooking my legs over your shoulders and pinning me against my car.” I leaned against the bar again. “Does it matter if I leave work with college guys?”“You’re free to leave with who you like. For now.”“For now? That sounds like someone planning to intervene in my lifestyle.”Ivan drunk his beer in one go and slided the bottle across the bar to me. “That sounds like someone who’s meeting you from work with an offer
And that talking bullshit. I bet he wanted to talk—with his cock. Frankly, thought, I prefer his cock talking over his mouth talking. His cock isn’t capable of spouting complete and utter douchery - nonsense.I shivered as I unlock my apartment door. Thinking about his cock isn’t helping matters here. In fact, all it was doing is getting me worked up. It was not getting his arrogant ass out of my head or the tingle of his touch off my skin. It was making it worse.I grabbed my phone to call Dayton, but 1:45 blinks back at me from the bright screen. Huh. Maybe calling her at almost two a.m. isn’t a smart idea.I took a long breath and glanced at Angus curled on the sofa. I turn the key in the lock and headed for my room, intent on calling my best friend in the morning.Dayton asked me to meet her at the coffee shop to talk about something on her mind.“I don’t have long.” Dayton slided into the seat opposite
“What the hell are you doing here?”Ivan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve never left a beautiful woman sitting alone in a coffee shop.”“Oh, I believe you.” I dropped my phone into my purse. “Luckily for me, I was just leaving.”“Sit down, Bree.”My eyes immediately narrowed at the use of my short name. Only my mother uses my short name. “Call me by my proper name and I’ll consider it.”He sighed like it was a hardship to repeat himself. I’ll give him a fucking hardship. Being stalked by his ass is as hard as it gets.“Sit down, Brenda.”“You never said please.”His eyes met mine, annoyance darkening them. “Are you this annoying normally or do you reserve it for me, babe?”“Oh, I have a special brand of annoying I keep just for assholes who won’t leave me alone, babe.” I
I’m too exhausted to be at work today, but the afternoon and early evening shift is easy. Five hours, and no rush until 8.00 p.m., when everyone was done having dinner. Perfect.My phone rqng and I dug it out from my purse. My agent’s name was glaring at me. “Hey.”“Brenda! I’m so glad I caught you before your shift. I have news.”I shifted. “Good or bad?”“Good! I’m happy with your edited photos from your last shoot, and I’ve picked out my favorites for you to look over. Are you free on Monday? At two?”I ran over my shifts in my head. “Sure. I’m working at six then.”“Perfect. I’ll pencil you in. It won’t take long. I’d like to get them finalized and sent off.” The shuffling of papers came down the line. “And—oh! I have another shoot for you. What are you working over the next two weeks?”&l
I think my vibrator is broken.It must be. I’m not willing to admit the alternative—that my orgasm is maybe a little broken.At least I have my orgasm, I rationalized while pouring a cup of coffee. It was a lackluster and the spark seemed to have disappeared somewhat, but it was still there. It was enough to get rid of the sexual frustration.Of course, I know how to fix it. All I have to do is think about a certain British man and wheeee! There she is. But that is not a smart move.I was beginning to crave a man I barely knew.The sound of his voice, the brush of his fingertips across my palm, the darkness of his gaze. Every minute I spent with him only added fuel to the fire. I was attracted to him in a way that was forbidden, if only by myself. I wanted him in a way that was, oh so tempting.Want and crave are different. Want is safe. You can be on a diet and want a chocolate bar, but it doesn’t mean you’ll give in
Click. Click. Tap. Click. That was all I heard for two hours. And don’t get me wrong. I’ve been at shoots longer than this, but I didn’t get in until three thirty this morning. This is not what I wanted to be doing after a long-ass shift, especially not when I’m back there tonight.“You have must have enough now.”“I do, but you’re so pretty to photograph. You make my job real easy, Brenda.” She sighed and set the camera down. “You’re gonna help me finish this degree. I know it.”“Great. Can I get change now?”“One more.” She raised her camera again and I pout exaggeratedly, leaning into her with one hand on my hip. She laughed, snapping the picture. “Okay, okay. I get it. Ms. Model is all tired out.”“Ms. Model has to go to work soon,” I corrected. “And she’s hungry.”Dayton looked at the time on the cloc
I collapsed back onto my sofa. Pizza, a late night working, and the 30 Day Shred are not an ideal combination. In fact, they’re not desirable. Not in the slightest.My phone rang, I reached for it lazily, not moving from my slouched position. “Hello?” I groaned into the receiver.“Am I interrupting something?”The British accent made me sit up. I moaned at the ache in my muscles. “Yes. You interrupted my post-workout collapse.”“Post-workout? Does that mean I’m talking to you and you’re all sweaty?” His tone was suggestive, and I wanted to rip his face off through the phone.“If I’m not sweaty, I’m not doing it right,” I retorted, swinging my legs around so my feet are on the floor. “Bypassing the question of how you got my number, why are you calling me?”“Dayton wants me to invite you for lunch.” “Why can’t she call
I frantically scanned the room. There was always a towel lying discarded somewhere in the room, but for the first time ever, there wasn’t. All because I did laundry that morning. Damn laundry.Crap. “Um, Ivan?” I called through the bathroom door. “Ivan!”“What’s wrong?” The door rattled as he leaned against it or something.“I, um, I forgot my towel.”He paused. “You forgot your towel?”“Yes, and now I’m getting cold, so could you get me one? Please?” I can’t believe I’m asking this. Fuck my life.“Where are they?”“In the closet behind you. Second shelf.” Oh, God. Please don’t find the Hello Kitty one.“Hello Kitty. Nice.” He laughed.“Can you just pass me the damn towel?”“I would love to, baby girl, but I can’t.”“Why not?&rdqu