My Bartender

I never expected to see him there, in fact I'd made a point of calling ahead to make sure he wasn't working that night. So, imagine my surprise when I reached the bar and that sinfully good looking nightmare of mine turned to greet me.

"Fuck," I swore under my breath before glancing around for an escape. He gave me that lust inducing grin and started mixing my drink. The only redeeming thing about seeing him was the knowledge that my martinis would flow like water, and they'd be mixed to perfection.

"Any time, any day of the week doll, but you know that." He winked at me and one of those long tattooed arms slid the purple martini my way. "Hell if you say the word I'll go on my break right now and we can go out back. There is this perfect little stretch of wall I'd like to pin you up against."

"Shut up." I didn't really want him to stop. Part of his charm was all the nasty things he wanted to do to me and just how much he enjoyed telling me about them. Pulling a ten dollar bill from my bra, I ignored the heat in his gaze and that little growl he gave me. "Just please be good tonight," I pleaded.

HIs perfect, chocolate coloured eyes flashed with something darker than lust and I saw his moustache twist as his mouth morphed into a frown. "Hot date?" He snapped back snatching the bill from my hand.

"A first date," I replied quietly, this was exactly why I'd called ahead. His eyes flicked past me for a moment, returning with that nasty smile that never failed to make me weak in the knees.

"Well, you look hotter than hell tonight darlin," he folded the bill and reached out to slide it back where it came from. He made a point of tracing the swell of my breasts before pulling back. "I'll be right over here when you're done pretending that you didn't just bring him here to make me jealous. Go on," he urged, "put on a show for me."

I spun on my heel and fled. Not because he told me too, but because I found it impossible to think and even breathe around him. Brian had been making my life complicated ever since I'd found this place in college. He was everything I told myself I didn't want in a man: too rough around the edges, crass, forward, tattoos all over from his neck to his wrists, a Mohawk - although now it was combed back giving him a slick, edgy look. Basically he'd never be that guy I could take home to meet the folks.

He still managed to drive me crazy. Often times with nothing more than a whisper, fuck with just a look he could make me putty in his hands. Almost every time I ended up at his bar, my night ended with him. More specifically it ended with me against a wall and then in his bed, screaming his name over and over again. It was shameless.

I, and all of my girlfriends, were convinced he'd ruined me for relationships. At the very least, he'd ruined every date that I'd had in the last five years. I'm sure you're asking why I kept coming back...so was I.

"Hi, are you Violet?" The voice that pulled me away from my inner pity party was cultured. The man it belonged to was every bit the white collar, prep school graduate I had hoped he would be. The disappointed look on his face said that I, however, didn't quite meet his expectations.

"Well, it's a pretty face at least," he muttered under his breath, and it was suddenly my turn to hesitate. It's not like I didn't warn him, I'd never lied about being a little overweight. Hell, I know that I carry it well, so to have him say that felt like a bit of a slap in the 'pretty face'.

His handshake was as weak as his chin and I had to force my smile as he sat down and took the time to look around. This was going to end badly, and hopefully, very quickly. My eyes flashed to the bar behind him and I found Brian leaning against it, conveniently in my line of sight. He gave me a look that said he was about as impressed as I was.

There was nothing to do but cross my legs and smooth the decadent fabric of my beautiful dress. It was always depressing to waste a new dress on a bad date. Charlie, my date, sighed and looked around for the waitress. Brian licked his lips and suddenly the dress wasn't so much of a waste.

"I need a drink, I'll be back in a second," my date didn't even bother to ask if I wanted anything before he stood and b-lined for the bar. Brian watched him, casually polishing a mug, then when Charlie leaned in and said, "Hey, can I get a..." Brian just turned and walked away.

It was hard to not laugh at Charlie's outrage, especially when my knight in dress shirt and vest headed straight towards me, another martini in hand. He swaggered over to me like a runway model for Hipster GQ. It had been a while since I'd darkened the bar's door, since when had he ditched the grunge band t-shirts and plaid?

Whatever this new look was, it had a deadly effect on me.

"Are you done yet?" He asked standing a little too close for comfort. "I don't even know why you play these games anymore." His shirt sleeves had been rolled up to expose the tattoo's I knew by heart. Brian put my drink down and nudged my legs apart.

I didn't hesitate, the heat in his eyes coupled with the disappointment my date promised, made the decision so very easy to make. Obediently I opened my legs, just enough for him to wedge one leg between my thighs, effectively pushing my dress, and the 50's style crinoline up my thighs.

"What game? You weren't supposed to be here," I replied sweetly. Before you ask, yes I am just as messed up as you think I am. It's almost as if I can't help but push his buttons. I love jealousy on him, while other men treat me like an afterthought, he goes crazy at the thought of someone else touching me. It's addicting.

"Really?" He asked in undisguised disgust. I followed his gaze back to my date who was now drooling over his 5'4", 110lbs bartender. Brian pinned me with an angry gaze, "You refuse to give me your number, but that you give the time of day?"

"You only want my number so you can have a booty call whenever your barstar pick ups don't pan out." My reply was biting and filled with all the jealousy and assumptions I had in regards to him. Yes, I loved the way he looked at me. I craved the way he handled my body, but I wasn't stupid enough to think he wanted me. He didn't even know me.

It was all my fault. If I hadn't fucked him in the break room less than an hour after meeting him, he might have actually asked me out. We might have hit it off and had some good times together. Now every time he saw me, it was almost a challenge to see how quickly he could get inside me.

Brian's reply was a hard, angry laugh that fit the metal head persona he'd carried for so long. "God, you make it so hard to treat you like anything more than some cheap mid-shift fuck."

That one sentence cut though my bravado and pride like a hot knife through butter. It was almost as effective at destroying my self-esteem as my mother's lecture on the connection between self-worth and body size.

There was nothing to do but drink. So I downed the glass and held it out to him, my eyes dropping to focus on the silver insignia ring on his left hand. "I'll take another."

Brian hesitated, taking it and disappearing just as Charlie decided to reappear. The guys frown annoyed me I decided, watching him with a mixture of boredom and apathy. Just another in a long line of online dating disasters; just one more example of how I was not the kind of girl guys dated.

"Do you know that guy," good ol' Charlie asked, setting his Bud Light on the table. It was impossible not to judge a guy who couldn't even drink a decent beer. "He's an asshole."

"It's pretty much his only redeeming quality," I replied dryly. I could feel Brian's eyes on me, but wasn't prepared for him to see my hurt yet. And since he could always read me like a book, the only option I had was avoidance.

Charlie turned to give me his best 'apologetic' look and I braced myself. The send off was coming sooner than I'd expected. He sighed, "Look, I'm sure you're a great gal and all, but I think both of us know this won't work out."

A glutton for punishment I found myself asking, "And why is that?"

He had the decency to look embarrassed when he said, "I'm kind of out of your league."

"Get the fuck out," Brian's voice brooked no argument, it sounded more like a threat, honestly. Which he then clarified with, "And if you so much as look at her again, I'll rip out your throat."

Charlie-boy jumped to his feet, red-faced and clearly scared shitless. I couldn't blame him. On a good day Brian resembled a former member of the Sons of Anarchy, in moments like this you wondered how many times he'd seen the inside of a prison cell.

"You're fucking crazy," He spat back at my defender. "Fucking have her, no one else wants her." Brian's hand pulled back and then connected with Charlie's face. A few seconds later Charlie hit the floor.

It might have been flattering on another night, but I'd lost the desire to be a spectacle. As Brian lunged forward to escort/drag my date towards the bouncer running towards him, I grabbed my bag and slipped out the back.

In the safety of the back alley, I lit a cigarette with a shaking hand as I waited for the crowd out front to dissipate. Crossing my arms across my chest, I faced reality. I looked ridiculous, dressed to pinup perfection, hanging out in an alley two feet away from an overflowing garbage can.

My mother would be so proud.

"That's a disgusting habit," a familiar, lust inducing voice called out. Glancing up, I found Brian only a few feet away. Even with the light behind him and his face cast in shadows I knew the expression he'd have. There would be a fire in his eyes, the same one he had every time he found me after one of our many confrontations.

"Why do you care?" I bit back taking another drag.

"I plan on devouring your mouth shortly, and I don't like kissing an ashtray."

"Really?" I asked in a venomous voice, "Is it mid-shift already?" A part of me wished I could have seen the face to go with that growl, but even in better lighting it would have been impossible. Brian lunged at me, one hand wrapping around the back of my head to cushion the impact as he slammed me into the wall.

His mouth and both those hands showed me no mercy as he angled my head to thrust his tongue as deep into my mouth as I would let him. His hands pulled at my skirt and the front of his pants as he groaned into my mouth, fighting to get closer to me.

"Fuck you, and these fucking garters," he growled, his fingers slipping under one of the bands, snapping it. "I'm going to enjoy watching them stretch out over that gorgeous ass of yours."

My self control failed me and when he lifted my thigh over his him and lodged himself inside me with one unforgiving thrust, I whimpered. Dropping the now forgotten cigarette into a nearby puddle, I ran my hands through his hair and gasped into his mouth, "Harder, please."

I felt him smile against my lips and that hand wrapped around my leg squeezed me more tightly giving him the leverage needed to pull back and slam into me over and over again. HIs cock felt amazing, like always. Long enough to fuck me in every, seemingly impossible position, and harder than hell for longer than any man should be able to manage.

He was unrelenting. Pounding into me and ravaging my mouth until I was clawing at him in desperation. He filled me in a way no one else ever had. After one night of sex I'd been addicted, and no matter how many times I'd tried to quit him over the years, I always seemed to end up back here, lost in the shadows revelling in his touch.

"That's it darling," He purred in my ear when my head dropped to nip and suck at the designs on his neck. "You know what I want." My insides fluttered around him at the thought and he chuckled. His thrusts picked up pace, and I couldn't help but cry out. "Stop fighting," he groaned, "and give me what I want. You know it always makes this better."

My hands tightened and I bit his neck, "Brian." At the sound of his name my lover slowed and the cock inside me twitched. "God I've missed the feel of you," I whispered.

"That's it," he groaned again, "don't stop." I smiled into his neck and looked forward to the bruises that would line my thigh tomorrow.

"No one has ever felt this good inside me," I confessed.

"How long has it been since you had a good fuck Vye?" He asked. My heart clenched and I thought about lying, but Brian pulled back to rest his forehead against mine his now slow pace unrelenting. "Tell me how many guys you've let inside you."

Maybe I was too tired to lie, maybe I wanted him to know the truth. Whatever it was I brushed back his hair and said, "It's been what? Five months since we've done this?"

"Five months, three weeks, and two days," He replied pushing into me again a little harder.

I closed my eyes and kissed him. "Then it's been five months, three weeks and two days since I've been fucked." He growled and the insane pace I didn't think could last, sped up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him to me. " That means It's been five months, three weeks, and two days since I've gone home with your cum dripping down my thighs."

His mouth latched onto my shoulder and I cried out his name. His moan was ferocious and it made my heart sing as he unloaded himself inside me.

Reality came crashing back a little too quickly when he pulled back and I slid back down to the ground. Fumbling with my skirts, my red face dropped, but he surprised me. Cupping my face and bringing my lips to his, he teased them until I relented and melted into him.

"It's been too long," he explained, "I couldn't wait. Let's get out of here and I'll count how many times I can get you to cum between here and home." He kissed me once more for good measure and turned to lead the way to the street. It was an easy decision to make and I went willingly.

In the back of the cab I was so caught up in the hand creeping its way up my thigh, I almost didn't question it when his lips dropped to my neck and he murmured, "Tell him your address." The cabbie watched in the rearview mirror, his eye arching in amusement and lust when Brian's fingers found my center and I gasped. My torturer chucked again.

"Unless you want to wake up tomorrow to breakfast with my mother, I suggest you tell him your address."

Without a second thought I rattled off the address.