Chapter 1 -- Something Different About You
Erin
"Last call!" Scott yelled, and rang the bell.
My date, Dan, was stealing glances at my cleavage and droning on about some podcast or something. I held up a finger to stop him. "I've got this one," I said. "Same again?"
"Um, sure."
I got up from the table, straightening my skirt, and headed to the bar. It was crowded for a Thursday, and Scott was busy getting last orders in. He glanced at me, and gave a nod.
While I waited, I looked at myself in the mirror behind the bar. It was late August in the city, so I was wearing as few clothes as possible. I fixed my short red hair, pushed my tits up a little. They looked even bigger than usual, even without a bra, and were practically falling out of my blouse. I looked goddamn sexy, if I say so myself. Fuckable. I figured if I was going to take Dan home with me -- I hadn't gotten any for a few months, after all -- it couldn't hurt to look my best.
"Erin." Scott stopped in front of me. Had he caught me checking myself out?
"Hey, Scott," I said, blushing a bit. "Two more pints of the black stuff."
"You got it." He went to pour the pints. Now that the bar was emptying out, it was quiet enough that we could talk. He leaned on his elbows as he waited for the pints to settle. "Still can't believe you came here of all places on your night off. This a date?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Figuring that out. But I like it here. And hey, free drinks, right? Riiiight?"
Scott laughed. He had a nice laugh, deep and musical. "I guess I can do that."
* * *
We'd worked together at Flanagan's for about a year now, both bartending, me sometimes waiting tables. Scott was some kind of musician or writer, but quiet. From what little he told me, he was getting over some girl who'd broken his heart.
I watched him now as he topped off the pints. He was cute enough. Dark curly hair, bright blue eyes, tall, a shy smile. We'd even had a drunken makeout once in the walk-in during a staff party a few months ago. I'd had one hand down his pants when the bar manager/owner Zelda walked in, looking for olives or whatever. Scott and I had hurriedly pulled apart, Zelda raised an eyebrow, and that was that. We hadn't talked about it since.
* * *
Scott put the pints down in front of me. "On the house. So. The date. How's it going?"
"Okay. He's... alright, I guess. Kinda boring."
"Kinda looks it. I mean, no offense. You planning on taking him home?"
"I think so. It's been awhile. Not like I have any other options." I reached for the pints. "I figure one last drink will help."
"Hang on," Scott said, touching me gently on the hand. "You're forgetting something." He turned, grabbed a whiskey bottle from the top shelf, and poured us each a shot. "Staff drinks before you go." Weird. I felt almost a tingle where he'd touched me.
He raised his glass. "Cheers!"
"SlΓ‘inte," I said. We clinked, downed our shots. Scott was silent for a moment, just looking at me.
"He's a lucky man, Erin," Scott said quietly. My cheeks burned again, and not just from the whiskey. I hoped the lights were dim enough that he didn't notice.
"Thanks."
"Though you know," Scott said, leaning over the bar, inches from my ear, lowering his voice, "
you could always take me home instead
."
Something strange passed through me then, lust and warmth and... truth. I felt my nipples get hard against my blouse, my pussy get wet. I blinked at him, his words reverberating through me.
"I, um." I gathered up the pints. "I should get back."
"Alright," Scott said. I couldn't read his expression. "Have a good night, Erin."
"Yeah, uh, thanks."
* * *
Back at the table, I set the drinks down. I caught Dan looking down my blouse again as I sat, and I prayed he wouldn't notice my nipples through the silk. Still, I did up one of the buttons, as though it'd make a difference.
"So," Dan said, taking a sip of his Guinness, "what was that all about?"
"What was what?"
"You and the bartender. With the shots."
"Oh," I said, "That's just Scott. We work together." I glanced back at the bar and caught Scott's eye. He smiled. Was he watching us? "It's this, like tradition we have here. Staff drinks. We do it at the end of every shift. Since I'm not closing tonight, well..."
"I know all that," Dan huffed. "But it looked like he whispered something to you."
"Oh, that." I felt another pulse of heat in my pussy, remembering Scott's words. "Just an inside joke. It was nothing."
Dan scowled and took another sip of his drink. "I mean, it looked like it was something."
"Hey," I said, reaching across the table and laying a hand on his arm. "I've here with you, Dan. I'm leaving with you. Okay?" I said softly.
Dan smiled at that, his voice softening too. "Alright. Yeah."
He started talking again, mostly to himself. My thoughts drifted as I watched Scott cleaning glasses. There was something different about him since that time in the walk-in, I decided. Even in his black uniform shirt and tie, he seemed bigger now, somehow, more fit. His smile was a little wider, his eyes a little brighter. He even smelled better. And that
voice
. That was different, too. So deep, so resonant, so masculine, almost... commanding.
I shivered, hoping Dan wouldn't notice. He didn't. Scott's words played over and over in my mind, like I could still hear him.
You could always take me home instead
. So deep. I felt that... something run through me again. Was I just that drunk? Was that all it was?
You could always take me home instead
. So resonant. I glanced over at Scott again, and he caught me looking. I took a long drink. Fuck me, was he sexy now.
You could always take me home instead
. So masculine. I wondered what he looked like out of those clothes. What his dick looked like. In my limited experience with it, it had been a pretty nice one.
You could always take me home instead
. So commanding. His voice... it was like I wanted to do whatever he said. Like I
had
to do what he said.