Not Having a Bar of It

*Disclaimer - this is an original work of fiction, featuring adult characters *

Jennifer saw him across the half-crowded bar, staring at her. At her ass, to be exact - typical, pervy male behaviour, even if he did appear tall, dark, and handsome. In the low glow of the bar's flickering neons, most of the patrons looked dark and handsome from a distance, so Jennifer slid further into her usual corner booth and did her best not to look back in his direction.

The next week, Jennifer saw him again. This time he was standing with a shorter bald man and a small gaggle of beautiful blondes in tight shimmery dresses, all seemingly charmed by some hilarious story of his. "Of course, that's his type", the cynical voice in her head piped up, over a deep gulp of her vodka lime soda. Still, Jennifer couldn't help but steal another glance in his direction, just in time to see him look up from his Barbies and into her eyes. She froze in the headlights of his icey-grey gaze as he smirked at her. Even as he let out an easy laugh over a sly comment from his short friend, he didn't look away, but slid his stare slowly down her body. An unreadable arch of the eyebrow when he reached her waist jolted Jennifer from her trance. She rummaged frantically in her purse for her phone just to have something else to look at, suddenly burning hot under her trousers and vest.

Jennifer couldn't quite explain why she went back the next week. It certainly wasn't because she wanted to see him again - heavens, no. She had only moved to the city a month earlier and had promised herself she was going to put herself out there. New job, new place, new Jenn. Despite feeling as socially timid as she always had on the inside, she'd promised herself that every Thursday after work she would go to the public bar across the road from her apartment and have two drinks. The bar seemed casual enough, if not a little busy during Happy Hour, and two drinks were enough to get her relaxed enough that she could enjoy herself. The buzz she got and the confidence she was building were worth the awkwardness and the cost, even if her funds were hovering dangerously low after the move. Who knows, one day soon she may even feel ballsy enough to approach someone. Not him, though. Definitely not him.

She shifted in her booth in front of the last half of drink number two, adjusting her pencil skirt. She tried not to drink it too fast, tried not to fidget with her long, black waves (already voluminous enough, thanks to the sudden spring humidity)... tried not to search the room for those piercing grey eyes. She knew he was there, she'd seen him walk past when she was waiting at the bar, but he hadn't so much as turned in her direction, and now he was nowhere to be seen. Jennifer swirled the ice around in her glass and spared a thought for her only friend in the whole town, the well-worn blue bunny vibrator nestled conveniently in her top drawer. He'd certainly be getting a hop tonight, provided she could manage to unstick her tight grey skirt from her thighs.

A shadow flickering across her glass made her look up.

Unbelievable! There he was, sliding nonchalantly into her booth, not even bothering to address her. He didn't even look at her, just rested his near-empty glass on the small table between them with a deep, low, sigh. The fucking audacity...

Jennifer glared at him, and when he failed to look up at her, she cleared her throat, ready to give him a piece of her mind. At that moment, though, those pale eyes locked onto hers, and that pissed-off, lonely, feminist mind went blank. His gaze narrowed as her mouth hung open, full, rosy lips searching for something witty to say and finding nothing. He leaned in, hands clasping in front of him, inches from the open front of her silk blouse.

"E-excuse me!" she managed.

He exhaled sharply, with a little shake of his head. It could have been a laugh, she wasn't sure - she was distracted by his perfect white teeth biting down on the corner of his bottom lip. His eyes stayed narrow as he spoke.

"You look," he began, low voice full of smoke, and growl, and sex, "like you might be a risk taker."

Jennifer swallowed heavily. Her voice came out steadier than she expected, given the rapid thrum of her nervous heart. "I think you have me confused with someone else."

He laughed out loud this time. "Maybe." One arm slid under the table, reaching perversely between their legs. For a brief second, Jennifer thought her was going to try to touch her, but mercifully, his hand reappeared. His index and middle fingers held a small stack of bills, at least one of which was clear a hundred. He placed the cash on the table in front of her, never looking away from her face. "Maybe not."

Jennifer stared down at the bounty, then back up at him, still infuriatingly speechless.

"I would like to make a wager with you. A small game, if you will." He tilted his head, assessing her like a wolf with its prey. "I'm supposed to meet my friend Billy here at 7:00. I think you've seen Billy before," his eyebrows raised in dark amusement. "The problem is, Billy's usually late. And I just can't stand to drink by myself anymore."

"What do you want?" Jennifer gulped.

His face broke into a vicious smile. "I want to make you cum."

Jennifer blinked, aghast. "Wh- what do you-"

"I want to make you cum," he repeated, "and if I can't make you cum by the time Billy decides to show up... you can keep that." His eyes finally left her, flicking down to the pile of bills.

Jennifer inhaled sharply, gathering all the wits she could scramble. "No," she said, her voice firm - but small. Who the fuck was this guy?

He leaned forward even further, stage whispering across the tiny space. "Are you sure?"

A sad image of the blue rabbit in her nightstand flashed through her mind. "Y-yes."

He leaned right back and flicked his wrist in front of them, an expensive watch face emerging from his shirt sleeve. "It's 6:56."

Just breathe, Jennifer thought to herself. She got through one raggedy breath, then another. He was still relaxed, drinking her in while he tipped the last of the light brown liquor back and wiped his gorgeous mouth with a large, well-manicured hand. No, Jennifer thought again, but she couldn't figure out how to say it aloud.

"Tell you what," he broke the tension, voice suddenly a note lighter. "You think it over, while I go to the bar." He stood up and slid the top note off the pile, revealing another hundred underneath. "I hope the queue's not too long," he winked dangerously.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Jennifer breathed once her assailant was safely out of earshot. The heat between her thighs had only gotten worse, keeping her glued firmly to her seat instead of getting up and walking out like any sensible girl would have done. "Oh god, oh god, oh god." Her hands unclenched from her lap and moved over the money sitting in front of her. Tentatively, with the tip of her index finger, she slid the notes askew to count nine crisp, identical bills. The edges of Jenn's vision went foggy as she entertained for the briefest of moments the chance to earn a month's rent in one sitting, and the chance of an encounter with the sexy local misogynist.

All too soon, the clink of a fresh glass in front of her signalled his return. She automatically sipped the vodka lime soda, grateful for a distraction and some liquid courage as he slid further in next to her. The fabric of his suit trousers brushed against her bare knee as he sat. He tilted his head again, inquisitively this time.

"Why?" Jennifer began, as the back of his knuckles brushed lazily against the outside of her skirt. She glared at him, hoping to mask the audible hitch of her breath.

The fiend chuckled at her expression. "I'll answer your questions, gorgeous, but if you're going to play the game, the clock's started. That means I get to play, too."

"I'm not going to play your game" she shot back.

Unperturbed, his fingers continued to graze along her leg, drawing softly from mid-thigh to lower hem, and back again. "The simple answer to your question," he breathed, forcing her to ignore a sudden shiver in her spine, "is because I'm absolutely fucking desperate to know how wet you're going to get for me, before I even put my fingers inside you. And," he leaned even closer to her ear, "because I can afford it."

----- to be continued..? -----