Lacey had worked tending bar for three months now after her teaching job had fallen victim to the recession. At 23, she had obviously been hired for her heaving DD's that didn't need a push-up to sit pretty and her flat toned stomach that goosebumped from the bare mid-drift uniform every time the door to Howie's opened. Her bright red hair was tied into a high ponytail that bounced when she walked.
Weaving through the barstools, she couldn't help but take note of all the lonely bastards that showed up on Christmas Eve to avoid their families. She walked whiskey shots around like water glasses.
A chill ran down her spine, and knowing it wasn't the breeze from the door, she spun around. Deep brown eyes set in a rugged face caught her eye. He used two fingers to gesture her to come, and she found herself taking a step towards him.
Scanning him up and down, she noted everything from the hug of his jeans on his things, to the wide spread of his thick arms and the cocky smug grin he wore like an accessory.
"What can I get you?" Lacey asked, cocking her hip to her side, as she rested the tray on table.
His smile didn't shift as he just watched her, saying nothing.
Her green eyes broke from his first, as her confidence faded. Who was he anyway? Just some lonely ass guy at a bar on Christmas.
"Working on Christmas Eve, must have no one waiting for you," he said, and his voice ran up her spine like a hot caress in a back room and he hadn't even said anything sexy.
"Well," she began shifting from foot to foot. It had been almost three years since she ended things with the college tool who she'd caught cheating on her with her roommate. Obviously her flirting needed work. Still, she felt her cheeks go hot, was he insulting her? "At least I'm not alone at a bar."
He chuckled, but when she looked up, his eyes were chilled, calculating. "No? I don't see anyone waiting around to take you home little one and with a uniform like that, I doubt your parents are in the picture," he said, his eyes wandering to her skin tight jeans that squeezed her slim form tightly.
How dare her? "Asshole," she growled, turning away and storming off. Two hours later, and the guys still sat near the edge of the bar. She could feel his eyes on her, even as she began to close, and she'd be lying if she said those eyes hadn't forced her to go refresh herself in the restroom a few times that evening. Lacey had volunteered to close because Fred the bar owner actually had a wife and Carmen, the other waitress had a fiance.
"Last Call," she shouted to the few old men who still littered the bar. One by one, the paid their tabs and headed off in cabs or on foot into the cold night. Most too wasted to bother asking for their keys.
She kept glancing over to the still occupied corner as she cleared the till. What the hell is he still doing here, she wondered as she cleared the till. Catching herself glancing over at him for the billionth time. Looking back down at the till, she didn't notice him walk up to the bar until she heard the squealing of the bar stool as he dragged it out and took a seat.
She didn't look up, feeling his presence like a bitch in heat. She felt her body roll hot, her cheeks turn pink, and he stomach soak with sweat. Her lithe stomach was not the only thing dripping moisture, but her breath caught as he spoke.
"I think I owe you an apology for my earlier rudeness. It's nice to meet you Lacey, I'm Evan," he said, his voice ragged and charming.
"I think you're an ass," she heard herself say, fighting the urge to dive over the bar and into his lap. "We're closed; you can leave any time."
Evan smiled, and his eyes said he saw straight through her. Still the way his chest heaved sent more moisture to her already drenched nether regions.
He reached forwards and flicked two jingle bells attached to the napkin dispenser. "Ah, but you see, I have a package that really needs delivering, and something tells me you're available," he muttered and Lacey's jaw dropped along with the bills she'd been counting.
Evan smirked, and his eyes bore into hers. She felt, mesmerized. He was beautiful, that gruff jaw, and those big muscular arms that looked like they could throw her around and those thick thighs that suggested just how adept he was at plunging forwards. All those same things made him frightening as hell, but she was thinking with something other than her brain as three years of vibrators had her moving out from behind the bar.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked, coyly from under thick lashes.
He had her pressed up against the bar with his tongue plunged into her mouth before she heard the barstool clatter to the floor.
Propping her ass up on the bar, she had her legs wrapped around him and her chest pressed so hard against him it actually hurt as he dominated her mouth. She let him abuse her mouth for a moment, but gasped away when she heard the sound of her t-shirt tearing away.
"Hey," she yelled, but lost her voice as sunk his head down to her generous breasts. "Ohhhh..." she moaned as he folded down her bra and flicked the nipple ring on one of her quarter sized areola.
"These are certainly a nice touch," he muttered, snapping off her bra with practiced ease, and tracing his thumb along the outside of her breasts.
Using his thumbs he took his time flicking and tugging at the rings, before finally, using a hand, to reach downwards. "Tell me, did I have you this wound up all night, little one? Were you waiting for me?" he whispered, as he plunged a finger into her tight slick folds.
