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“Nope. I’m staying until
closing. I’ll pick you up around two tomorrow.” Pushing the
money closer, he sent her a predatory grin. “Plain Coke.”
Biting her lip, Tempest
got him his drink, sliding it across the smooth finish.
“Here you go; no charge.” Then she was gone, moving down the
counter to tend other patrons.
Maverick’s glass never
went empty but Tempest kept her distance. He could tell the
other workers wanted to ask her what he’d meant by his
blatant admission. But she shook off their questions and
stayed focused on her work.
It was after two-thirty
in the morning before the place was empty aside from
Tempest, Mili, and Maverick. Mili finished up sweeping the
floor while Tempest cleaned behind the bar and did some
inventory.
When Tempest had
announced it was closing, everyone had groaned but began
leaving. Last call had been made much earlier, so clean up
was relatively easy. Maverick had merely drunk his Coke and
watched people leave.
Only when two bouncers
approached him had he reacted. He’d cast a glance back
towards Tempest, who’d sent the men a nod of approval. So
the men hadn’t bothered him and had made certain everyone
else had left in an orderly fashion.
“You know you can’t make
this a habit,” Tempest said as she ran a dry rag over the
counter, making it gleam.
“Can’t make what a
habit?” Maverick asked, deliberately being obtuse.
“Staying here all night.
Don’t you have something more important to do?” Turning her
back on him, she ran a critical eye over the bottles before
her, taking stock.
Maverick allowed his eyes
to travel all over her body. She stood with most of her
weight on her left leg. Her stance allowed the leather of
her pants to form even tighter to her derrière. She had a
beautiful hourglass shape, one he longed to explore and get
to know on an up close and very personal level.
With a quick wink to Mili,
he vaulted effortlessly over the bar to land silently behind
her. “I don’t have anything more important to do.” He
allowed his eyes to move over her one more time, trying to
control the insistent jerking of his swollen cock inside his
pants. Maverick had to give her credit; she’d only jumped a
small bit.
“What are you doing?”
“Turn around,” he spoke
in a low, authoritative voice.
Slowly, Tempest complied
with his order. “What? I’m really tired and want to get in
bed.”
His eyes twinkled. “Is
that an offer?"
Copyright © Aliyah
Burke, 2009.
All Rights Reserved. |