“I thought you said you’re from Oklahoma?” I ask, needing the distraction and a chance to redirect the conversation.
“I am, but I moved to Houston...” she drifts off, probably realizing she doesn’t want to tell me—a virtual stranger—her life story.
The sad thing is she doesn’t have to finish telling me, I can take a good guess. She probably moved to Houston with her high school boyfriend, maybe college, and he turned out to be an asshole and beat the shit out of her. It’s not unheard of and she comes across as a girl who wouldn’t go running home. She seems like someone who is independent and adventurous. Maybe it’s the pink hair? Maybe it’s the tenacity?
After she completes the application, I take her driver’s license and social security card to my office and make a copy for my files. In the picture on her license, she looks considerably younger—blonde hair, freckles splattered on her nose, dark eyes full of life and naivety. I look at the date and see it was made a few years ago. She’s twenty-three. And like she said, she’s from Oklahoma, Honey Springs to be exact. Everything else on her application looks good, so I set the papers on my desk and head back out to the main part of the bar.
Jeremy, my new guy, and Avery, my new girl, are laughing about something when I get there and for some reason, it doesn’t sit well with me. I guess, now that I have a female working here, I’m going to have to make a new rule: no flirting or fraternizing.
“Ahem.” I clear my throat getting their attention and hand Avery her cards back. “I see you two have met.”
“Well, not officially,” Avery says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and grinning over at Jeremy.
“Jeremy,” I say, pointing to the kid. “Avery,” I say, pointing to her. “Now,” clapping my hands together, “let’s get to work. We’ll have customers in just a couple of hours, so there’s no time for goofing off and mingling. You’ll have to do that on your own time. When you’re at the bar, that’s my time. I’m paying you, so you’ll be here on time and do what I say. Is that understood?”
Avery nods her head and replies, “Yes.”
I’m glad she didn’t add a sir to the end of that. I know it’s polite and proper, but this is a bar and I don’t ask that of any of my other employees. “We’re all on a first name basis around here. Paulie, who you met earlier, is my second in command. If I’m not here, he’s who you’ll report to and feel free to ask him any questions. He knows this place better than I do.”
She nods again and I catch Jeremy staring at her. “Don’t you have something better to do?” I ask him, catching him off-guard and making him jump a little. One thing I’ve learned about the kid is he’s a nervous little fucker. It actually pisses me off most days, because if I had to guess, I’d say he’s the way he is because someone’s beat on him, kicked his ass more than once. Maybe he came from an abusive home?
Maybe he and Avery have a little in common?
Although, unlike Jeremy, Avery comes off as a fighter. Probably a fighter or a flier, and I’m guessing when things got bad between her and her boyfriend, she chose flight and that’s how she ended up here.
Jeremy scurries off back down the hallway and I hear Paulie putting him to work, so I continue showing Avery around the bar. She seems to pick it all up quickly, showing she knows her stuff. She wasn’t lying about being able to carry her weight. I would never admit that to her, but I’m relieved to know I didn’t make a complete mistake by hiring her. At least, not yet anyway.
“How much will I make?” Avery asks with a directness I appreciate.
“I’ll start you out at eight bucks an hour and you can keep your cash tips, under the table. All your other tips will be paid on your check.”
I watch as her wheels start turning—her big, dark eyes shift to the side and she pulls her lips between her teeth, thinking. “Okay,” she finally agrees with a nod, like she’s done the math and it works for her.
I can’t help but wonder if that’ll be enough for whatever she needs and I also wonder how long she’ll be around. “If this is a temporary place of employment for you, I’d like to know that upfront. It doesn’t mean I won’t hire you, for now, but I’ll keep my eye out for someone to take your place when—”
“I’m staying.” Her words come out strong and sure.
The defiance I’ve seen from her rears its head making me believe this girl can and will do whatever she sets her mind to.
Chapter 5
Avery
Strong hands grip my hips and push me up against a wall. The lights are dim but I can still see his dark eyes as they pierce into mine and then he kisses me—hard, passionately, strong.
My hands grip his strong arms, roaming up to his shoulders, and then finally find purchase in his thick, dark hair. He groans and the flame burns stronger, hotter—straight down into the pit of my stomach making me want—this, him.
“More,” I plead.
“Say please.”
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“I...I,” I stutter, falter on the words, on what I want. I know, but I can’t say it.
“Say it,” he demands, reading my mind, or maybe he’s just reading my body.
“I want...more.”
“More what, Avery?”
Hearing my name come out of his mouth so seductively practically has me coming, without touch or the friction I desire, and it gives me courage. “I need to feel you. Touch me, please.”
His hands slide around my backside, squeezing hard and making me moan out the pleasure I feel. “Like this?” he asks. “Or like this?”
When he uses his knee to spread my legs and pushes his hard length against my center, I see stars and the wanton pleas fall. “Yes, please. That. I want that.”
“So responsive, Avery.” The tickle of his beard as he kisses along my jaw and down to my neck sends shivers up my spine. It’s foreign, something I’ve never felt before and I love it. The added friction and sensation brings an awareness I didn’t know was missing from my life. I didn’t know he was missing from my life, until now.
Unbuttoning my jeans, he slips a finger under the edge of my panties...
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
My legs are tangled in the sheet when I wake and there’s a throbbing ache between my thighs.
What the hell was that?
Shaw. And me. And...
“No,” I groan, covering my head with the pillow. “Ugh.” He’s such an asshole. Why would I have a dream like that about him? And why was it so hot?
My pulse is still beating rapidly as I try to tame my breathing, but the need for a release isn’t going away. After a few moments of trying to get the vision of me and Shaw out of my mind and failing, I slip my hand under the waistband of my sleep shorts and give in to the need, mimicking the moves from my dream. I can’t help that when I close my eyes, I still see him.
It doesn’t take long to get myself off, which is no surprise, seeing as how I haven’t had sex in a long freaking time. Brant and I haven’t been intimate in forever. With him working and spending most evenings at dinner meetings, we haven’t had a chance. On the weekends, he was always tired or in a foul mood from the week. The fact that I woke up to a sex dream about my new boss is disconcerting, but I’m not hating the release.