Five years later . . .
Cole
I scan the crowded floor. My cock is already pumping at the thought of the action it’s going to get tonight. I lock on to the two giggly brunettes eyeing me like a piece of steak; they know I’m mignon, the finest steak you can get. You only have to look at me to know that. I’m stacked—real fucking stacked—I have the natural golden complexion women love and a smile to make them open their legs without me asking. Yep, finish it off with a cock men would die for, and I’m the epitome of every woman’s wet dream. Men too, I’m guessing.
I give the girls a wink, and they practically swoon. Mmm, too easy. I’ll come back to them if nothing else takes my fancy.
My eyes lock on to a girl behind the bar throwing her head back with a loud, rambunctious laugh that makes me chuckle. I’m used to girls that giggle or fake a laugh, not the loud belly laughing, not the natural shit this girl is letting out. Her laugh is infectious. I watch as she smacks the ass of one of the bartenders with a towel.
My eyes trail down her body. Fuck me sideways, she’s hot. She has curves, real fucking curves, not that fake shit I have to contend with. Her tits are heavy and straining against her camisole, her plump lips are glossy, and I already imagine that gloss on my cock. Over it, all around it. My dick leaks a little, hungry for the girl’s glossy lips. She has hips and an ass for me to grab hold of and fuck every way I like without worrying she’s going to snap if I fuck her too hard. Her blonde hair trails down her back in loose waves, almost touching that fine ass tucked tightly into jean shorts. Hell yeah, perfect length to wrap around my fist while I fuck her hard.
I push off the balcony railing and make my way over toward the bar, and as if by some magnetic force, her eyes draw up and meet mine. She licks those plump lips, and I can’t help but smirk when I consider my earlier analogy of me being a piece of steak, because fuck me, does she look like she wants to devour me.
“Hello, beautiful.”
She exhales in annoyance at my words, her shoulders slacken, and she rolls her eyes with attitude. What the fuck?
Miss Attitude stands before me with her arms crossed over her chest, pushing those banging beauties up higher and forcing my cock to throb harder. She narrows her blue eyes at me, as though she knows my cock wants to spurt on her tits, her lips, and—fuck me—that gorgeous pissed-off face too.
“Are you even listening to me?”
I jolt at her words. Am I? I’m currently pussytized by her.
“Huh?”
“I said. What. Would. You. Like. To. Drink?” She punctuates each word as though I’m dumb.
I drag my tongue slowly over my bottom lip; her eyes latch on to the piercing, and I swear to fucking St. Chris on the cross, her nipples pucker. Game-fucking-on, beauty.
“I’ll have a Balls Deep.” I smirk as her eyes widen at my response before her face contorts in disgust. She opens her mouth, no doubt to spiel a load of shit at me, but I shake my head and point to the sign on the counter. The one that reads Cocktail of the day: Balls Deep.
“You’re a real joker, aren’t you?”
My little beauty starts gathering cocktail shit together, and her tits and ass swing as she shakes the cocktail thing.
“I try.” I shrug cockily.
“Well, Casanova, if you’re wanting to get balls deep, those two little leggy brunettes over there are interested.” She turns and points over my shoulder, and I glance at where she’s pointing. Sure enough, the two brunettes from earlier give me an eager wave. I fake a smile and turn back toward my little beauty.
“Not interested.”
She places the drink down in front of me. “That’ll be ten dollars.”
“For a Balls Deep? That’s cheap, beauty.” I throw a twenty on the counter. “Keep the change for a tip.”
She goes over to the till, swaps the money over, and stuffs the change into the tip jar. “Thank you,” she throws over her shoulder as I watch her ass sway as she walks toward the next customer.
I spend the next four drinks watching her flirt up a fucking storm with asshole after asshole, but me? She narrows her eyes at me like she despises me. My jaw tics in annoyance. Never in my fucking life have I had to try so hard for attention. I cast another look over my shoulder, and the two brunettes wave toward me again like a pair of fucking puppets. They’re eagerly waiting for me, guaranteed balls deep in both of them. I look back toward my beauty to find her staring at me. Interesting. Maybe she’s not as unaffected after all.
“You see something you like?” I smirk at her knowingly.
She leans closer, and I actually think she’s going to kiss me; I can virtually taste that gum she chewed only ten minutes ago. Her soft lips brush my cheek, and if I were to turn just slightly—
“Actually, I do.” She snatches the twenty out of my hand and marches off toward the till. “Although, I prefer fifties, for future reference.” She smiles back at me, and I wanna spank that sassy ass so bad. I grin into my drink, imagining all the positions we could try that in.
