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Authors: N. Kuhn

Bar Tricks

BOOK: Bar Tricks
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Bar Tricks

By

N. Kuhn

 

 

Published by Nevermore Press

Cincinnati, OH 45224. 2013

Text Copyright © 2013
N. Kuhn

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Copyright © 2013 Nevermore Press

All rights reserved

Published by

Nevermore Press.

Cincinnati, OH 45224

Edited by: Dawn White

For Nevermore Press

Cover by: Brandy Dull

Formatting by: Brandy Dull

 

I’d like to thank my fans.

Those who read and loved Parlor Tricks, those who are new to my books, and really all of those who just love reading.
Bar Tricks is more stories and more sex than Parlor Tricks. But then again, anytime alcohol is involved things get sexier and dirtier! I hope you all enjoy.

This one’s for you.
 

Bar Jovi

Lugging the two cases of Labatt Blue up the stairs, I shudder. The basement here at Bar Jovi is creepy. I always avoid it if I can. It’s dark, low ceiling and supposedly haunted. Mo
st times at night I would send Tommy the bouncer down for me. But he doesn’t start until seven and of course Kate didn’t stock at the end of her shift last night. She’s not going to last long around here. None of these little college girls do. They think bartending will land them a rich man if they dress slutty enough. When they figure out the Bon Jovi themed bar caters to poor college kids, drunk frat boys and skeezy old guys, they bolt faster than they can say “I quit”. I’ve been here four years now, and Pauly, the owner still treats me like a new girl. That’s probably because I’m the only girl here that won’t sleep with him, or because he’s just a chauvinist pig. It’s not that he’s ugly, if you like oily Italian hairy men. He has a lot of muscles, a baby face, and an affliction for Bon Jovi and bad eighties music. But I don’t like being a number. I want to be someone special and with Pauly, everything and everyone is a number.

 

Not that this job allows me to meet anyone special, but a girl can hope. It’s all regulars and most of them call me Chas instead of Chasity. I’m one of the guys. I do shots with them, drink behind the bar and talk sports. I can't help it. Growing up with three brothers and their friends, I ended up with more guy friends than girls. If I did have a girlfriend she ended up just using me to get to one of my brothers. Plus, as the baby it was hard to date. Over protective doesn't even begin to describe my family. That's probably why I'm the only twenty five year old virgin I know. My brothers intimidated more men then I could possibly meet. I barely even go out anymore. It’s just my luck that I hook up with a guy, and one of my brothers or their friends show up. It’s happened more than once. So now, I just work, go home and read, and that’s about it.

 

Dropping the cases of beer on the floor, I crouch down to fill the coolers.

"Nice, pink thong."

The deep voice that I could pick out blindfolded belongs to Bryan. He is the only customer here I would ever consider being with. He's hot, shaggy blonde hair, green eyes and has a sexy husky voice. He comes in with friends, drinks soda all night, but has fun dancing and flirting. Too bad he's a player. Every night I watch him leave with some drunk college chick or groups of them. That’s a huge turn off to me. Why guys think its great is beyond me.

“Thanks Bry,” I feel my cheeks blush,
“You’re here early. Want a Coke?”

I try to covertly pull my pants up.
His smile widens and it sends a shiver through my body. Involuntarily I’m trapped by those alluring eyes, and I feel myself getting wet. Why the hell is this guy so hot to me? Sure he has great hair that I can picture myself pulling in the throes of passion. Sure, those green eyes sparkle like emeralds every time he smiles, and sure that laugh is so deep and hot, that just the sound of his voice makes my panties wet. But I have to continually remind myself that he’s a player. Damn it Chas. Even trying to talk myself out of it, my mind betrays me into thinking about him more.

“No thanks, it’s my night off, so I’ll take one of those Blues you have there.”

Settling himself onto the stool, I bend down, popping the cap off a bottle. Sliding it in front of him, I must have a look of disbelief on my face.
“What? I’m not a complete goody two shoes. I do drink Chasity.”

Did I mention he’s the only one who calls me by my full name around here? Yea, and the way it sounds coming from his mouth, is like satiny softness to my ears.
He makes me feel like I’m more than one of the guys. No wonder women practically beg him to take them home.

 

 

“Well then, it may make picking up some drunk chick that much easier for you. Not that you’re picky when you’re drinking soda, but you being drunk, I’m sure you’ll find the perfect conquest for tonight.
That ones on the house, since I’m not even open yet.”

He laughs again, shaking his head, and I turn my back to him.

“Is that what you really think of me? That I pick up all these chicks and take them home with me? Wow, I must be like, a sex God or something in your eyes.”

His laughter reverberates through me, and I feel my skin go all goose bumpy.
Refusing to turn around and let him see how jealous I feel, I just continue stocking the cooler. Why the hell am I even jealous? It’s not like he would ever consider me, and once again, I have to remind myself that it’s ok, because I don’t want a player. Maybe I can beat the thought into my head.

“Chasity,” he shouts, pulling me from my
self-berating inner dialogue. I jump, and my head bounces off the cooler door. Rubbing the bump with my hand, I turn, looking at him, pain covering my face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, is your head okay?”

The concern in his voice is sexy too. What the hell is wrong with me?

“No, it’s not okay, but maybe that just knocked some sense into me. What do you need?”

“Nothing, you just, were in your own zone, I don’t think you heard what I was saying.”

“I’m trying to work Bry, what’s up? What were you saying?”

It was unintentional, coming off so nasty sounding to him. My head throbs and I feel a bump forming. I can’t tell if it’s hurt, boredom or just that he doesn’t care, but something registers in his eyes, making them darker and for an instant, I’m worried I just pissed him off.
 

“Look, Bry, I’m sorry, really I am. Kate didn’t stock a single cooler
last night, and now I have to do it before opening and then again when I close. Give me a bit, and then we can talk, okay?”
“Let me help you, I can carry up the cases. I know where they are.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I motion to the list I had sitting on the bar.

“Knock yourself out.”

 

 

Watching him walk away, I can’t help but notice the way the denim jeans he has on hug every curve of his masculine hips, and shows off that amazing ass. I wish I could just wrap my legs around those hips and squeeze that ass all night. What the hell. For a virgin, I sure do have a dirty mind. But when it comes to Bryan, I always feel
dangerous, dirty for wanting the player. Dumb too, for thinking about him in ways that I have no experience with outside of books. What would he want with little old me, when he can have a hot chick, ready to jump into his pants, who actually knows what she’s doing? Turning back to my task at hand, I try to focus on putting the bottles in the cooler. Hearing him walk up behind me, I turn my head and catch the way his biceps flex as he carries the cases of beer. Yes, multiple cases at once where as I have to do them one at a time. I sigh to myself. The material of his black t-shirt hugs his body as if painted on and the anchor tattoo on his forearm strains as the muscles tighten. Images of me running my hands and tongue over those muscles and more flash through my mind.

“You ok Chasity?”

His warm honey thick voice tugs at my consciousness, pulling me from my daydreams. Slowly I look up and realize that my hand is midair between the cooler and case, with beers between my fingers, staring at him. His smile grows, and he gets a sly twinkle in his eyes and it’s absolutely soaking my panties. Damn it, why didn’t I just go commando like normal? Maybe I should just get over myself and take from him what I want. He at least knows what he’s doing. Maybe my first time wouldn’t be so lame then.

 

 


Thanks,” I say as he shrugs nonchalantly.

Bending over next to me, he begins emptying the cases into the coolers. Working side by side silently, we have all the coolers filled in ten minutes. In about
twenty more, customers will slowly begin drifting in, the start of what should be a busy night tonight. With the concert down the street, I know we’ll get a good crowd before and after the show. Thankfully Tommy will be in later to help out if I need him. When he’s not at the door, he jumps behind the bar, letting one of the other security guards check ids. Stacking the empty beer cases, I pile them by the door to the kitchen. As the boxes of empties fill, I’ll be needing these ones anyways. It’s much easier to keep them handy. Bryan returns to his seat on the opposite side of the bar, smiling at me as he brings his beer bottle up to his lips. For some reason, I can’t pull my eyes away. The way they rest on top of the bottle and his tongue darts out, catching a stray drop of the amber liquid. As I hear him laugh, I realize I’ve was licking my own lips.

“You ok Chasity?”

“Fuck me. Please.”

Oh God, what did I just say? No, no, no, no, no!  Feeling my face flame with embarrassment, I turn around, counting out the money that goes into my drawer. Expecting to hear him double over with
laughter, I close my eyes, willing the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Not hearing anything, I turn, looking over my shoulder at him. There’s a fierceness in the look he gives me. Something predatory and sexy at the same time. My legs shake, my knees barely holding me up.

“Ju-just, forget it. Sorry. I’m just out of it. Haven’t slept much, and Kate screwed with me today. Sorry.”

Turning back to count the money, I don’t even hear him come around the side of the bar. His strong muscular arms circle me, pinning me against the counter and the register. The bills fall from my hands. I can feel his hard body pressed against my back, his cock already straining in his pants. Pressing his hips into my ass, shivers run through my body.

 

“Right here? Or do you want to go in back?” he whispers in my ear.

A sigh that sounds more like a moan escapes from my lips. Licking them again, I still taste some of the cherry lip gloss I had on, but if I keep this up, they will be dryer than the desert pretty soon.
The things this man can make me think. Oh my god.

“I was joking,” I stutter
, trying to save some of my dignity.
“No you weren’t. You want me as much as I want you. And I know damn well, that you’re all I’ve wanted for a long, long time Chasity. Why do you think I sit here all night, drinking soda after soda? Not for the atmosphere. It’s for you. You’ve been stuck in my head since the first time I ever stepped foot into this place. The music sucks. There’s never anyone cool here. But, it has you.”

Finding my courage, I turn, pushing him off of me. That was the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I’m fuming now
.

“Yea right, what a fucked up way you have of showing that! You take home blonde bimbos all night, groups of them, not just one! You’re the biggest player I’ve ever seen in this place. Don’t give me that line bullshit. I can’t believe you think I would fall for something that sleazy.”

He laughs again, this time almost losing his footing as he turns to find something to lean on.

“Oh my god Chasity. You think I take those girls home with me?”

“Or you go to their place. What business is it of mine?”

I stoop down, picking up the money I dropped on the floor, depositing it into the register. Slamming it closed, I turn to push him out from behind the bar. The second my hands hit his chest, I feel like I’ve leaned on a rock wall. The hard lines of him feel ridged, and I don’t even realize I’m stroking his chest, until his large hand wraps around my fingers, holding them in place
.

“Chasity. I work for Designated Drivers Unlimited. We get paid to sit in bars all night, hand out our cards and
drive drunk people home safely. All those girls, and guys, yes guys too, have been work. I’ve made sure they get home safe and you don’t get in trouble for getting them wasted and letting them drive. I’m supposed to go around to more than one bar a night. But I can’t make myself leave here. Watching you, waiting for you to give me the time of day, you drive me crazy.”

 

Now I just feel like the biggest idiot on the face of the earth. Why hasn’t the floor opened up and swallowed me whole yet? I’m such a fool. That would explain the men I see him with too, and the soda. Heat spreads from my hand shooting up my arm. He lets go of me and I feel cold instantly.

“I came in here tonight, on my night off, because I finally thought I would have enough courage to ask you out.”

He leans in towards me, his hands roaming down my body. I shudder and my breath hitches
.

“You don’t want to go out with me, trust me. I’m a waste of time.”
His hand finds the warm spot between my legs.

“You’re so wet already Chasity. That’s for me, isn’t it?”

“Like I said, I’m a waste of your time. You can have any of those hot girls you want. You don’t need me.”

“Hey, don’t put your
self down like that,” his voice gets louder.

He grabs my shoulders, holding me away from him.


I think you’re amazing. You like sports, you don’t take shit from anyone, and you tell jokes like my uncle used too, which yes, that’s a compliment. I know you wish you could be a sports journalist and that you’re most likely smarter than me. I love that you can write and turn it into something you love. You’re smart, and did I forget to mention, beautiful? I also love that I know all of this about you.”

BOOK: Bar Tricks
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