The First Night (2 page)

Read The First Night Online

Authors: Sidda Lee Tate

BOOK: The First Night
11.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Sure thing,” he said as his gaze trailed from her eyes to her neck to her breasts, and Kayla wasn’t certain if he meant ‘sure thing, coming right up’ or ‘sure thing, this girl is out tonight for the sole purpose of getting pounded’. But she liked the way he couldn’t take his eyes off her tits. “What’s your name?” he asked, setting the shots in front of her.

Before the liquid was able to settle, she turned one up and found herself coughing as it burned her throat.

“Kayla,” she answered, leaning in so she wouldn’t have to shout to be heard over the music.

“Virgin?” he asked and placed her beer in front of her. His hands looked strong. Thick fingers, just the right amount of vein puffing up under his tan skin.

“Excuse me?” she asked, and turned the bottle up and washed out the sting of tequila.

“Did I just witness your first time shooting tequila?”

“No,” she lied. “Why would you ask that?”

“Here…” He poured two more shots then placed a couple of lime wedges on a napkin in front of her, along with a shaker of salt. “Try it like this.”

Kayla followed his every move as he licked the skin between his index finger and thumb, doused it with salt, licked it off, turned up the mini glass, and then bit into the lime.

She smiled and took the other shot exactly the way he showed her. A good kind of burn filled her chest as the liquid made its way to her stomach.

“Better, no?” Friendly laughter spilled over his lips. “Is this your first time here?”

“Yes, it’s her first time here,” Sharon interrupted and grabbed Kayla’s arm, her gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. “C’mon, grab your beer and let’s get to the table.”

Kayla snickered inside at Sharon’s impatience and picked up the cool glass bottle. “Hang on a minute, Sharon. I still have to pay him.”

“Not tonight you don’t,” the bartender said. His lips turned up and Kayla couldn’t help but stare at his deep, dark eyes as she tried to place where she’d seen them before.

“Thanks,” she replied, and followed Sharon through the crowd to their table.

A man and a woman Kayla didn’t know sat at a small, round table in a dimly lit area two rows from the dance floor. Two empty chairs waited for her and Sharon.

Kayla leaned into Sharon’s ear. “Who are they? I don’t know them from work.” Her head began to feel the buzz from the tequila. She took another drink of beer to help it along. She was going to have fun no matter what.

“Some friends of mine. They’re good people. Don’t worry.” Sharon sat down and lit another cigarette.

The band announced a fifteen minute break and left the stage, which made it easier for conversation.

“Vic and Missy, meet Kayla. She’s a friend of mine from work,” Sharon said. “She also goes to college.”

“I’m majoring in education. Hopefully within the next year I’ll be teaching history.” Kayla sat in the last empty chair which put her between Sharon and Vic. “Good to meet you.”

Vic stared at her intensely, but worried about Missy’s reaction, Kayla pretended not to notice. Her attention was continuously drawn to the man behind the bar. The fact that she recognized him but was unable to pinpoint from where was driving her crazy.

By the time the band’s break was over and they took the stage again Kayla had warmed up to the couple at the table. The tequila helped, and she wanted more of it. She finished her beer. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “I need another shot.”

“Grab me one too,” Sharon shouted, taking the hands of the couple and dragging them out to the dance floor.

Kayla watched them dance for a minute and was surprised at what she saw. Sharon was wedged in between the two of them as they ground into her. Vic rubbed the mound in his pants against Sharon’s ass as his hands traveled across her breasts while Missy leaned in, licking her neck. All three of them moved simultaneously with the beat of the music.

* * * *

Gannon knew the instant he saw her walk into the room that he would be worthless behind the bar for the rest of the night. Taking her drink order, he had been captivated by the sound of her voice, enchanted by her bright, blue eyes, and when she’d walked away from him in those tight jeans and silver high heels all he could think about was getting his palms on each of those ass cheeks.

He knew at once who she was, but asked her name just to make sure. In high school, she had been one year ahead of him. Kayla Dobbs, the one girl he’d always wanted. The one girl he’d always been afraid to pursue. To him, she was untouchable. It had been nine years since she’d graduated from high school, nine years since he’d laid eyes on her, and nine years of him trying to wash her out of his head.

He was certain she didn’t recognize him. Hell, he was sometimes unrecognizable to himself. Nine years ago he’d been shy and scrawny, his skin pale and pasty, his face splotched with teenage acne, and his hair parted and combed to the side. His senior year of high school, miraculously, his face cleared. His freshman year of college, Gannon’s roommate encouraged him to lift weights and workout—which became a near addiction. By his sophomore year of college, Gannon discovered hair product, some awesome clothing stores, and as much pussy as he wanted. For a few years, he’d felt like a rock star.

One morning, for what seemed like the ten-thousandth time, he awoke feeling empty and alone despite the blonde bombshell lying naked next to him. They had been seeing each other for a few months, longer than he’d been with any of the girls he had fucked. Any other time, if he’d bothered staying, he would have awoken the girl by gently rolling her nipple between his forefinger and thumb, lightly flicking the other with his tongue before sliding back into her, pounding until both of them came. Instead, he rolled out of bed, quickly getting dressed. He watched her sleep for a few minutes, knowing it was the last time he would see her.
She’s not Kayla
, he’d thought.
None of them are.

He snuck away and went back to his apartment. That was the day he realized he had to go home, where he’d grown up, where she’d grown up. The town she would always go back to and maybe, just maybe he would increase his chances of seeing her again. And there she was. Four months to the day since he’d moved back.

Unable to keep his eyes from her for more than a second or two, he mechanically took and filled drink orders. And when she moved from the table and began walking toward the bar, his heartbeat sped up.

She paused, watching the dance floor. The way she nibbled on her bottom lip made his cock throb. She looked up, directly at him as if she’d sensed his staring, and smiled.

* * * *

Music blared from the band, pounding in Kayla’s ears and masking the nervous hammering in her chest. She tossed the apprehension from her head. The bartender was watching her again, and she was glad. After all, it had been a long time since anyone held her interest and he…well, he seemed to be matching her awareness. She was determined to talk to him, and with liquid courage having her back, she was in rare form. Feeling tenacious and certain, she licked her lips to make them shine and walked toward the faintly familiar man.

The closer she got to the bar, the more the courage escaped her. Never in her life had she approached a man she was attracted to. “Just go to the bar and order a drink,” she said quietly to herself. “He won’t bite.”

Kayla grinned, took a deep breath, and settled on a bar stool. She didn’t have to wait. The bartender met her as she sat. His gaze held hers for a second longer than she was comfortable with, and her breath hitched in her throat. She moved her stare to the shelves of bottles behind him. Without her asking, he placed a shot of tequila in front of her. She slowly traced the rim with her index finger, trying to think of something clever to say when he sat another shot on the worn mahogany bar top. “Thanks, but I can’t handle two more. I’d like to be able to walk out of here.”

He held the extra glass up to her eye level, leaning toward her, his eyes burning into hers. “This one is for me. I’d like you to be able to walk out of here too. Let’s have a toast.”

People around the bar repeatedly shouted out their orders, but the bartender didn’t seem to hear them, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge them. Two other guys serving drinks took up the slack.

Kayla picked up the small glass of liquid meant for her and slowly batted her lashes. “A toast to what, exactly?”

She couldn’t help but notice the black scribe tattoo on the inside of his upper arm and wondered what it said, but didn’t allow her eyes to dwell as they followed his arm to his shoulder and to his neck. She imagined her tongue trailing across his skin and quickly flushed, blaming her erotic dream for her bold thought.

He smiled, and his eyes sparkled as he clinked his glass to hers. “To four-inch, platinum heels and jeans that make an ass like yours trigger heart attacks for all that may lay their eyes upon it.”

Kayla laughed out loud. He had to be joking, how cheesy. “Well, I wouldn’t say it has such an extreme effect on everyone. Does a line like that work on every female?” She licked her hand where he’d showed her earlier and grabbed the salt shaker.

He leaned in closer, inches from her, his gaze intense. “I couldn’t be more serious. I’ve always—”

“Gannon!” one of the other bartenders interrupted. “We’ve got a fight!”

His eyes narrowed, and irritation spread across his face. He glanced at the anxious announcer behind him and back to Kayla. “Give me a few minutes?”

She watched him jump across the bar and disappear into the crowd. Shivers went across her skin as she noticed the muscles in his arms flex when he lifted himself over the counter. Forgetting about the salt, she tossed the shot back and helped herself to the one he’d left on the bar. As an afterthought, she bit into the lime.
His name is Gannon
, she thought, racking her brain to figure out why it seemed they’d met before. Why he looked even more familiar now that she’d had a chance to soak him in.

Ten minutes later, the alcohol kicked in and with no sign of Gannon, Kayla wandered toward the dance floor in search of Sharon. The place had become packed, and she felt herself bounce from shoulder to shoulder until she was at the table where her friend sat.

“Oh, girl! You are drunk,” Sharon said, leaning in close to be heard over the music. She scooted an empty chair away from the table. “Have a seat.”

Kayla plopped down as gracefully as the alcohol allowed. Tipping, she fell into Vic’s chest, catching herself with her hands. Through his crisp cotton shirt, she felt his heartbeat rise.

“She’s gotten frisky,” he announced, placing a hand on her neck. His thumb grazed the skin just below her ear, and her shoulders twitched. “Are you ready to dance yet?” he asked, raising Kayla up from his chest by her shoulders.

Kayla shrugged, thinking
what the hell, why not? I’m at a bar, the band is great, and I’m feeling pretty damn good.
“Sure,” she replied, and met Missy’s eyes. “You don’t mind?”

“Go on, have fun. I’ll be out there as soon as I finish my smoke,” Missy said, and flicked her ashes. She took a sip from her wine glass, her eyes never leaving Kayla.

Vic’s lips turned up, showing a mouthful of bright, white teeth as he stood and took Kayla’s hand.

At first the dancing was fun. Kayla moved about in sync with the beat, laughing, playfully touching Vic’s arms and chest and shoulders, knowing it meant nothing because he was there with Missy. But when Vic came from behind and pulled her in, pressing his swollen bulge against her lower back, grinding as he slid his hand under her shirt, Kayla was shocked at the tingling sensation between her thighs. But she liked it, and for an instant, she pictured her body bent over a table and Vic taking her from behind. She glanced at Missy who smiled and winked at her. Vic’s arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her in. Kayla’s neck flopped back and her head rested on his shoulder. His mouth found her neck. Together their bodies shifted with the music. His hand rubbed between her legs, over her jeans, and she didn’t want it to stop.
This is wrong. I’m drunk…way more drunk than I need to be.

Kayla stepped away from him. Aware her walk was more of a stagger, she used the backs of chairs for stability as she found the table and her seat.

“You’re not ready to go…are you?” Sharon asked, breathlessly.

Kayla’s eyes focused to see Sharon sitting on some man’s lap, his hand clearly slipped up her short skirt.
What the hell? Huh. Maybe they all fuck each other. This is too much. You are slobbery-ass drunk. Where’s the bartender? Jeez, what is his name?

“Did you enjoy yourself out there?” Missy laughed but her eyes were serious and seductive. Kayla felt herself become caught in them for a second until she noticed a few strands of Missy’s blazing—obviously dyed—red hair had fallen over her face, and in her drunken state Kayla leaned over to push them out of the way. As she did, the room began to spin and the only thing going through her head was
please don’t pass out.
And then she did.

* * * *

“What the fuck, Sharon?” Gannon asked when he walked up to the table where Kayla was passed out. The assholes had at least been considerate enough to prop her arm under her head.

“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me! She passed out. You’re the one who kept giving her shots! I’ll take care of it,” Sharon said, despite her shallow breaths. She squirmed on the man’s lap, and Gannon noticed the table was not screening them as much as they may have thought. The man’s hand was up her skirt.

“She’s not going with you.” Gannon glanced around the four of them. Not one did he trust to get Kayla home safely. Sharon frequented the bar often, always taking home someone new, and from what he had witnessed, she didn’t care if it was a man or a woman…or even a couple.

“Well, I’m not letting her drive.” Sharon dangled a set of keys on her finger, speaking in short gasps, and Gannon refused to question what was going on under the table. “These are hers. I got them after her first shot of tequila. I’ll get her home.”

“Hell no!” Gannon said, trying his best not to sound as pissed off as he actually was. “I’ve. Got. This.” He snatched the keys from Sharon’s finger. His face flushed with anger. There was no way, under any circumstance, he would allow any of them to take her home, if taking her home was actually their plan. He cringed at the thought of Kayla being caught up in one of their sexcapades.

Other books

Froelich's Ladder by Jamie Duclos-Yourdon
Listen to This by Alex Ross
Stay With Me by Garret Freymann-Weyr
Journey of the Heart by Marjorie Farrell