But I didn’t have time for games.
I wanted to get this girl in the sack, not play fraternity games with her at a dive bar.
I picked up my first tequila shot and said, “My name’s not really Brad.”
She rolled her eyes and huffed. “No shit. Truth. Drink up, Brad.”
The game ended quickly because we wanted it to.
Five minutes later, the shot glasses were drained, and we were both drunk.
“So, what next?” I asked, wiping my mouth on a napkin. “More party games or can we just cut the shit and get the fuck out of here?”
She took a long sip of wine, eyeing me over the glass, then set the glass on the bar and grabbed my tie, which probably cost more than her entire outfit. She pulled my head down to growl in my ear.
“If you hope to fuck me before the night is over, Brad the banker, you’re gonna have to get a lot more interesting or get me a whole lot drunker.”
I smiled. Bingo. “I think I can do both,” I said.
She cocked an eyebrow and pursed her lips.
“And you’re gonna have to dance with me. Do you dance, Brad the banker? Or do you just like to stand around and watch other people having fun?”
I pulled back with a devious smile on my face, glad she had broken the ice.
Broken the ice?
Hell, she had pulverized that shit like a Waring blender.
I shot back the bourbon and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, then gestured toward the crowded dance floor.
“Alright then, Molly the paralegal. Let’s get this fucking party started!”
Chapter 2: Katie O’Hara
I don’t know why I gave him a fake name. I don’t know what made me decide to act as slutty as I did. And I really don’t know what possessed me to grab onto his tie and say what I did. I mean, anyone who knew me would have been shocked. I know I was. And so was Monique, my coworker and roommate, who pulled her tongue out of her old boyfriend’s ear long enough to witness the whole thing. Even though she had been rubbing Andy’s cock through his pants under the bar, she couldn’t believe the way “little old innocent Katie O’Hara” was acting.
“I’m the one who usually gets down and dirty with a guy,” she said later. “Girl, I don’t know what you were thinking!”
I’d like to just chock it up to being drunk and horny on New Year’s Eve, but I don’t think that was it, not entirely. Or maybe it was just that I’d had a really tough year at work and dealing with personal crap, that the thought of just letting myself go on New Year’s Eve was too much to resist.
Honestly, I just think that it was one of those rare occasions when you meet a guy and sparks just fly like the Fourth of July! I had no other sound reason for it because it was totally and completely out of character for me.
I simply found this guy (Brad the banker… yeah, right) that I had only known for five minutes to be sexy as hell. There was something about him that made every nerve in my body stand on end, like he was emitting an electrical charge or something. My nipples got hard inside my bra. I started feeling a moist heat between my legs. And there was this attraction, this immediate attraction, that I didn’t understand and still can’t explain to this day. The moment our eyes met I knew I would end up doing things with him I’d only dreamt of doing before that night.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m no slut, but I’m certainly no prude. I’d had my share of sex— some of it great, most of it not— but that was the first and only one-night stand of my life. I’m a good Irish Catholic girl from a big Boston family. My mom died when I was young, but I have six older brothers—three cops, three firemen—and a dad who owned an Irish pub called “O’Hara’s” in Southey who would kill any boy who looked at his little girl with lust in their eyes.
I didn’t lose my virginity until I was nearly twenty-years-old and a sophomore at Harvard, where I’d won a scholarship to major in law. I was the smart girl in high school, perfect SAT scores, belonged to all the scholastic clubs, and all I ever wanted to be was a lawyer. Don’t ask me why. There were no lawyers in my family and my cop brothers detested most people in the profession. I think it was watching that old LA Law show on reruns with my dad when I was younger. The law just looked so glamorous. You could make a ton of dough, wear fancy clothes, and hobnob with the rich and famous who were always doing something that required legal representation. I had no idea at the time that it would be such a grind just getting a law degree, then finding a firm that would hire me right out of school and pay me enough to even live on.
I was luckier than most. My grades were top notch. I graduated at the top of my class, and I seemed to have a knack for contract law. I applied for an associate position with Yates Hamilton & Booz, a prestigious Wall Street law firm after graduation. I had the luck of the Irish, my dad would say. I was hired and moved to New York City a week after graduation. Now, after six years of grinding it out sixteen-hours a day and having no personal life, I was on the fast track to making junior partner before I was thirty years old.
So, it had been a tough, ass-kicking sort of year. I had done nothing but work. I had not had a single date. I hadn’t been laid since I didn’t know when. So, when Monique asked if I wanted to go to O’Grady’s for New Year’s Eve, I said why not! I could use a little party time, blow off some steam, get shitfaced drunk, and wake up on the floor in a puddle of my own puke like the good old days of my freshman year.
I did not count on meeting a man that made my juices flow like ice melting down a mountain side. But when he walked in and our eyes met, I knew it was going to be a very interesting night.
I deserved to have a little fun.
And Brad the banker looked just like the kind of guy to have a little fun with.