Preston's Luck - Page 3

I like to think of working here as paying my dues. The patrons even tip me for giving them the good tables. It’s only eleven and I’ve already made a hundred and ninety dollars in tips added to yesterday’s two hundred, I feel positively rich. Yes, please. No ramen noodles for the foreseeable future! The girls and I will eat like the queens we are tonight.

By two, my feet are killing me since I had to step in and serve for a waitress who got horrifically sick on shift and had to leave. I am doing both hosting duties as well as serving duties but the tips have only gotten better. It’s slow after the lunch rush and I am standing at the hostess stand when a shadow passes over me. Looking up, I squeak out loud. Holy shit. The hottest man I have ever, ever seen is standing in front of me. He’s looking at me like I stole something.

“Welcome to Hacienda Bar and Grill. I’m Tori. How can I help you today?” I ask, smiling in what I can only hope is a normal way. Of course, this is only after I finally remember to do my job instead of staring at him, staring at me, for way too long. “Sir?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything. He clears his throat before speaking.

“I have a reservation. Macfadyen.” Ho-ly shit. His voice is so deep and there is like this hard edge to it. I can totally imagine him saying my name just like that as he drives into me.

“Ah, yes. Macfadyen, table for two. This way.” Of course, a man like him has a girlfriend.

“Actually, my business meeting was canceled last minute, a seat at the bar would be fine.”

“Bar is full. I have a small table in my section. Does that sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Lead the way.” I can feel his eyes on my ass as I walk in front of him. I add a little more sway than I ever would, really giving him a bit of a show.

I grab a menu from the bin and lead him back to my section and seat him at a two-person booth. He sits down and takes the menu from my hands. Our fingers touch and I swear my whole arm tingles.

“Can I start you off with a drink?” I ask butterflies in my tummy.

“Sure. I’ll take a Coke.”

“Sure, coming right up.”

I move away from the table to the wait station and take a deep breath. Grabbing a glass, I add ice and fill it with coke. Of course, I am not paying attention and the soda spills out.

“Hey, Tori. Pay attention,” Betsey, the lead server says.

“Shit. Sorry,” I whisper.

“I saw the man you just seated. I’d be daydreaming too,” she says laughing. Immediately, I feel jealousy course through my veins. I don’t like that she was looking at him and I don’t even know his name.

What the fuck is wrong with me?Chapter ThreePrestonFuck me. She’s gorgeous. Tori. She said her name was Tori. Her long dark hair is swept back but I can tell it’s pretty long. She’s wearing tight jeans and a tight black tee-shirt, like the other servers, but they don’t look like her. Her curves are mouthwatering. I feel like I am going insane the longer I can’t see her. I tap my fingers on the table like a madman. Finally, she comes back into view and I feel like I can breathe again. She sets the glass of coke down in front of me. When our hands touched a few moments ago, my dick roared to life and it's so hard now that I am afraid it’ll never go down.

“Did you decide?” she asks, her husky voice even breathier than it was before.

“No. I haven’t even looked at the menu yet,” I admit. “Do you have any recommendations?” I swear I’d do any damn thing to get her to stay here and talk to me.

“Um… I love the enchilada platter,” she says shyly, but the way she says the word love is torture. It rolled off of her tongue like a curse and went straight to my balls.

“Perfect. I’ll take that.”

“Okay. I’ll put that in for you. Chips and salsa?”

“Sure,” I say, and she flits away again. I can’t help watching her ass again as it sways back and forth as she goes. I notice two other guys look in her direction as she goes by. They get her attention and order something else. Then she laughs at something one of them says and my gut clenches along with my fist. I don’t even know if this angel belongs to another man, but I covet her all the same.

I watch as she moves away from the table, and through the swinging doors into what I am assuming is the kitchen. I stare at the doors like a crazy asshole for I don’t know how long before I think I should not be doing that. I pull my phone out of my pocket and pretend to be doing anything other than what I am.

Tags: M.K. Moore Erotic
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