Getting Off
Suddenly my head was flooded with lurid images: Liam’s hand down my pants, his fingers fucking me. His erection like a steel rod pressing into my back. Shit.
‘Look, I should really...be getting on.’ I backed away.
He frowned, ‘Wait a second, you’re looking for a job.’
I would have jumped at a job offer in Alaska if one had materialized right at that moment.
‘Yes,’ I conceded reluctantly.
For a long moment he was silent, as if weighing something up, and then he said, ‘Do you have experience working behind a bar?’
I blinked. ‘I’ve worked behind bars since I was sixteen and all the way through college.’
His mouth flattened for a moment and I had to restrain the urge to want to kiss it back into its sensual shape. He crossed his arms and I saw the muscles bunch in his arms. Between my legs jumped in reaction. Crap. So much for hoping the other night had been some crazy aberration; or the effects of a full moon.
He had a stern expression on his face and it reminded me of how he’d ordered me to lie down. It made me think of what it would be like to hear him issue such a command again, and what might happen if I disobeyed. Would he spank me?
My conscience gaped at me in shock. Where the fuck had that come from?
‘Do you think you could handle a busy New York bar?’
I crossed my own arms over hardening nipples and my rampant imagination running out of control. I made a derisive sound. ‘Do you think you could handle a busy Dublin bar?’
His mouth quirked. ‘All those soft romantic writer and poet types staring mournfully into a pint of Guinness? Hell, yeah, I could handle that.’
He was rising me. I smiled sweetly. ‘Well, I’m sure I could give a busy New York bar a try.’ After all, a snide voice pointed out, you gave its owner a try already.
Irritation at myself made me say, ‘But do you really think it’s a good idea? You weren’t mentioning a job going the other night when I told you I was looking.’
A muscle pulsed in Liam’s jaw. ‘That’s because our other permanent bar guy had to leave over the weekend due to a family emergency, and he won’t be back.’
His blue eyes narrowed on me and I wanted to squirm; it was as if he could see right through me.
‘You said yourself you’ve nothing to say about the other night. Well, neither do I. And I don’t mix business with pleasure.’
Something inside me clenched. Why did that hurt? I tipped up my chin. ‘It’s like it never happened.’
Those blue eyes flashed for a moment and tension seemed to quiver between us, but then Liam said, ‘Good. We’ll give you a trial. Come by at five this evening, I’ll have Toby show you the ropes before your shift.’
And then he turned and strode off, and despite everything that had just happened, all I could focus on was the way that broad back tapered down to slim hips and his tight muscular butt.
* * *
‘You’ll be great, the crowd is gonna flip when they realize we’ve got a real Irish girl behind the bar.’
I smiled weakly at Toby, who was the main bar manager of Sullivan’s, the same young guy I’d seen earlier. He’d been explaining the layout of the bar to me and the general workings. He’d also explained that they served food daily from morning to midafternoon, but that section was run by a crop-haired blonde called Candy, who looked anything but sweet.
Toby inclined his head toward where she was clearing up and said sotto voce, ‘Better watch your ass with Candy around, she likes young nubile ones.’
I repressed a smile. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
He was sweet, really. Decent-size height, nice body. Cute face. With his surfer-dude blond hair and huge dark blue eyes, I’d say he charmed his way into the pants of many a girl giggling into her beer. And then I recalled with fresh humiliation how his boss had had me all but giggling into my own beer.
I groaned inwardly. This was so not a good idea. But I’d painted myself into a corner now. And no way would I let Liam know how much he affected me by turning down this chance of a job.
Toby was holding up his phone. ‘Smile and say sex on the bar.’
I’d smiled reflexively before I realized what I was doing and then said, ‘Hey! What’s that for?’