I sat upright while running my fingers through my hair. Everything was swaying back and forth; I was still drunk, and it was already 2 in the afternoon. The morning sun beaming through my windows lit up my loft, causing tears. I tossed my red sheet aside before heading to the bathroom. Veering into the mirror, my hands turned the faucet on to cold. Splashing the cooling water on my hot face relieved the swaying in my head. How much did I drink last night? I went into the kitchen for some more alcohol to help me get through this hangover.
"Two bottles of Champagne? That's it?" I uttered to myself.
"Ugh!" I heard a groan behind me.
Eric is lying on my couch in worse shape than me, "Want a mimosa?"
He contemplated for a moment before looking at me and nodding his head.
"Good," I responded, "Now I feel better about drinking as soon as I awaken."
I removed the orange juice from the fridge and seized a bottle of champagne. I came over to Eric with an outstretched arm, gesturing for help. My body slinked down on the couch next to him and opened the orange juice before hearing the release of the cork echo throughout my loft. He poured the champagne nearly to the top of both glasses as I splashed some orange juice. We picked up our drinks before looking at one another.
"Cheers," we toasted.
I opened my mouth and took two big gulps from the glass before my body shivered," That never gets any easier. Do you have any clients today?"
"Yeah, not until later," he winced, worsening his hangover.
"How late do you work?" I asked before finishing my mimosa.
His response was a half-lidded wink.
"You're such a whore," I giggled before mixing another drink.
"You're a prude," he retorted.
"Who knows? Maybe not for long," I smiled.
"Now that's what I like to hear," he gave as much enthusiasm as possible.
I gathered for work a few hours later and stopped at the employee alleyway entrance. Did I want to deal with drunk assholes on a busy night like tonight? The door swung open before I could think anymore, and Tanya brought empty boxes.
"Wanna get your sexy ass in there and help out?" she gruffed while tossing them off to the side.
"Yeah," I responded and followed her inside. I scoured the room and saw dozens of people waiting at the bar. The rest stood around drinking and being loud, "Is it two yet?"
"Ha ha, funny," she smiled. It's the weekend, and it's only 8 p.m."
"Yeah, but this alcohol is starting to kick my ass," I groaned and pulled half of my hair back.
"Well, we're stuck here together, and there's nothing we can do about it right now," she scoffed before pouring two shots of Glenlivet.
I looked down and began twisting my long hair around in circles on the crown of my head before pushing a hair stick through it. Tanya presented me with a shot glass, and she knew this was just what I needed to shut me up. I smirked, and we rattled our glasses before drinking.
"Woah!" she hollered, "Now get it together, girl!"
"Let's do this," I concurred and approached my first customer.
Four hours fly by as I turn left and right, mixing drinks and taking tips. As soon as the current cocktails become complete, there's always more and more to take their place. Before my mind can even process the drinks, I must make my hands do the work for me most of the time. It's almost like riding a bike. You stumble at first, but all that's left is muscle memory once you get it. Most of the younger crowd began to disperse from drinking too much too fast, and soon, very few people remained. I glance down at the clock on my phone.
"Hey," Tanya greeted with cash, "Tips for the night. I stay at this shitty job for this reason."
I smiled at her, peeked into my tip bucket, and was pleasantly surprised, "Every creepy drunk old man trying to take you home makes it much more worth it."
"Right?" she gestured half of her cash towards me.
"You keep it; you made more and worked longer than me," I said while cleaning pint glasses, "I can just take that bucket home and be good."
"Are you sure?" She tilted her head as she looked down at the cash I had yet to sort.
"Yeah, take home your money, girl!" I tried to mimic her.
Her hand retracted to her hip as her eyes narrowed on me, "It only works when I do it."
"I know," I laughed before hugging her goodbye. Do you want me to walk you to your car?"
"I think I can handle myself," she firmly grasped her mace in her right hand.
"Take care."
"Bye!"
I turned back to the bar and cleaned more of the pint glasses.
"I hope not all older people are 'creepy' to you," I heard a more profound sensual woman's voice.
My body tenses slightly, and my hands place the clean glass on the drain. I thought everyone had left. I tilted my head and was at a loss for words. This woman was stunning. Her dark red hair fell slightly below her shoulders, accentuating her large breasts. The deep v in her crimson dress exposed her cleavage, decorated with a long hanging diamond necklace. My gaze lifted as I examined her face more closely. The neutral tones in her makeup allowed her brown eyes to be the center of attention on her ovular face. The slightly accentuated widow's peak began to form due to age, but the dark lighting made it less visible. Her earrings matched her necklace and the ring on her wedding finger. My eyes caught a glimpse while the glass of wine graced her lips as she took a sip before placing it down. Who was someone like her doing in a low-end bar like this? She didn't belong here.
Slowly, I approached her, " No, sorry about that."
A small smile began to form across her crimson red lips, "I don't take offense. I am older, though," her eyes were locked onto mine, and she drank the last of her wine, "May I have another glass?"
"I was just messing around with my friend," I continued, "I didn't mean anything by it."
She didn't respond; she only moved her empty wine glass in a circle while still locking my gaze. Her eyes hint at mystery, hunger, and yearning. She pushed the wine glass towards me, breaking my train of thought.
"What were you having?" I asked.
"Cabernet," the low rumble in her voice made my mind rush. I looked around the well and could not find the bottle, "She had it set off to the side since it was a more luxurious brand."
I looked to my right and opened the cabinet we had reserved for expensive liquors. My hand seized the handle, pulling the door free before I took out the bottle and brought it back.
"You have enough for one more glass," I stated.
"Why don't you have it?" she offered.
I read the bottle, Scarecrow, and part of me was tempted, "I probably shouldn't."
"You shouldn't, or you don't want to?" she reasoned.
"I'm not supposed to drink on the clock," I clarified.
She scanned the bar, and I followed suit to see she was the only remaining customer. Why am I searching for a reason right now? Am I really that nervous?
"I don't think anyone here would mind," she said.
She was right. My boss was gone, and I was locking up for the night. Was there a reason not to? Why was I so abrasive when it's only a glass of wine? Am I still arguing with myself right now? Why am I thinking about this so much? No wonder I'm still a virgin.
"Everything alright?" her voice broke through the rambling in my head.
"No-Yes, I mean, my bad," I stammered before raising the bottle and drinking from its content. The sharp, crisp grape taste hit the back of my throat and sent a heated vibration down my stomach as I swallowed. It was smooth.
Her eyebrows lifted in approval, and a giggle escaped her lips before drinking from her glass.
"Am I entertaining?" I mused.
"So eager," she motioned to the bottle, "I used to be the same when I was younger."
"You can't be much older than me," the white lie slithered before drinking more.
"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied. The sensuality in her tone kept drawing me closer to her, making her more inviting.
"What brings you to a bar this late?" I conversed.
"I have everything I could need," she drank more, "Homes, cars, money, a good husband. Even after all these things, you can still feel unsatisfied."
I needed to figure out how to respond. A rush of heat vibrated as I finished the last of the contents in the bottle. This wine was making me feel different but in a good way. My spine relaxed, and I leaned over, not realizing it was closer to her.
"Good?" she asked.
"Very," I answered.
She smelled like black vanilla with hints of pear and gardenia. It was warm, sweet, and breathtaking. The way she looked and carried herself was both enrapting and intoxicating. Her glass touched my lips, and my eyes closed as my head tilted back. I could barely breathe as my body began to ripple, the anticipation of what would follow. The contents flooded my mouth before rushing down my throat and slightly overflowing down my right cheek. The drop gliding slowly down was stopped by a warm hand. My head lowered, and my eyes opened upon her heavy-lidded gaze. What was going on? What is this feeling? Most of all, who is she?
"Satisfied?" she nearly purred through her lips.
My mouth opened, and no sound came out. While taking a deep breath, my knees quivered as my mouth grew dry. I shifted more weight to my braced arms on the bar to prevent stumbling, closing the gap between us. Why was I becoming drunk this fast? Heat rushed throughout my body as my face flushed. It was a sensation I would like to hold onto forever.
"Always," I whispered.
Her eyes locked onto my lips as her tongue razed hers. The warmth of her fingertips lightly caressed my left cheek, and my eyes instinctively sealed themselves. She was gentle and tender to the touch, almost like an artist admiring their work. Her lips pressed onto mine, and I felt a yearning desire burn deep within me. She was gentle yet commanding and unafraid to express her wants. The soft hand was now behind my neck, pulling me into her tender force. My body leaned over the bar as our tongues rubbed against one another intensely. I tried breathing with no success, and she wrapped her other hand around me, pulling me over the middle of the bar. My toes were on their very tips as I grasped the edge of the bar top with both hands. I tried leaning back slightly to catch a breath of air, and she refused my attempt to disconnect from her. What do I do? Everything was becoming fuzzy, and my hands felt like they were going numb. My legs began to weaken-
Crash!
The glass shattered on the tile floor, but her hands firmly grasped behind my neck. While gasping for air, I slightly opened my eyes—her intense, hungry gaze connected to mine.
"Now that was satisfying," she whispered before releasing me. I watched as she grabbed her purse and reached inside, "Thanks for the drink, beautiful."
I was speechless as she strolled towards the front doors and exited the bar. What just happened? Why did she leave so abruptly? These questions ran through my head as I grabbed a broom and dustpan. Once I finished sweeping up the broken glass, I saw something on the bar top out of my right eye. I saw three hundred dollar bills in the spot she once stood in not too long ago. Maybe she just used me, but it was still a sensation I had never felt before, and it came from her.
"I'm here," I huffed, folding my arms. "Act your age, Ivy. You seem like a multimillion-dollar yacht is the worst thing in the world," Roy commented. "No, my hangover is, though," I groaned. "I hope you don't mind. I brought Iris." Roy veered over my shoulder. "Okay." "Thanks," I sighed while slumping lazily over the bartop. "Sorry for crashing your party," Iris apologized. "No, don't apologize. Maybe I can fuck you too," Roy smirked. I glanced over to see Iris blushing at Roy's remark, which, for some reason, bothered me. "Hands off," I sassed. "It's my yacht," he retorted, pulling me into his arms and planting a kiss on my lips. "I thought you weren't a couple," Iris commented. "We aren't," I grunted, shoving Roy back, "He's married to the woman I lost my virginity to." Iris's eyes widened in shock, looking between Roy and me. "She wasn't my wife at the time," he reasoned. "Speaking of, where is Callista?" I asked. "She is with Dimitri," he ans
"Really?" I teased, " You don't scare me, Roy, Zeus fucked that out of me a long time ago." Roy grimaced, turning away, "I know what he's done to Dimitri. I can only imagine what he did to you." I scoffed, rolling my eyes in annoyance, "I didn't say it to make you pity me. I said it because I want you to fuck me." Knock. Knock. Knock. We both froze. Roy cocked a brow. Who the Hell could that possibly be? Dimitri? "I thought you hadn't been here in years?" Roy reminded. "I haven't," I confirmed. With that, Roy walked over and opened the heavy steel door. "Derrick?" Roy commented, "What brings you here?" I hopped off the counter and tried my best to make myself presentable, considering how drunk I was. "Roy?" Derrick replied, "I'm sorry. My son told me I could find Ivy here." "Derrick?" I greeted, peeking around Roy, "What's up? Something wrong?" "No, the bar is opening on schedule, and I was coming by to let you know since you weren't answering your phone," D
After several more shots and a stumbling walk later, we made our way back to my loft. "What do you think you're doing?" I taunted. "Am I not staying here with you tonight?" he asked. "Haha," I drunkenly laughed, "You want me?" Roy shook his head and tossed his jacket on the countertop. "Everything is covered in dusty sheets. I doubt anything in here has been touched in years." "Your point?" I huffed. "I'm helping you, Ivy," he clarified, getting to work. I took out a dusty glass from the cabinet and rinsed it off. "Not going to help?" he said. I veered over to Roy, who had removed his shirt. His tanned abs are calling my name. "No, I'm pouring myself a glass of wine." "After all the liquor we just drank at the bar?" he questioned. I nodded in reply while removing the barstools from the island countertop. "How long has it been since you've been back here?" "I think around ten years," I admitted. "You never got rid of it?" he asked, removing the sheets
"This is where you used to live?" Roy commented. I glanced over. "When my parents died, I inherited the estate and all their assets. I stupidly sold the house and bought this loft with the money." Roy nodded. We sat in awkward silence. "Well, thanks for the ride," I hesitated. I tried opening the car door, but my hand froze in place. I hadn't been here in over a decade, and the thought of being inside made me sick to my stomach. There were so many memories here, mainly of Eric. It hurt so badly that tears almost came to me. I choked them down, swallowing hard, trying to hold my composure. "Did you want to grab a drink?" Roy offered. "Y-yeah," I agreed, "I know this great little bar. I used to work there." "Lead the way, Miss Ivy," he smiled. "First," I cleared my throat, "You gotta let me drive." "No, even my wife doesn't drive my Lamborghini." "I'm not your wife." Roy removed his sunglasses. Studied me briefly. "You think you're that good?" "I know I am.
Roy gazed intensely into my eyes before shaking his head and backing away. When he stood up and put distance between us, I wasn't sure how to feel. "What?" I asked. "I can't. Dimitri is in love with you," he explained. "He fucked Callista to punish me; how much could he love me?" I snorted. "That's why I did what I did to you in the limo. I wasn't joking when I said it hurt me to see Dimitri fucking my wife." I huffed in frustration. This is not how I saw this going. Roy didn't mind sleeping around before, but now he has morals. Since when? Pressing my tongue to my cheek, I removed my robe. Roy froze, his eyes studying me. "I can't," he grunted. "You expect me to believe you didn't have this in mind when you got this hotel room?" I taunted, slowly sauntering over. To my dismay, Roy tried backing away with every step I took. "Do I repulse you that much?" I paused. "Not at all. I would love to fuck you, but I love Callista more." "What makes you so certain she l
"Stop this limo, now!" I snapped. "Ivy, calm down-" "I can't!" I shouted before opening the door. We were already at a stop, so getting out wasn't the worst idea. A chilling wind hit my bare legs, and water splashed over my black strappy heels. I began to strut down the sidewalk angrily, trying to put as much distance between Dimitri and me as possible. "Ivy! Wait!" Roy hollered. "No! I'm done!" I shouted back, still walking away. The rain began to trickle down, the worst of which was in the summer heat. Now, of course, it is raining tonight. "Look," Roy said, twirling me to stop. "What?!" I grunted. "He's upset. He didn't mean what he said," Roy defended. "How the fuck are you defending him right now?!" I winced, walking away and around the corner. "Just stop!" Roy commanded after pinning me against the wall. "No!" I fought his grasp. "You're not stronger than me, Ivy," Roy chuckled. "Look, stop running away." "Running? I'm walking away because if I do
"I-I-" I stammered, still unable to speak. "Still a shy little girl, I see," he commented. "I'm not shy," I denied. "But you are, the way you hide your face, unable to form sentences, cheeks blushing red like a school girl," he explained. When it comes to Dimitri, it's different. You can treat him however you choose and not care for his heart. You don't know me, what I'm capable of, what I can do." "I'm sure you're nothing like Zeus," I hushed. Roy leaned back warmly, gazing, "I'm not going to fuck you for sport; I'm not an animal. I know what type of man he was. I knew Zeus as well. Knew about his and Tanya's relationship. Begging me to take her crazy ass off his hands. Not even I could handle that train wreck." I studied him, glancing at a scar hidden beneath this gold chain. "How did that happen?" I gestured. Roy looked down, clearing his throat before removing the chair and unbuttoning his shirt. He was in great shape, well-chiseled, and tempting. Without though
"It seems old tricks die hard," Callista boasted, directing her eyes to Dimitri. "What do you mean?" I questioned, following her gaze. "Dimitri is a creature of old tricks. He used to do this to me when we first got together. Of course, we fucked like rabbits back when we were young, always trying new and exciting things." Callista explained while gently caressing my inner thigh. "These things he seems to like doing with you," she whispered. She leaned into my ear, her warm breath sending shivers up my spine. "Tell me, what punishment does he have for you?" Dimitri purposefully set the vibrator off inside of me once again. My hand seized Callista's wrist while biting my lower lip. Dimitri said I couldn't cum by the toy. He failed to mention that Callista could satisfy me. A devious smirk came across my lips; Dimitri studied my face, tilting his head, trying to figure out what I was scheming. Slowly, I guided Callista's hand higher and higher up my inner thigh until her c
"Mom!" Rowan beamed while embracing me. "Oh, baby!" I whined. I held him tightly, not wanting to let go. It had been nearly a year since I'd seen him. He had grown so much and was taller than me now. I looked up at his youthful face; he looked much like Dimitri. "Stop growing!" I smiled. "Are you kidding me? I'm not even halfway there yet," Rowan joked, his voice deeper, not childlike anymore. He was undoubtedly going through his puberty phase. "Look at how handsome you've become," I boasted. "Looks like his father," Callista commented. "Aunt Callista, Uncle Roy, good to see you," Rowan greeted, giving them both a hug. "Hello, young man," they both responded. "You know one another well," I mumbled at his affection towards them. "I had no idea you would be here, Mom," Rowan explained, embracing me again. "I missed you, baby," I fibbed, squeezing him back, "I'll tell you what. I will get dressed, and then we can do something tonight." Once in the bathroom, I