Scotch On The Rocks Novels & Stories

Just a few curved booths and a small private bar. It was the perfect set up I needed at the moment. I slid into the corner booth and gestured to the bartender. "Scotch, and leave the bottle." He didn't question it. He just brought over a bottle of Macallan 25 and a glass and set them in front of me. "You need anything else, Mr. Cole?" "No." He nodded and left, but not before I saw a look of pity Flash in his eyes. I wanted drag him back and punch the look away. I really wanted to take out my anger and frustration on anybody, but the couldn't. I was not that kind of monster, even of that was what Scarlet thought.

"What'll it be?" "Macallan on the rocks." With one hand, she reached for a glass and used the other to pull the bottle from the rack. I was by no means a connoisseur of fine liquor, but Macallan 12 shouldn't be top shelf, yet there it sat. She stretched to reach the scotch, exposing the delicate lines of her torso and individual ribs. And when she faced me, it was easy to see a light in her eyes. It was a shame this girl had gotten caught up here; she was attractive, and it had nothing to do with her being topless. "Do you want to start a tab?"

Collections of wine, all categories from foreign brandy and whisky to champagnes and red wines. Wayne grabbed a bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label and poured himself a hearty glass. He put in a few cubes of ice from the fridge and took a long swig at it. The whisky rushed down his throat, dousing every ounce of desire left. Nothing like a good glass of alcohol to relax you and summon sleep. He heard Rojan descend the steps and come to join him at the bar, he climbed atop one of the bar stools. Wayne gingerly poured another glass for him.

I slumped my shoulder. "I was really a bad friend huh?"I said apologetically. "No way doofus." "Anyway Drake and I are dating."She said grinning at him. There smile was infectious.It made me remind ....Uh no not that road again. "So what you girls want to drink?" "Scotch on the rocks."I said boldly.I need a drink badly. "You sure Nat?" "Why not,we are celebrating." "I need the washroom."Zita yelled under the loud music.

“Would you care for more drinks?” “Yes, I’ll have another scotch on the rocks,” he looks at me. “Make that two,” I say morosely and ignore the mild look of surprise in the stewardess’ eyes. ***

Money flung onto the counter, the grizzly man grunting as he snatched his Budweiser. Zoe was thankful for the bar between them. Something had gone awry for him tonight and he was clearly itching for a fight. Tossing the cash into the till, she tilted her head to the next customer. “What can I get you?” “Scotch neat, please.” The din around her ceased, her heartbeat clanging loudly in her ears as the hoarse voice penetrated through the silence.

“That’s seventy-year-old scotch from my private collection. The amount in your glass is worth more than three months of rent on this office. It would be a shame to waste it.” All three of them were looking at me, now. XXX

From where Elliott sat on their couch, he demanded, “Why do you smell like murder?” Nate exhaled deeply and walked behind the sleek bar to reach for his favorite scotch which was just one drink among the many high-end liquor bottles stored below. He raked strong fingers through his dark hair, popped the top off the bottle with his other hand, and ignored the cork cap rolling toward the end of the bar where it hovered. Very aware his pack mates were waiting for an answer, he poured a hefty amount into a sleek, clear rocks-glass. “What can I say? The world is shy one disgusting human being as of tonight.”

A heavy oak table that could seat fourteen, was draped in stark white linen, but for now, it was just me, a small crystal tumbler, and a glass of Macallan 25-Year. I preferred my Scotch neat, the amber liquid a smooth, fiery companion. I was wearing dark charcoal trousers, a crisp, open collared navy shirt that complimented my skin tone, and a bespoke smoking jacket...unnecessary for lunch, but necessary for the atmosphere I intended to create. It was authoritative, yet relaxed. Hot-Daddy-Energy at its apex. I swirled the glass, the ice long gone, the heavy scent of aged oak and vanilla a constant in my personal bubble.