Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Sure. What time?”
“Ten o’clock. Don’t be late,” he barked at me and walked away.
Good fucking riddance. Jasper wasn’t the first asshole I’d ever fucked. Nope, that honor went to dear old dad. And likely, Jasper wouldn’t be the last, but he was the only one I had feelings for. He was the only one I thought of as a friend.
That’s what you get for thinking, Maureen.
Like my father used to tell me constantly, “You’re too pretty to think, Maureen. God didn’t bless you with that fat ass, tits for days, and that gorgeous face for you to waste your life thinkin’.”
At the time, he was right. But six months living on the streets had toughened me up and made me wiser than I was when I left home.
Thinking was my strong suit, and as I watched Jasper walk away from me like I was nothing, I thought maybe it was time to stop trying to figure Jasper out and judge him—and his feelings—by his actions.
Jasper’s actions told me that despite the years we’d known each other and the years I worked for him—we weren’t friends.
He was my employer, the oldest son of my mentor, the woman who saved me and helped me find my independence. My occasional fuck for cash. I was his stress release, his convenient piece of ass. I wanted to be more, but I wasn’t. And someday, I’d be good with that.
Today wasn’t that day. But I’d have to treat Jasper like he was my boss, not the man I was hopelessly in love with. Well, if I wanted to keep my sanity.
When my shift ended, I went home to reset, taking a long hot bath and then a nap, a dreamless sleep that recharged my batteries for the long night ahead.
As soon as I set foot inside Lucky Lopez, I knew it would be a longer night than I had imagined. The place was already packed, more crowded than I’d ever seen it. Horny men everywhere, hands reaching out for any ass they could find, whether it was on stage, serving drinks, or just passing by.
The only real difference was now there were horny women everywhere too. They were just as drunk and handsy, with the caveat that ‘It didn’t mean anything’ because they were straight or married.
I strapped on one of the tiny aprons the waitresses used, black leather, which was meant to blend in with the miniskirts or booty shorts so as not to hide all the goodies.
People came to Lucky Lopez to see tits and ass and as much pussy (or dick) as possible, and they got it at every turn.
Tonight, here at Lucky Lopez, I had my tits and legs on full display, a beauty queen smile on my face to get the men and women good and riled up to go home and fuck their husbands and wives—or girlfriends.
I flirted, talked shit, and upsold every group I approached, which meant my tips were fucking outrageous. So much so that I needed to switch out the twenty and fifty dollar bills that were bursting from both of my boots.
I sauntered up to the bar with a big-ass order for a Jack & Jill party saddled up to the main stage. “Hey, Samantha, right?”
The platinum blonde bartender with perfect tits turned with a skeptical look. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Got an order for two bottles of Dom for the Jack & Jills at the stage.” I ignored the look she gave me and waited for her to get my order ready. I understood.
From her perspective, I was a new bitch who’d come in and gotten the best section in the house. I would’ve been pissed off too. It was just her bad luck that I didn’t give a fuck. If she’d been through what I had, seen what I’d seen, she wouldn’t have given a fuck either.
“Here you go.” She set two bottles of 2009 Brut on the bar with a loud thunk that could be heard over the music, and I just stared at her.
“What?” she grumbled.
“Champagne is served on ice,” I growled at the dumb bitch and shook my head. “And we always give them the expensive stuff unless they specify. Bring the 1973 Reserve de l’Abbaye and the P2 Rosé. And two fucking buckets of ice.”
Christ, it was no wonder Jasper wanted me here. He needed me, or they’d be serving cheap champagne all night, and what the fuck was the point in that?
“And if they can’t pay?”
I laughed. “They can, and more importantly, they will.” I handed her the credit cards from the best man and maid of honor with a smile. “I’ll have my tip in cash, thanks.”
Samantha looked down at the bill and back up at me with a frown. “That’ll wipe out my hundred dollar bills.”
“Then you better call Thomas for more cash because I need to switch these twenties and fifties to hundreds. Get the ice buckets first. I’ll find Thomas,” I told her and flipped up the trap door to step behind the bar. “Go.”