Claimed Series

Filthy

“Scotch please. Double and neat.” I hand the bartender my card, and she swipes it quickly, then gives it back to me.

Cal orders the same, then pats me on the shoulder. “You’ve been quieter than usual. What’s up, man? Single life treating you wrong?”

Single life sucks. Cal’s allergic to any kind of commitment besides work, so he wouldn’t get it. “I’m adjusting.”

“You need some pussy.”

“I’m not disagreeing,” I say, more playful. The bartender brings our drinks, and she gazes at me, her eyes lingering on my mouth. With long dark hair and cat-like brown eyes, she’s the opposite of Ava.

She has a sleeve of tattoos on one arm, and wears a bold purple lipstick. My cock tightens against my pants, warning me it’s been asleep for too long. “I’m not ready, though.” I look square into Cal’s eyes, to keep him from trying to convince me to join Tinder or some other weird shit.

“Ready for what? This isn’t some blind date situation. Some distraction would do you good. Unless you’re thinking about going back to Ava.”

I take a longer sip of scotch, the bold liquid rushing down my throat and burning my chest. When I left my home, I meant to do it forever. I couldn’t keep a relationship just to treat her like crap and make her feel bad about her mistake. And, shit, I knew I’d be that prick. Ava didn’t deserve that—neither did I.

The last time we fucked, I called her names, and… while it was part of a game, a part of me, a dark side of me, enjoyed every minute of it. How could I make love to my wife when I’d fucked her like an animal and cussed her out? And liked it. “I can’t go back.”

“Okay, so move on.”

I drink some more. How to erase years of memories overnight? Another question Cal wouldn’t know the first thing about. Screwing is his answer to everything. Other patrons walk in, and the bartender does a slick job helping them in a brisk pace. She glances my way every so often, her pretty eyes carrying a hidden message. A promise.

Blood rushes down to my cock, and I massage the back of my neck, uneasy. I should just pay and go.

“So I told Andrew he could give someone else the commission,” Cal continues, gesturing with his hands, telling a story I should have been paying attention to. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

Cal glances at his phone. “Andrew’s calling me. Okay. Gotta take this. Be right back.” He slides off the stool and marches out of the bar, to the quiet area near the lobby.

I raise my tumbler to him, then take another sip. I look around me, and the place is getting packed. Two other bartenders have joined the other one, and are all working swiftly together to get everyone drinks.

“All alone?” says the bartender from earlier, her voice smooth.

I silently read her name tag. Marion.

“You could say so.” I shrug. I’ve been alone for the past few months—even while married. Still, now, without Ava around me, somehow the loneliness stings deeper.

She tilts her head to the side, and flashes me a sexy smile. “I’m taking my break.” She removes her half apron and places it in a drawer, then opens the door leading to the interior of the bar. I watch her, admiring her lithe form, the sway of her hips as she walks. Then, she walks by me, and leans in. “I don’t suppose you smoke, do you?” She cocks her head in the direction of a hallway, and I’m guessing it leads to the exterior of the building.

Excitement stirs in my groins. “No, but if you make a strong case, I might just start smoking,” I say.

She bites her lower lip, a promise evident in her eyes.

I glance around me, searching for Cal, but he’s still away, talking to his coworker. No one will miss me, right? Discreetly, I slide off the stool and follow her. My heart beats in staccato with each step.

She opens the glass door leading outside, and I’m behind her. Quickly, she turns around and grabs me, and slams me against the wall. I kiss her, and her mouth is hungry for more. She tastes like a bit of scotch and also something more raw… more carnal.

I take control by switching around so she’s against the wall and I’m stabbing my tongue inside her, tasting more of her. She encircles her hands around my neck, and with a swift move I wrap her legs around my waist. She’s hot and ready for me.

My cock is ready for her too, straining against my pants so hard, making me lightheaded with lust. I touch her breasts over her shirt, and sneak my hand inside. Her nipple greets me, taut and full. I nibble her lip, earning a moan or two from her, and then I pinch her nipple a bit. Another moan—this one sounds like it belongs in a porn movie.

I withdraw from her, and look at her square in the eye. She reaches down to my cock, not breaking eye contact. Then, an acidy sensation spreads through my gut, and my stomach clenches like someone punched me.