rls gossiping and vice versa. A couple of the guys from the 'wanker banker' group are standing in front of their mirror. "Jeez, that barmaid is hostile tonight," Donkey-boy, as I have nicknamed him,
is a total slut," a skinny guy with blonde hair replies. "A guaranteed good lay and she never stick
my spine. He grimaces but doesn't utter a sound. The guys finish up and then leave the room, leaving me to won
hey have returned to their table be
hear that," a low voice
I felt earlier is nothing compared to the electricity that tingles in my limbs at his proximit
They didn't say anything that's not true. I am a slut..." I pause for effect. "And, well, I do give amazing head."
ays and neither do I; both of us are searching for that human connection that makes us feel alive. I have no desire for a relationship, and this helps scratch the itch without the messiness that comes when you involve pesky emotions. It sounds harsh, but this is how I have lived my life for th
an concentrate on getting the drinks out. The next couple of hours pass by in a b
nth later, a graffiti artist altered the sign one night by adding an '&' and doing some clever work with the lettering. It took a couple of comments for us to realise that inadvertently the bar had
re having." With a start I find myself starin
ne p.m., so instead Finn devised a system so staff could cash in their drinks as tips. A couple of good weekends often pay my mortgage for the month so it's in my interest to mark it down, but tonight
says with a grin before handin
h my first genuine
ike
ion sends my eyebro
the god-awful glower you have had going on
d clink it on his beer bottle before saying, "Bottoms up." The sho
t how his sexy arse fills his jeans as I roll his name around my head. Jackson. Not a typical British name but it suits him. He has this air
ted when I spot him still sitting there. Heat works its way up my neck as he stares across at me with a look of undisguised lust. I glance away, suddenly feeling somewhat shy, which is not like me at all.
clearing everything up, and I pitch in, clearing up the glasses from the tables. When I reach Jackson's
p my hands shaking with the nerves running through me. What is it with my reaction to this guy? "What time
enly desperate to kiss the man who
says in a low voice full of promi
ross the room. "I
nd gives me
Jackson. "You
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