Page 3 of Hot Mess
The smile returns, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s the same look he got when his dad showed up junior year after he wrecked his BMW—he put on a brave face then too.
Thatcher glances over my shoulder to the bartender down the bar and nods his head in my direction. I wonder if all the employees in this place have been warned about me? So much for going under the radar in this place.
Thatcher quickly excuses himself, and I lean against the bar, waiting to order. This gives me some time to look around, and people watch. Most people come to Vegas for the excess, the sin, and the gambling, but if I’m going to risk my money, I’d much rather it be for something a little more interesting than a stacked system.
“Excuse me!” a blonde woman pushes her way through the slightly inebriated crowd.
Her big blue eyes and even poutier lips give her expression the appearance of attitude with hardly any effort to back it up. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of her looks when she’s really angry. And yet there is something about her that doesn’t make me want to turn away.
She doesn’t look like all the other women in this place. Her style of clothing is subtler compared to the flashy leave-nothing-to-the-imagination outfits most of the other women a wearing. It’s refreshing because it makes it easier to take in the beauty of the woman and not the clothes. Especially her shapely bare legs, which look smooth to the touch. My cock pulsates with excitement as my imagination runs wild with all the things I’d like to do with her.
However, I’m not the only man to notice this stunning creature, and I can see the wheels turning in their minds on what to say with their opening line. Something tells me, that it's going to take something more than a cheesy pickup line to get her attention.
She doesn’t pay attention to the interested gazes of the men she passes on her way to the bar. The man next to me steps back into the guy on the other side of him to give her some room. We watch as she pushes herself up to lean over the bar to get the bartender's attention, but he's dealing with the crowd at the other end.
“Who do I have to blow around here to get a drink?” she says louder than I would have advised, even with the music blasting.
I’m not sure if she’s entirely aware of the tsunami of Axe body spray that’s about to hit her when every man within hearing range of her comes running.
“I’ll get you a drink, baby,” the guy on the other side of her says.
She drops down off the bar allowing me to see her expression. And from the look of it, she's about to rip him a new one, but she seems to think better of it.
“Okay, I’d love for you to get me a drink.”
The guy turns around and waves wildly for the bartender's attention. For a moment, it looks like he's going to walk over, but he notices me give him a slight shake of my head, calling him off. He returns his attention to the people in front of him.
The blonde beauty’s lips turn down in a scowl of disappointment and turns to catch me smirking in amusement.
“I suppose you think that you can get me a drink then,” she challenges me, jump-starting the competitive drive in me.
“No,” I say, the corner of my mouth ticking up in amusement. “I don’t think. I know I can.”
Her eyes narrow slightly like she isn’t convinced. “Go on then.”
“What’s it worth to you?”
“I’m not going to blow you if that’s what you’re thinking.” She huffs.
The night’s still early.
“I want something way more valuable than that,” I say.
“I don’t have any money.”
“Not money.” I shake my head. “What I value most from you is your name.”
3
JESSIE
He wants my name?
I can’t deny the way my heart flutters in my chest when he says this. I was expecting some perverted request from him that would test my willpower not to kick him in the balls. But he has to go and say something cute to put me off my game. I specifically picked this end of the bar to walk over to because of him. He was the only guy here that didn't look like he was trying to impress anyone. His well-worn brown leather jacket and jeans look more guy next door than a rich asshole. He looks to be in his early thirties, and I love the way the skin crinkles around his eyes when he smiles. It tells me that he's not some boy but a man.
“You only want my name?” I ask, my lady bits tingling.
It’s been a long time since a guy came at me with something more refreshing than some corny pickup line I've heard a hundred times before.
