Page 19 of Minotaur Bar
“I like it! We don’t really have to do shit other than advertise. We can have food trucks park outside! Alcohol, obviously, in here! And just make sure to set up the back to handle an influx of bodies!” I rattle off excitedly. “This is totally doable, babe!”
“Told ya,” Duke says with a shit eating grin. “You’re welcome.”
“Cut him off,” Havoc replies as he pushes the minotaur, who just laughs in return.
“Don’t worry, Duke. He’ll be thanking you later when he makes bank off this idea,” I say.
“Watch it, red. You may be in charge most of the time, but I’ll make you work the bar alone that night if you keep talking shit,” my bull warns. I lean over the bar top, pushing my breasts together.
“And if I’m a good girl?” I ask in a breathy voice, one I know shoots blood right to Havoc’s cock.
“Then you can be the hot ass chick who holds up the signs in a bikini to tell everyone what round it is,” he growls back. I smirk.
“Wear those sweats I cut, and you can be the hot piece of ass with the sign,” I joke, making Havoc laugh out loud. “Are you gonna fight?”
“Fuck yeah,” he replies as I grin.
“Shit. I can’t wait to seethat,” I say, grabbing his horn and pulling his face to mine for a kiss.
“Fuck, if you’re fighting, my money’s on you,” Duke says. “This guy doesn’t quit in the ring.”
“I can’t wait to watch. I guess I have to behave now.” I mock being upset, pushing my bottom lip out. Havoc nods, looking at my tits.
“That was my plan all along. What’s a relationship without a little bit of extortion, huh?” I shrug.
“Not one I want to be in,” I say happily, turning to get Duke another beer.
“Thanks, Tess,” he says sweetly, tipping me a ten-dollar bill. I grab it and stuff it in my jeans, smiling at him kindly. Duke always treats all the bartenders well.
“Thank you, honey. Anyway,” I turn back to Havoc, “When are we doing this? We need a little bit of time to advertise and build some excitement for the event.”
“Mmm, like a month? Should be plenty of time to put everything together,” Havoc replies. “Hey, Duke. Your son still have that food truck?”
“Yes, sir,” he answers, cracking a peanut shell and dropping the nuts into his mouth. “Want me to talk to him?”
“Please. And if he has any other buddies who want in, let them know they can park in the lot too and keep anything they earn. I’m not looking for a cut,” he says as Duke nods.
“Sounds good! I know he’s got a circle of friends that he’s met doing all the festivals and other shit around the city,” Duke replies. “I’ll call him tonight. Let you know by tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Havoc says. I squeal, making him growl.
“Minotaur fight night!!!” I scream loudly. The two bulls shake their horns at me, rolling their eyes, but with smirks on their faces. “You better bring me a trophy home, bossman.”
“I’ve got your trophy right here, red,” Havoc retorts, grabbing his dick. I bite my lower lip. The minotaur has a fucking point.
*****
We spend any free time we have the next few weeks prepping for the fight. My dad helps me design a flyer to advertise and distributes them around town on his beer deliveries. I make sure to have stacks around the bar and direct anyone looking to sign up to Cash who is putting together the bracket. Havoc finalizes the details with Duke’s son, Ranger, and the rest of the vendors he hooks him up with. And every day after work, Havoc trains for the fight before we fuck each other to sleep.
I’m so proud of him. He’s been looking even hotter in his slutty crop tops as he bulks up a bit. It’s amazing how quickly the damn beast can pack on muscle. It makes me want to jump his bones that much more. At the rate he’s got me going, he barely has time for himself. But he doesn’t seem to mind.
We have so many bulls signed up that we have to narrow down the list. We didn’t anticipate the enthusiasm. But we start another list of those we have to cut to be the first ones to fight at the second event we’ll need to start planning due to thepopularity of this one. Thanks to Duke, we seem to have struck gold.
“I got guys all over town telling me they’re coming to the fight night,” my dad says to Havoc and I when he drops off beer three days before the event. “I think you’ll be packing way more than just minotaurs!”
“Damn, really? Should I be worried?” Havoc asks as my father shrugs.
“I’d definitely hire some extra security. Maybe have them sign a liability waver or something. But no one is guaranteed entry if you’re at max capacity. Just try to keep the fighting to the ring and I think you’ll be ok!” he says happily. I smile. I love that my dad is always so supportive. He and Havoc have grown even closer since I started dating my boss. Dad claps him on the shoulder, looking at me next. “You ready to tend bar, baby girl?”
