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Shit! It’s a public place. I can just stop in for a drink.
Traviswasdoing it, and he no longer gave a shit about the repercussions.
Strangely enough, although Ally loved the work she did at Harrison much more than mixing drinks, she felt the most comfortable here at Sully’s. It might be a mind-numbingly boring job sometimes, but it was a place where she could be herself, and not have to be on pins and needles all night like she was in her job at Harrison. It might not be as interesting, but it was a lot more relaxed. It wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but most of the customers were regulars, people she saw almost on a nightly basis because it was a small, friendly bar. And Charlie Sullivan was the fatherly type. Her boss here at Sully’s was way different from her billionaire boss from Hell at Harrison. If any guy ever gave her hard time in any way, Charlie booted his ass out the door. He didn’t put up with anyone harassing his bartender or cocktail waitresses.
It was getting later, and the crowd in the small bar was thinning. It was Wednesday, a typically slow night anyway. She wiped down the bar, smiling at several of the patrons she knew, making drink orders in between her cleanup.
She hadn’t told anyone at Sully’s about her breakup with Rick. She’d never had an engagement ring because Rick had never had the extra money, so it wasn’t like Tina or any of the other ladies here at Sully’s had any physical indication that anything had happened. And it was too humiliating to share the fact that her fiancé had been screwing another woman in their bed. She’d kept her problems to herself, coming to work here every evening and just doing her job.
The only person she had confided in was Travis.
“Happy Birthday, Ally!” Charlie Sullivan, a big bear of man with reddish hair and a booming voice, came out of the back room, carrying a tray of drinks.
“What’s this?” Ally asked, puzzled.Tomorrowwas her birthday, but she hardly wanted to be reminded that she was turning twenty-eight years old, and no longer had a life plan of any kind.
Her middle-aged boss patted her on the back as he brought the drinks to an empty table. “You told me just the other day that even though you make these drinks, you’ve never tried any of them. I think you need a little birthday surprise. Time to try out something new.”
“I have to work tomorrow. And I have to drive home.” She gave Charlie a dubious look. She didn’t care for beer, and she did have an occasional glass of wine, but that was the limits of her experience with alcohol. Having been the only child of an alcoholic, she didn’t experiment much with booze. Maybe it was a bit odd that she was a bartender and yet had never been drunk. But she never had the time to breathe, much less be laid up with a hangover.
“I’ll take you home,” Charlie replied, taking her by the arm and leading her around from behind the bar.
“Come on, Ally,” Tina, one of the waitresses, encouraged as she sidled up to the table. “Live a little. Try a few.”
“I’m not completely done with my cleanup,” Ally protested laughingly as Charlie brought her over to the table.
“I’ll clean up. And make any drinks that need to be served. Try out your instructor’s concoctions,” Charlie encouraged.
Ally looked down at the tray of drinks, and then around the bar. There were only a few regulars, and they had already crowded around the table, patting her on the back and hooting for her to celebrate her birthday.
The tray consisted of almost all Blow Jobs, a drink that she’d made about a thousand times, and watched women consume with great relish every single weekend. Charlie had piled the whipped cream on the shot glasses high, which would make it almost impossible for her not to make a mess.
Live a little.
Really, Ally had never really lived, never did one thing that wasn’t carefully planned. Would it really hurt to try to have a little fun just once, laugh with a few friends? It wasn’t like she was going to become an alcoholic like her mother just from having a few drinks. Tomorrow was her birthday, and she’d be spending the entire day taking shit from Travis.
Do it, Ally. For once in your life, do something spontaneous. It’s a special occasion.
“Oh hell, why not?” she conceded, reaching for one of the shot glasses.
“Oh, no,” Tina said laughingly, playfully slapping Ally’s hand. “You have to do it the right way.”
Ally groaned, but compliantly put her hands behind her back when Charlie positioned them for her. She’d just try it once. Tina put the drink on a napkin on the table.
Ally had seen this done by other women often, but they made it look much easier than it actually was. Opening her mouth wide, she felt the burst of silky sweetness hit her taste buds and closed her lips around the rim of the shot glass. Unfortunately, the drink slipped and she only downed about half of it, the rest falling down the front of her t-shirt as the glass shot out of her mouth and to the floor.
Everyone groaned, and then laughed uproariously, encouraging her to try again. Tina came forward and gave her instructions on the fine art of doing Blow Jobs, and Ally tried again, getting the entire thing down this time. It was sweet, smooth, and went down easily, the taste delicious. She licked the cream off her mouth and went for just one more.
“Ally, if you’re going to do a blow job, you have to do it right. Tip your head back farther and swallow.”
Travis stopped in his tracks, his whole body freezing as he heard that booming comment from outside the small bar. His hand tightened on the doorknob until his knuckles were white.
Ally? Blow jobs? Swallowing? Holy fuck, no!
Travis felt his anger rising to the surface, something that almost never happened. He rarely let it get that far before stuffing it back inside him, except for his normal disagreements with Ally. But it wasn’t the same kind of anger; it was the much more dangerous kind. His stomach rolled at the thought of what he might find when he stepped inside, and he was suddenly feeling homicidal at the thought of Ally touching anyone in that way—or any way at all.
He heard several men laughing and one female voice that didn’t belong to Ally. What in the hell? Were they having a bar orgy?
Travis put all of his weight against the door as he turned the knob, the forward motion propelling him into the one-room tavern. There, in the middle of the room, was Ally. There was a man holding her hands behind her back, and Ally had her head tilted backward so far Travis was surprised her neck didn’t snap. One woman and several men stood around the table, all of them smiling.