Aidan’s cock stiffened as he watched her twirl about, pouring beers, mixing drinks, and chatting with the cluster of guys at the other end of the bar. Okay, the votes were in. His body wanted the bartender. The question was, should he saunter down the bar to join the pack drooling over her or could he entice her down to his end?
“What can I get you?”
Aidan shifted his gaze to the bartender standing in front of him. Young, bleach-blond hair, with a face that some guys would kill for. Unfortunately, the bartender was also a guy. With a slight grimace, Aidan answered, “No offense, but do you think I could give my order to her?” He pointed toward the woman.
The bartender laughed. “This is what I get for working in a straight bar. No problem, man.”
Aidan watched the man approach the woman and whisper in her ear. She glanced down to where he was sitting and gave him a smile and a nod. Just that much hardened his cock to full mast. He tried not to squirm as he returned the look. A minute later, she walked up to where he was sitting. She placed her hands on the bar and leaned toward him with a mega-watt smile.
“What can I get you? And,” she raised her eyebrows at him sternly, “keep it clean, sailor.”
Aidan grinned. “How’d you know I’m in the Navy?”
“I’ve been working down here long enough to recognize the look.” Her gaze swept over the visible part of him. Appreciation showed in her eyes, and his body temperature rose a few degrees.
He coughed slightly in embarrassment. He was used to women showing their attraction, but this woman’s blatant perusal threw him. Or maybe he was vulnerable because he wasn’t sure he had a shot with her, not these days. “How about your house special?”
Pushing away from the bar, she gave him a nod. “I can do that. Frosted glass and a lime wedge?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She gave him a saucy smile and twirled away to fill his order. His attention focused on her pert little ass. He tried not to stare too blatantly. She was Asian, too. He was sure of it now that he had seen her up close. There was no hint of the South in her accent, nor the North, as far as he could tell. California maybe. She was younger than he, perhaps early twenties. He appreciated how she hadn’t taken immediate offense to the automatic honorific he had used. Lots of women stiffened up and proclaimed they weren’t old enough to be a ma’am. Really, it only meant that they were adult women, and in his world, ma’am and sir were the natural endings to practically every sentence when speaking to someone in authority.
And this woman definitely ruled her domain. The other two bartenders, both male, treated her with obvious respect. He could see it in their movements around her and the looks they gave her. They liked her, too, as did the customers. He realized the obviousness of it when he saw the bows in her hair were money. Apparently, customers tied bills around locks of her hair. It was the only explanation as she couldn’t have done it herself. His fingers twitched as he imagined running them through her shiny strands of ebony hair. He pointed to the bows when she placed his drink in front of him.
“Do guys do that every night?” he asked before taking a slug of beer. The cold brew slid down his dry throat and helped to settle his nerves the moment it hit his stomach.
She shook her head, and the money bows crinkled. “Yeah. One regular started it about a year ago when I first got here and now it’s kind of a thing.” She shook her head again and rolled her eyes. “It’s silly, I know, and depending on the customer, a little creepy. But tips help pay the bills, so…” She shrugged.
Aidan took another hit of his beer and smiled. “I bet it’s a great way to tell when to cut them off, too. As a sobriety test, tying bills around locks of hair must beat out walking a straight line.”
She giggled, and perfect white teeth flashed between her plump, pink lips. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. A good point. So,” she asked, arms folded on the bar, leaning into him, “would you like a menu? We have some great bar food. The slider combo is awesome. Add some sweet potato fries and you’ve got a perfect meal to go with that beer.”
He hadn’t planned on eating, having grabbed something already at the house where he and his buddies were staying. He didn’t care that she was trying to up-sell him because it meant he could stay put longer without drinking too much. If he were clever enough, he could learn when she got off work and make a date for later. “Sounds good.”
She smiled at him again, and the punch to his gut forced air between his lips. He covered by slamming more beer back.
“Great. I’ll place the order. Want another round,” she added with a nod to his almost empty glass.