Phoenix Rising(8)

Breathing deeply, she dropped the shot of mingled Baileys and Jameson into the Guinness and inhaled them both as fast as she could swallow. The Guinness was thick, but the Baileys and Jameson turned the flavor to chocolate by the time her tongue registered the taste. Slamming the glass down on the bar, Jessa swiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Two more it is, then.”

“You’re trying to get me drunk on purpose,” she accused. “I didn’t think bartenders were supposed to do that.”

He plunked another car bomb down on the bar. “This is an old-fashioned kind of place. We encourage drunkenness.”

The obsidian-tinted Guinness gleamed in the dim light, and a grin kicked up the corners of Jessa’s mouth. “Well, bottoms up to you, then.”

The second one went down just as easily as the first. Without another word, the bartender set a third drink on the bar and hustled off to help another customer. Jessa took the opportunity to grab a second look at him. He had blue eyes, tousled blonde hair with a touch of curl and a beautifully proportioned body. The guy was kind of hot. Not that it should matter, not that it did. Jessa wasn’t in the market for another man. She wasn’t even certain she was sorry she’d been dumped by the first one.

The colors around her swirled, glistening as her vision first hazed and then became sharper. The room noise began to blur and the first pangs of a good buzz slipped down her spine. More people entered the bar. The music seemed loud, but wasn’t. It took a moment for Jessa to realize that the pounding in her ears was the sound of blood pumping through her veins.

Safely tucked into a corner of the bar, she secretly reveled in the opportunity to observe everyone else. They looked comfortable, like regulars of some sort. Most were locked into the age-old dance of courting. They teased and flirted as if they had nothing else to do with their lives.

Several couples garnered immediate attention, one in particular. They were bolder than the rest and had managed to find an out-of-the-way corner. The woman was beautiful, her lithe body athletic with taut young breasts and a rounded backside. The guy seemed to appreciate it. His hands reached around to squeeze the globes of her ass, earning a gasping giggle. She nibbled her way up his neck, breathing in his ear and whispering something. Maybe an invitation?

They moved farther into the corner. Jessa shifted on her barstool, her eyes straining to follow every move. He transferred the girl from his bulging biceps onto one of the tables. Big hands settled on her thighs. Their lips molded together. His hands slid her miniskirt out of the way.

Heat flushed Jessa’s body from every pore. Bright red patches bloomed on her cheeks before creeping down her neck. She tried to turn her head and found she could not. Her eyes were glued to the scene, to the sight of his hands on the woman’s flesh as they slid closer and closer to the apex of her thighs.

The strap of the woman’s camisole top slid down. A shoulder and half her right breast slipped into view. One rose colored nipple peaked beneath the Lycra material before pushing its way into the open. The man’s mouth closed around the taut bud. His tongue slid lovingly over its delicately textured surface. Jessa’s own nipples beaded into hard little points beneath her silk blouse. The woman gasped again and Jessa inhaled sharply. Hot arousal pooled in Jessa’s belly as the woman’s hands fumbled with the man’s zipper and released his hard cock.

Jessa clenched her teeth to stifle a cry as the man spread his lover’s legs and positioned himself at her entrance. Was no one going to stop this display? How could these people fling propriety to the winds and fornicate in public?

A soft cry reached Jessa’s ears as the man buried his cock to the hilt in the woman’s body. Even from across the room their mutual tension was visible in their beaded sweat and facial expressions. The table squeaked, blatantly thumping against a tall column with each stroke. A low hum grew louder as the man gave voice to the intense pleasure of the joining.

Seconds later, the woman’s high pants joined his low baritone and the tension shifted. Awed, Jessa could only stare in rapt fascination as the man gave three final thrusts. Each brutal assault earned a broken cry from his lover’s lips until the woman wrapped her legs around his waist and flung herself back in what could only be the abandonment of climax.

He groaned, one hand braced against the table, no doubt pouring his seed into his lover’s welcoming body. The primal act sent chills racing down Jessa’s spine. Had she ever once seen such a display of basic instinct?

No. In that moment, Jessa’s third-party involvement had been far more consuming than any participation ever had been.