*Story contains strong Language and EXPLICIT actions*
18+ is recommended for this book...Violence: sexual manipulation: suicide: Abuse: Kinks.
***
"You're here because of a fucking kiss.." He raises his eyebrows examining my face for answers...
It isn't premarital sex if you have no intention of getting married. -The Queen
Song Recommendation: Rhianna S & M slowed/Reverb<3
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TW: Violence, blood, drugs (if you count weed as a drug)
*****
Evie Pov:
Sex.
Man, don't we all love it?
Humans admire sex, we need sex, it's how we connect (literally & metaphorically). It shows us why we're alive, it's the third most basic human need. After food and good movie popcorn of course.
Speaking of sex. The sexual humidity of this bar would most definitely break our main thermometer. The Moisture radiating off of hormonal frisky underage men and women is undoubtedly devouring every crevice of this bar.
Sweat, tears, and desperation should be the name of this bar instead of bar 21. It reeks of young men prowling on women. One would think this is a prostitution ring at first glance, but I haven't even described the worst part.
The worst part is I'm on the other side, serving these horny fucks. I personally think we should invest in a fly swatter. Not for the matter of flies or insects, but the matter of swatting people making out on the main cocktail bar.
Remember kids, violence is always the answer.
PDA doesn't need to be displayed on a damn bar table, that may I add, I have to clean. Not only that but my favorite song just came on 'S & M' and I'm here wiping down this large ass counter. For a wage of 13.5 dollars per hour. Kill me now.
I glimpse past the endless individual tables of the bar, over to the dance floor while moving my hand in circular motions over the counter. I take note of women swaying their hips to a multitude of songs on their male counterparts.
Oh, the life I so desperately want right now.
I view one couple in particular, a woman dressed in a slim, sage green dress, capturing every beat to this song. She was doing a god damn good job at it too.
The luminescent lights seizing her movements making her look angelic. It was the man that was the problem.
The man is noticeably lost on the beat, I chuckle under my breath while throwing away the dirty towel rag. I continuing observing him, he struggles to grab the woman's waist. He looks like a deer in headlights, this must be his first time.
Poor fella. I snap out of my daze, spray the counter once more and scrub with a new rag like no tomorrow.
Hands-on my hips, I take a long look at the main counter it's shiny, clean, and looks like it was just installed, just how I like it.
