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The soles of my riding boots crunch on the gravel as I approach the seedy bar at the edge of town. I can smell the cheap booze and cigarettes from half a mile away. Smells like home. The only one I’ve ever known, anyway. I throw the door open and make my way to the bar. A guy with a mullet straight from the 80s approaches me, and I blurt my order out, slapping a 20 on the bar.
“Sorry, no minors,” he says, waving me off with a yellow toothed smile and a dismissive glance, pushing my cash back at me.
“Good thing I ain’t one then,” I reply, pushing the money back. He gives an annoyed sigh.
“Oh yeah? Got any ID, Girlie?” Rolling my eyes, I dig my license out of my back pocket and pass it over. He studies it.
“Happy birthday, Kid. Shot of whiskey comin’ up.” I nod.
21 seems like such an insignificant age to allow someone to drink liquor, but here we are; my twenty-first birthday. I’ve been downing the hard stuff since I was 16. Not often. But sometimes a girl just needs a drink, ya know?
I slide onto the torn pleather of one of the old barstools and scan the room. It’s pretty empty. A few people, who I assume are regulars; a couple of college kids; a couple making out in the back; and a couple of big guys around the pool table. I’m starving, but something tells me that any food that would come out of this place would not be safe to consume.
“Hey, Buddy, how about sliding me a bottle of Jack and a beer?” I demand, calling the bartender’s attention.
“Anything for the birthday girl,” he snarls, obviously displeased at having to do his job. I give him a cheeky wink and smile in return as he passes me the requested items. I throw my first shot back and pull out my cell. No calls. Nothing new there.
“Now, what’s a pretty little girl like you doing here all alone?” a voice drawls to my left. I roll my eyes and turn to see who’s speaking. A tall guy with broad shoulders and long blonde hair is smiling down at me. He’s obviously a lot older, but he’s cocky as hell.
“Drinking, same as you,” I reply, offering him a silent cheers and downing another shot.
“Well, a lady should never drink alone. And I can tell you’re lonely.”
“Oh, you can, can you?”
“Sure can, Sweetheart,” he replies with a smirk.
“Well, I’m really not looking for company.”
“Aren’t you. I think you’ll be interested in what I have to offer.”
“I can assure you, I’m not.” I turn back around and face the bar again, assuming that he’ll go away like they usually do.
“I can smell you,” he growls. “You smell like candy. Lemme get a bite.”
Rearing back, I send my elbow into his gut. Before he can right himself, I stand and push him farther away.
“I’m not interested. And maybe you should take that hint and step away.”
He snarls. “Damn alien. Your people is why I can’t find no job!”
I roll my eyes. I’ve heard that one before.
“My people? I was born here, you jackass. And so were my parents. And their parents.” I punctuate my words with a harsh punch to his jaw. He sprawls out onto the floor and I stand over him, planting my boot’s toe in his chest.
“And my mama’s whiter than you, Huckleberry,” I snap, before returning to my bar stool. Being born half Latina has caused me to receive plenty of nasty comments and snarls in the past. But I don’t exactly pay them mind. Not anymore. I used to, but in my kind of lifestyle, you tend to grow a thick skin.
“Look here, Kid, I ain’t gonna have no riff raff, so you need to leave,” the bartender states, growing red in the face.
Just as I’m about to tell him where to stick it, a voice comes from the other side of the room. “Come on, Earl, Chandler had it coming. You saw that, same as I did.” I turn to see another large man; this one taller than the first, with mocha colored curls and intense golden eyes.
Earl looks at the man aghast. “But Dominic, she laid him out cold,” the bartender protests.
“Good,” Dominic says with finality, turning back to his game. Earl lets out a huff before pointing a finger at me.
“You’re on thin ice, Kid,” he threatens. I nod, raise my glass at him, and down another shot, chasing it with the nastiest beer I’ve ever had the privilege of drinking.
I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I’m sloshed. When Dominic approaches me, I give him a coy smile. I can tell that he’s tipsy too.
“Hi there, Darlin’,” he greets.
“Hey,” I reply, trying to stay on my stool.
“How’s about you share some of that whiskey with a friend?”
“You’re not my friend though. I don’t even know you,” I reply, taking a sip of the beer that has gotten warm, and yet somehow tastes better now than it did before.
“Well, you could get to,” he whispers into my ear, pushing my hair to the side.
“Tempting. Sure. Why not? I can’t finish it all by myself,” I state, passing him the bottle. He reaches over the bar and grabs a shot glass before pouring himself a healthy shot and throwing it back.
“Ahh,” he breathes. “That’s the good shit.”
I grin before taking my own shot.
When Earl calls closing time, Dominic and I are finishing up the bottle of Jack and swaying to the juke box in the corner.
“Let’s take this back to my place, shall we?” he invites drunkenly, nibbling slightly on my neck.
“Mmm. Yeah. Ok,” I reply, letting him take my hand and lead me out of the bar.
His place turns out to be a ragged motel a few blocks from the bar, but whatever. I’m not moving in. I’m just here for a good time. He barely has the door open before he has me bent over the bed and is working to get my belt off. He growls, and I turn to look at him, raising my brow in question.
“I love that smell,” he grunts out, yanking my pants and underwear down my legs.
“The smell of whiskey and wet pussy.” Which of course, this makes me even wetter.
Not nearly soon enough, he’s got himself stripped down and a condom on, and he’s thrusting his cock into me hard. Wrapping his hand around my throat, he pulls me flush against him as he pumps at a frantic pace in and out of me. And holy shit, this man knows what he’s doing. I’m close. So close, and maybe it’s the whiskey, or maybe it’s him, but I know that I’m going to come hard. My thighs are trapped between him and the bed, and my back is pin straight thanks to his firm grip around my throat, but damn, I’m ok with anything right now. He suddenly shoves me forward, bending me over the bed and hardens his thrusts, absolutely slamming into me now. He bites hard into my now exposed shoulder, and I scream as I come around his cock. He buries his nose in my neck, thrusts hard, just this side of painful, and fills the condom. I’m sweat soaked but smiling when he pulls out. He lifts me gently, removes the rest of my clothes and lays me in bed before climbing in next to me.
A few hours later, the sun pierces my eyes, making me groan as I finally wake up. A disheveled Dominic is sitting at the table on the other side of the room. I study him for a moment. He’s obviously a lot older than me, possibly in his mid-thirties, but he’s handsome. Tan skin, firm muscles, stunning features. Yeah, he’s hot. And he’s smiling at me.
“Mornin’ Darlin’,” he greets in a smoky voice. “I got you a cup of joe.”
I study him skeptically.
“I’m not a ‘hit it and quit it’ type of guy. I’m not kicking you out. Though, I do have some business to attend to a little later,” he informs with a small smile.
“Oh, yeah, of course. I should go, anyway,” I state awkwardly, standing to retrieve my clothes. He chuckles.
“Well, if you must. How about a name?”
“Ridley. My name is Ridley,” I say, pulling my jeans on, grimacing when I notice that I forgot to put my panties on. I hate the feeling of denim on my bare nether regions.
“And a number?”
I look at him, a little lost.
“I’d like to have more fun with you while we’re both in town.”
“Oh, ummm…Ok.” I rattle my number off to him, take the Styrofoam take out cup of coffee he bought me, and scoot before things get even more awkward. I’ve already got a raging headache, no need to add “death by embarrassment” to that.