Chapter One

Brett

 

“Troy, being my wingman doesn’t mean sit at the bar ignoring me. Christ, you’re fucking useless,” I say, grabbing a seat.

My best friend, Asher really screwed me over by falling in love. Don’t get me wrong, he deserves to be happy and all. He just didn’t take me into consideration when he handed over his heart...and balls. Thanks to him, I’m stuck looking for a replacement wingman. You’d think these assholes would jump at the chance. I mean most of them would never have a chance with any chicks if it wasn’t for me. Yet, none of them take it serious.

“Thanks man, you make it a real treat to hang out with you,” Troy says, shaking his greasy hair.

Tossing back my shot, the warm liquid burning down my throat, I slam the glass down, grinning. “Damn right I do. You’ve gotten laid twice in the last two weeks. Let’s not pretend it isn’t because of me. Sex and you weren’t exactly on the best of terms.”

“Whatever. So what’s the plan?”

Tossing back another shot, I scan the room. “That’s more like it, Troy.” My eyes land on a blonde bombshell. She’s got her friend with her, which is where Troy comes in. Slapping him on the back, I push a shot his way. “Drink up, we’re going in.”

Troy walks over in his faded, worn-out jeans with a hole near the front pocket and an old t-shirt. Damn, I kind of wished he would have dressed up, maybe even just a little bit. I know I’m in no Armani business suit, but at least my jeans are clean and my t-shirt doesn’t look like it got ran over by a truck. He starts talking to the blonde’s friend. I give them a few minutes before I make my move. The whole point is to make sure the friend is well occupied before I get over there. With Asher, it was easy. We both knew exactly what to do, but trying to teach someone something that was perfected over years, isn’t that easy. Even for me.

I grab a beer and make my way through the crowd over to them. “Troy, hey man. Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s it going?”

Scrunching his eyebrows, he looks at me. I slightly widen my eyes, trying to get him to say something. This is what I’m talking about. Fucking idiots.

“Oh, hey Brett,” he says, sticking his hand out to me. Christ.

“Don’t be so rude. Why don’t you introduce me to your beautiful friends,” I say, looking right at the blonde, giving her a wink.

“Layla,” she says, with a smile.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl. I’m Brett.” Yeah, I’m laying it on thick, but that shit works.

After a few minutes of talking, Layla invites us both to sit. Surprisingly, Troy keeps the friend well occupied. So, I take full advantage of the time with Layla. I ask her questions about herself, because I know women, and she’s the type that likes to talk about herself. She comes across as this tightass, but she’s anything but. She’ll happily let me bang her in the bathroom of this bar.

Moving closer to her, I rest my hand on her thigh. Glancing down at it, she bites her lip. “Nice ink,” she says.

“Thanks, do you have any hidden tattoos?” I ask, with a grin.

She laughs, like I knew she would. “No, but I’d really like to get one. I think it’s real sexy,” she says, running her hand up and down my arm. “Do you only have your arms done?”

Trudging my hand through my dark hair, I wink. “No, it’s not just my arms, sweetheart.”

Here we go, wait for it.

Running her eyes all over me, trying to figure out where my ink is, she smiles. “Where else?”

That’s it.

Leaning my mouth close to her ear, and my hand closer to her pussy, I nip her earlobe. “How about I show you?”

She’s more than willing to grab my hand once I stand up. Leading her to the bathroom, I check over my shoulder to make sure Troy is still keeping the friend occupied. This is by far the best he’s been as a wingman. Maybe he’s trainable after all.

Pushing into the bathroom, I slam her against the back of the closed door and kiss down her neck. She lets out a soft moan when I bite her supple skin. Hiking her leg up, I grab it, holding it against my hip. As I work my way down to her tits, I push my hard cock against her.

“Oh, Brett,” she moans out, trying to kiss me.

Pulling her away from the door, I push her against the wall, keeping my front to her back. I’m all about fucking, but kissing, no. That shit is too personal, too much emotion and feelings happen when you kiss. Since I’m avoiding that car wreck, I keep it all about the sex.

Pulling her hair, I turn her head to face me. “Layla, if you want me to keep going, let me be clear. This is just sex, nothing more. You good with that?”

Lust clear in her green eyes, she bites her lip. “Show me those tattoos, Brett.” Yanking off my shirt, her eyes widen. “Damn, that’s hot.” She takes a moment to let her gaze travel over the ink on my arms and chest. Roses on the arm, a cross front and center on my chest. Mi Vida Loca, ‘my crazy life’, scribbled across my pecs.

Giving her a half grin, I lift her and she wraps her legs around me. Her hands explore my upper body, as I free her tits from her dress. Sucking a hardened nipple into my mouth, she bucks against me, letting out a loud moan.

Sinking my fingers into her ass cheeks, I move to the other tit. She continues to moan, sinking her nails into my back. I need to fuck her. Just like this, pressed against the wall with her tits hanging out.

As I start to unbutton my jeans, the door flies open. “Brett, this wingman thing is really working. I’m leaving with Suzie,” Troy announces, before even noticing what the fuck I’m doing.

Layla screams and pushes out of my arms, covering herself quickly. “Troy, get the fuck out of here, man,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Oh damn, sorry. Sorry man. Just carry on,” he says, stumbling over his words as he rushes out.

Layla, on the other hand stands there with her arms crossed, giving me some evil looking eyes. “Your wingman. Seriously? You set me up,” she yells.

Christ. “Layla, come on. Does it really matter? You’re still turned on.”

“Was. I was turned on,” she shouts, rushing out the bathroom, letting the hard wooden door slam as it echoes through my ears.

“Troy I’m gonna fucking kill you,” I whisper, picking my shirt up to toss back on.

Grabbing a seat at the bar, I figure I’ll drown my sorrows. Maybe give Asher a call and tell him a real friend would get his ass down here.

“Is this seat taken?”

Turning my head, I can’t help the smile that breaks out. “Eva Chapman. How the hell are you?”

We met in middle school and she was always fun to hang out with when we were young. I’ve seen her around from time to time over the years, but come to think of it I haven’t seen her around in a while.

She looks damn good. Her long brown hair falls over her shoulders, leading right to her tits. Which look fucking amazing almost spilling out of her dress. That blue dress. Damn, what I wouldn't give to see what's underneath it. Shaking my head, I push away any sexual thoughts of Eva. She's just a friend.

Laughing, she sits down. “Better than you, considering I was in the ladies room and overheard.”

Groaning, I scrub my face. “Great.”

“I’m guessing you need a new wingman?” she asks, laughing again.

“Why you want the job?”

“Maybe. Maybe I do.”