What’s Next?

Whiskey Neat

 

3-3-16

Chapter 1

I work hard so my cat can live a better life.

-T-Shirt

Lenore

6 months later

“Do you have any batteries?” A deep male voice asked.

I blinked, looking up from the Cosmo magazine I’d been reading, and immediately blushed.

Freakin’ blushed!

You would think after owning a sex toy store for four years that I would be beyond blushing.

But, boy oh boy.

The man currently standing in front of me was to die for.

Drop dead gorgeous.

Tall, blonde, and handsome.

Okay, I needed to stop reading romance novels.

But he was freakin’ sexy.

He was tall with blonde hair shaved up at the sides, leaving hair on the top of his head like that the men in that Viking show wore. He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, and a beard covering the lower half of his face.

He had on a navy blue t-shirt tucked into dark washed jeans, with a brown belt around the waist.

He had muscles.

My God, did he have muscles.

I didn’t even think I could span my hand around his biceps, they were that big.

And his t-shirt clung to his well-defined chest, making my mouth dry.

“Batteries?” He asked again, impatiently this time.

“Umm,” I hesitated. “The only types we sell are the ones prepackaged with the v-vibrators,” I stuttered.

He glared harder.

“Which ones have double A’s?” He asked shortly.

I stood on shaky legs and walked over to the huge wall of vibrators.

We had every shape and type of vibrator known to man.

And, as a courtesy, we sold batteries to go with them.

In case, you know, you wanted to try it out in your car on the way home.

Well, not really.

I wasn’t sure why they were included, to be honest.

I refrained from asking why he came here instead of the Dollar General down the street, and was glad I did in the next instant when he offered that information up willingly.

“The dollar store’s power is out due to the storm,” he said, grabbing the nine inch whopper dong that was directly in front of him.

“Umm,” I interrupted him. “If you don’t mind me asking, how many batteries do you need?”

His shrewd blue eyes turned to me, and I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping.

“I need six of them,” he answered.

I nodded.

“Then that one,” I said, pointing to our most popular one, “Would be your best bet. It’s the cheapest that we have that takes six.”

I handed him the All American Whopper Vibrator and promptly blushed up to my hair roots.

“Thanks,” he said, tucking it under his arm. “Got any drinks here?”

I shook my head. “No. Not unless you want a Capri Sun,” I said.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to take your drink. Thanks…”

He stopped when a moan drifted up to us from the dressing room.

I sighed. “Be right back.”

I walked through the fetish wear and stopped at the closed dressing room stall that was only half a door for this very reason.

“Sir,” I said. “Ma’am. You can’t do that in here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I freakin’ hated it when people had sex in the dressing rooms!

I mean, seriously! Who does that?

A moan was the only thing that drifted to me in reply and I started to get mad.

People thought that since I was just five feet two inches tall, that I wouldn’t bust my fist in their face…but they would be wrong. I grew up with two brothers who treated me like a little brother instead of a little sister.

I knew how to hold my own.

I pulled my keys out of my pocket and opened the dressing room door to find a pasty white ass thrusting viciously into the willing vagina of his girlfriend.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Do you mind taking that outside before I call the police?”

The guy kept thrusting, but the woman’s eyes opened.

She promptly started slapping the man on the back.

However, the man kept going, and I knew this was going to get nasty.

I’d detected the guy was on something the moment they’d come in here.

His pupils had been dilated something fierce, and I knew that he spelled trouble.

His girl, though, hadn’t been wasted.

In fact, she’d been just fine.

And she looked nervous as hell to be in a sex store.

Now, though, she didn’t seem all that embarrassed if the pleasure that rode high on her cheeks was any indication.

“She said to fucking leave,” the deep voice said from behind me. “Get your fucking cock out of her and get the fuck out.”

I coughed.

The guy listened to the man, though.

Thank God.

He turned around with a glare, pulling himself from the woman with little care that he was swinging it out for everyone to see.

He had a pretty sizable cock, but it was nothing compared to the monster dildo I used.

“Please leave,” I said again.

The man glared and bent down to pick up his jeans that were around his ankles, roughly pulling them up and over his still hard cock.

Luckily, he left without another word, the girl trailing behind him.

“That happen often?” The man asked.

I shrugged. “At least once a shift.”

His eyes showed surprise, and I thought it was kind of funny.

I didn’t think much of anything would shake this man, but him knowing that I dealt with that on a nightly basis upset him.

Weird.

“That’ll be thirty-two fifty,” I said softly.

He handed me a credit card, and I couldn’t help but look at the name on it before I handed it back after swiping it.

Griffin.

That was an interesting name and fit him aptly.

I wondered if he went by Griffin.

“Have a nice night,” he said as soon as I’d handed him the receipt.

I couldn’t say I wasn’t disappointed…because I was.

A lot.

But it wasn’t really surprising.

I didn’t get many second looks.

It was the red hair.

Match that with pasty white skin, freckles on top of freckles, and a scar down my chest, and men didn’t give me a second look.

Not that he could see that scar…but when they did, men started to freak out a little.

It was my hair length, though, that fascinated most guys.

It went down to the lower half of my ass cheeks if it was unbound; which it usually wasn’t.

And guys seemed to think it was really cool that I had such long hair, which was inevitably what made them stop to talk to me in the first place.

The next few hours seemed to drag by as I waited for the end of the night. By the time two A.M. rolled around, I was practically bouncing off the walls to leave.

Not that I had anything to go and do on my Saturday night.

Nobody in Uncertain, Texas had anything to do on any night, whether it be Monday or Saturday.

We had two bars, two restaurants that closed at eight p.m., a Walgreens near the interstate, a Dollar Store, and a neighborhood grocer.

That was literally it.

Unless you wanted to go to the lake, something that I didn’t do. Not at night, anyway.

I wasn’t one for being eaten alive by alligators.

Humming to myself, as I always did, I locked up and started to walk around the building where I parked.

As I spotted my car, I nearly choked on my tongue when the dildo that Mr. Griffin had purchased, a few hours earlier, sat on my hood with a note that said, “I won’t be needing this.”

I laughed as I took it home.

I wasn’t laughing at all an hour later when I was using that thing of beauty and calling out Griffin’s name as I came.

Hard.