A Shot of Sin (2 page)

Chapter Two

Shay raised a questioning brow at T.J. as he strode behind the bar toward her. He waited until she finished serving one of the bleach-blonde regulars before sidling up beside her.

“You okay?” he asked, always the gentleman. She liked T.J. He was sweet, caring and always had her back, even when she didn’t deserve it. His dark features and drool-worthy appearance didn’t hinder her fondness for him either. She doubted there was a woman who entered Shot of Sin who hadn’t fantasized about him, or the other two owners. And if the women were anything like Shay, they’d fantasized about all three of the men at the same time, because she was creative like that. Only now, she was too pissed to appreciate the gorgeousness of T.J.’s dark-brown eyes.

“I suppose that depends.” She wiped her hands on her jean-covered hips and eyed the bar staff to make sure they didn’t become overrun with drink orders. “Is Leo committed to being a jerk?”

“He’s only looking out for you.”

“Bullshit.” She met his gaze with a glare. She’d been through this before, having worked with more than one manager who didn’t believe she was as capable as her male counterparts. There was no way she would allow her time here to go down the same path. “I’ve never disappointed you. Not once. Yet Leo’s initial instinct is to claim I’m incapable of handling new duties. Christ, T.J., how hard could it be? I rarely see anyone go down there.”

T.J. winced while his focus strayed over her shoulder. Moments later, Brute strolled up beside them and leaned against the back counter as staff members buzzed around them.

“What’s going on?” His blue eyes were devoid of expression. As always. The dark-blond, clean-cut beard also helped to hide any emotions he had going on in that stubborn face of his. “Did you ask Shay about working downstairs?”

“We were just discussing it,” T.J. muttered over the music. “Leo was a little apprehensive about the suggestion, but I think I won him over.”

“Won him over?” Shay bit out. “He shouldn’t need to be won over. I’m the most capable bartender you have.”

T.J. and Brute exchanged a glance she suspected held hidden meaning.

“What?” she asked. “Aren’t you happy with the way I’ve been running things?”

“No. It’s not that.” T.J.’s response was immediate. “Leo’s being protective. Downstairs isn’t as…”

“Straight,” Brute added. “It’ll definitely keep you on your toes.”

Shay focused on them both in turn. T.J. no longer made eye contact. His attention hovered anywhere but her face, as if he were apprehensive, or maybe nervous. Brute met her gaze head on, but his vacant expression gave nothing away.

“I can handle it.” At the very least, she deserved the opportunity to prove herself. She only wished Leo had as much faith in her as T.J. and Brute.

“I know you can.” T.J squeezed her shoulder. “Leo does too. He’s just a little touchy when it comes to downstairs.”

Touchy
she could handle. What she couldn’t stand was the hit to her pride from a guy she had a female boner for.

“I better go check that Taste of Sin closed properly. I’ll catch you both later.” T.J. gave her shoulder another gentle squeeze and then made his way around the bar.

Shay watched him disappear into the crowd of dancing bodies and cursed herself for crushing on the wrong bar owner. Leo was too stubborn. The only problem was that he was exactly what she wanted in a guy. Apart from having the ability to melt her panties with a single glance, he was confident, capable and too deliciously sexy when he growled at her.

Their one scorching play session in the bar storeroom had been enough to cement her attraction to him. Confident and capable, Leo always exuded dominance and possession. Shay was certain he’d be the same in the sack. A wicked combination to tempt a woman who had never truly been satisfied by the opposite sex…or the same sex for that matter.

“So what’s the real problem here? Are you annoyed at Leo for not giving you the job opportunity, or are you pissed because he won’t sleep with you.”

Shay turned her gaze back to Brute with a gaping mouth. “You really need to research social filters.”

“Why? We’re close enough to cut the crap and I’m not going to waste my time beating around the bush.”

Of course he wouldn’t. Brute was the type to take pleasure in asking the questions nobody wanted to voice. “His aversion to sleeping with me has nothing to do with my annoyance.” She used the term loosely. They all knew she tended to bypass the annoyance stage and head straight to fury. “I can work any bar. Leo’s just being an ass.”

“Fair enough.” Brute shrugged, seeming unconvinced. “I’ll leave you to it. Just don’t sweat the simple stuff, sweetheart. If he hasn’t changed his mind by closing time, me and Mr. Attitude will have a chat.”

Even though he wasn’t the guy her libido craved, the term of endearment made her heart flutter. He may have been nicknamed for his brutality, but it didn’t stop her from searching for the soft and gooey center he pretended not to have. The guy had a heart. Somewhere. He just didn’t like to show it.

Brute strode away at the same time she noticed Leo standing in the doorway leading to the storeroom. His gaze was fixed on her, his jaw tight, chin raised. In an instant, the heart fluttering began to pound, from fury or attraction, she wasn’t sure.

She turned her back, unable to look at him without losing the last of her withering professionalism. Fucking asshole. His appeal defied logic. Not only was he worthy of naming rights to her vibrator, she was pretty sure toy manufacturers would kill to mold the package outlined in the crotch of his butt-hugging Chino’s. The annoying part was that he wasn’t just a panty-wetting machine due to his looks. He actually had a surprisingly enjoyable personality—for a male. Well, he used to. He used to be playful and flirty and charming…until the night he slid his hand into her pants and then backed away like he’d armed a bomb.

“Now I’m just another easy bar wench.”

“Excuse me?” He came up behind her, his shadow falling over her shoulder.

She turned and pinned him with a death stare. “I said, go fuck yourself.”

He raised a brow, the side of his heart-stopping lips tilting. “You’re quick to bite my head off tonight.”

She scoffed and nudged passed him. “Yeah, and funnily enough, you’re the one acting like you’ve got PMS.” She strode around the bar and into the dancing crowd illuminated in purple light. This time, she hoped he didn’t follow. She needed space from all his self-assured gorgeousness, and she was owed a twenty minute break.

Palming the phone in her pocket to make sure it didn’t fall out, she bumped through the mass of gyrating bodies and headed toward the opposite side of the building. As she approached the guarded entrance to the fancy-schmancy private club, she scowled at the guard manning the door. It wasn’t his fault she was crabby, but the fucks she gave about who took the brunt of her anger were nowhere to be found.

“Shay!” Leo’s voice rose over the heavy pulse of music. “Hold up.”

She paused, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child.

“You really want to go down there?” he asked over her shoulder.

She turned on him. “It’s not about wanting to go down there.” She raised her voice, hoping it didn’t waiver. “It’s about you not giving a shit about how hard I work. I’m the one who stays late to help clean up.” She tapped her chest with a pointed finger. “I’m the one who works overtime in the restaurant if someone calls in sick.” Tap. “I’m the one all the regulars come to because they know I remember their drink order.” She poked him in the sternum. “Your attitude is a kick in the face to all the effort I put in.”

Leo glanced around with disinterest. “You finished?”

“Do I look like I’m finished?” she grated and then thought better of continuing the hissy fit when clearly he didn’t care. “Forget it.” Turning, she pushed passed a couple making out and stormed for the nearest exit. As she strode by the guard at the private entrance, a hand grabbed her upper arm, pulling her back.

“Hey, Jeff, you mind letting us in?” Leo asked.

The colossal guard’s brows knitted as his gaze lowered to the grip tightening on her arm. “Sure thing, boss.”

He pushed open the bulky door and stepped to the side, eyeing them with concern as Leo hauled her into the darkness. When the door closed, Shay’s heart rocketed into her throat. In here, it was quieter, almost deafeningly so, and the faint thump, thump, thump of bass barely breached the walls. The light from the club had been extinguished too, making her eyes work to adjust to an even darker environment.

A quick glimpse to her left showed a narrow staircase with crimson wallpaper lining the walls and plush carpet under her feet. The area was more compact than she imagined, more intimate, especially when she stood toe-to-toe with a man who stole her breath.

“You know your grip is bordering on harassment.”

His hand fell away as she gazed up into his shadowed features.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t expect you to throw a tantrum.”

Tantrum? “If I wasn’t furious right now, I’d be belting you with a plethora of insults.” She shouldered him out of the way, no longer giving a shit about what treasures lurked below. He could take his private club and shove it where rich people don’t shine. She was a fucking brilliant bartender, and if Leo didn’t appreciate her skills, she might have to leave and find a bar owner who did. Stupid lust-filled crush be damned.

She gripped the door handle and plunged the leaver, but as soon as she pulled, Leo wrapped a strong arm around her waist. Time stopped, along with her breathing, while the heat of his chest invaded her lungs. She could smell his sweet, exotic aftershave. Could feel his warm exhalations tickling her neck as she fought to keep her posture straight and defiant.

“Being a great employee has nothing to do with my reasons for not wanting you in here,” he whispered, his tone full of menace.

She raised her chin, hating the way her core contracted and her nipples beaded beneath her bra. “Then why?”

He dropped his arm from her waist and the heat from his body disappeared. She turned in the silence, wishing she could make out his face clearly as he stepped back.

“Why, Leo?”

The sparing dim lights stretching along the roof didn’t reach the far corner where he stood. She couldn’t see his eyes, only the faint jutting of his chin and his straightened shoulders. She could sense a bravado settling over him, yet she had no clue why.

“This game we play,” he started, leaning back to rest against the wall. “I enjoy it. The banter, the tension. Even the way your flirting grabs hold of my dick and won’t let go.” He paused, as if sensing she needed a moment to let his words sink in. “I don’t want to ruin that.”

Her heart lurched. “Okay.” She’d never played games. Every time she’d flirted, she’d done it with intent, with the sole focus of not only getting in his bed, but in his heart. She sure as shit wasn’t going to correct him though. Not when he was being such an ass. “Where is this speech going? You’ve already made it crystal you don’t want to be with me, so why all the dramatics?”

Silence. Then there was a long, drawn-out sigh that dried her throat.

“Follow me.”

He started down the stairs, and she cursed herself for following behind so quickly. No matter how willing she’d been to walk out the door, curiosity still won. She needed to know what was at the end of the staircase.

As they descended, crisp, cool air danced around her heels, filtered in through air vents near the floor. The atmosphere was different to the bubbly purple and silver of the main area of Shot of Sin. In here, she struggled to fight unease. She could see picture frames lining the walls, and when they reached the first, she stopped and did a double-take. She expected a landscape, or maybe autographed images from people who’d made their way into this exclusive part of the club. But it was neither.

The first frame held a black and white photograph of a naked couple, intimately entwined. It was erotic, graphic, and when Leo glanced over his shoulder, she felt like she’d been caught with a hand in her own private cookie jar.

The beauty of the image made her feel inadequate. Here she was in a tight black Shot-of-Sin tank and jeans, while they bared their bodies and souls for art. It was spectacular and oddly confounding. Why would Leo, T.J. or even Brute for that matter, pick out something so graphic to decorate their private club?

She shook away the confusion and followed after the sculpted shoulders continuing down the stairs. More images passed by, all with couples in erotic poses—men with women, women with women, and more delicious than she would’ve imagined, muscled men with sexy muscled men. Each shot was beautiful in its own striking way, but now Shay was beyond bewildered and heading for freak-out central.

The darkness, the silence, the sex lining the walls, it set her fertile mind to work on some pretty heavy ideas. By the time she reached the last step, she was staring at Leo’s back in contemplation, her palms sweating and not from exertion. Finally, his warnings had sunk in, and she thought better of pushing him to the point of dragging her down here. For the first time since becoming an independent adult, she felt anxious.

“That’s the locker room.”

Leo’s voice startled her, and she glanced from his back to see him pointing to a closed door highlighted with one small light above the frame.

“Patrons are encouraged to leave valuables at home, but everything else gets locked up in there.”

“Everything else?” she asked, tagging along behind him.

He ignored her, not faltering in his dominant stride as he pointed to another closed door. “And that is the change room.”

“Change room?” she asked louder. “What is all this for?”

He continued to the end of the hall, to a padded door bathed in glowing light. A keypad was positioned on the wall at chest height, the numbers aglow in bright blue. She glanced from the keypad to the back of Leo’s head with growing apprehension. What required all this secrecy and security?

“Are you going to answer me?” Her voice waivered.

He always had a quick word to say. In fact, he usually had the final word in every conversation, yet now he was silent. Toot toot. All aboard the freak-out train. “Leo?”