After Sundown

After Sundown

By Anna J. McIntyre

SENSUAL ROMANCE SERIES

PUBLISHED BY:

Robeth Publishing, LLC

Copyright © 2012 Anna J. McIntyre,

Robeth Publishing, LLC, All Rights Reserved

After Sundown

By Anna J. McIntyre

Chapter One

"To put it bluntly, After Sundown is a pick up bar. My customers come to get laid."
S
onny Martin's exact words echoed in Kit Landon's mind as she made her way through the front entrance of the infamous bar. Had jobs not been so scarce and money so tight
,
Kit
never would
have considered accepting the consulting job with After Sundown
, n
or would she have agreed to spot the bartender in question. Yet,
if the employee
w
ere
stealing
, Kit would soon find out. She knew all the tricks. It was her job to know.

Standing alone
at
the entrance of the bar, Kit paused several moments, allowing her eyes to adjust to the interior of the dimly lit room. Af
ter
Sundown was definite
ly a dive. Thick swirls of smok
y grey haze filled the air, creating an atmosphere
that
bespoke clandestine meetings and illicit rendezvous.

Several pool
tables
occupied the rear section
of the darkly paneled room. On the far wall, beyond the pool tables and parallel to the entrance, was a door
leading
to Sonny's office. Knowing Sonny was just behind the wall, helped ease Kit's anxiety of spotting in a bar, which under normal circumstances, she would never
patronize
.

Sounds of Brooks and Dunn, origina
ting from the compact disk juke
box, blared from several wall
-mounted speakers. The jukebox was located
on the wall opposite a small alcove
in the mid
section of the
bar. The alcove led to the
public restrooms. Stretching along the right side of
the
room, the oak bar faced a dozen
station
a
ry
bar stools, each fashion
ed
from oak, tarnished brass and faded red vinyl. Seven, battered and worn, wooden picnic tables
provided seating
to the left of the room.
Clientele used the empty floor space between the pool tables and picnic tables for dancing.
More than two dozen customers filled the bar. Less than a third were women.

Both pool tables had players
,
and
on the dance floor,
two couples pressed together, swaying provocatively.
Less than half of the barstools were
occupied
, yet
three of the picnic tables were taken
.
Heads turned to stare as K
it made her way to an empty barstool. Eyes
boldly apprais
ed
the
ne
wcomer
.

To convince
the bartender that she was just another After Sundown customer, Kit dressed for the part. She wore
black suede, high-
heeled boots with a borrowed denim s
k
irt
, and a pale pink, V-
necked sweater. The skirt was too short and the sweater too tight. Kit felt as if
she were dressing up for an adult Halloween party, wearing her sexy slut costume.

While s
urveying the room, Kit absently touched
the ends of her
hair
that fell over her right shoulder. She smiled, suddenly reminded
of her recent trip to the beauty shop. While her hair was still long, falling a few inches past her shoulders, it now had a stylish cut and blond
e
streaks, transforming
the
once dull brown
, lifeless
hair. The pricy haircut and color was a luxury Kit could no longer afford, yet it had been a birthday present from her sister-in-law, Susan. Kit had to admit Susan was right
;
the new hairdo
drastically improved her appearance.

Kit ho
isted her 5"6" frame onto a bar
stool and was conscious of her s
k
irt riding boldly up her thigh. Uncomfortable with her figure, Kit
fough
t the urge to tug at the
skirt's hem.
She had long since come to term
with the fact that her figure would never be willowy. Her shape was voluptuous, full breasted with ample curves. Exercise kept her firm, yet she would never be thin.

Cole Taylor leaned against the
jukebox
and lifted his scotch and water to his lips as he studied the new arrival. Just watching her lush body
mov
ing
toward the bar made him hard. He hadn't been with a woman for two weeks, and that had to be something of a record. She was a hell of an improvement over the usual easy lays
coming
to After Sundown seeking sexual release.

Unlike most of the male customers, Cole came to the bar
to
drink
,
and chat with his old friend, So
nny Martin. Indiscriminate, one-night stands, with casual pick
ups, was a practice Cole Taylor abandoned in his youth. Yet, after seeing the tempting curvy
piece
, he decided to give her a tumble. Glancing around the room, Cole knew he wasn't the only one with that idea.

He needed to make his move fast, before someone else snatched up the prize. Not for a moment did he think of her as a person. Simply, she was a prime piece. He could care less what was in her pretty head. Cole only cared about wha
t was under her tightly fitting skirt
and beneath her snug sweater. By the
way
that
her full breast
s
mov
ed beneath the pink knit fabric,
he
guessed
they were real. He certainly hoped so.

I feel like a lam
b c
hop in a room
o
f wolves
. Kit chuckled inwardly as she ordered a beer from the bartender and glanced warily around the room. It amazed her that
a
wom
a
n could actually pick up a stranger in a place like this and have casual sex. It wasn't as if she didn't understand desire and sexual need. It had been two years since
she had
been with a m
an, two years since her husband’s murder
.
W
hen a woman
is thirty-five,
and
at her supposed
sexual peak, celibacy
is
hell.
However
, Kit Landon
was
raised with the notion that sex and love were intertwined. She hadn't slept around before or during her marriage. Therefore, she wasn't about to start now.

Utmost on her mind was raising her daughter, Sarah, and earning a living. Any emotional or physical needs she might have
she
ignored. She simply didn't have the time. A fifth generation
restaurateur
, with a
business
degree
,
Kit
successfully managed her father's restaurant until he died nine years earlier. His medical expenses ate up the profits from the sale of the family's restaurant and left his daughter to find employment with a respected restaurant consultant firm. At her daughter's birth, six years earlier, Kit left her job to become a full time mother. With her husband's untimely death, she was forced to return to work. Juggling motherhood and employment, Kit started her own consultant firm, enabling her to work from her home.
Unfortunately
, jobs were
scarce
.

The cash register, positioned against the wall behind the bar, was in her direct line of vision. Although Kit had been
virtually
raised in her parent's restaurant and bar, she never patronized anything remo
tely resembling a dive or pickup bar
.
Until now
, any side jobs of spotting usually involved upscale
restaurants or hotel lounges
. There
, she could take a friend along
and chat at the bar while
observing
the bartender.

Sonny explained that if she brought a friend with her to After Sundown, it should be a girlfriend. Women simply did not bring men with them
;
it defeated the purpose. Since Kit had no desire to drag any of her girlfriends to a pick up bar, especially since most were married, she agreed to come alone. Kit's brother would be joining her in about a half hour, playing the role of Kit's pick up. This would enable her to avoid the unpleasant attention of the male customers who would
undoubtedly
assume she was on the make.

The tall redheaded bartender eyed Kit appreciatively
;
he was practically leering. Kit wanted to reach over the bar
top and smack him across his chubby freckled face. Instead
,
she forced a smile
and rested
her elbows on the oak
surface.

"What'll you have?" The bartender asked as his right hand flicked a cocktail napkin in her direction. The thin white square floated to rest on the bar top directly in front of
her.

"Coors light,
ta
p,
" Kit answered. Moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, she leaned forward and crossed her legs. The denim s
k
irt slipped further upward, exposing a tempting show of womanly thigh.

"Don't believe I've ever seen you in here before
,
"
t
he bartender comment
e
d
,
as he set a frosty mug on Kit's bar napkin.

"
I
usually come on
Tuesday
s,
" Kit lied, knowing this bartender never worked on Tuesdays. She passed the bartender
two
dollar
s
.

"My name's Chuck. So what kept a pretty lady like you away on Saturdays?"

"
I
usually work nights on the weekends
.
" Kit smiled and took a sip of beer.

I bet you do!
The bartender chuck
l
ed to himself as his eyes briefly
glanced over
the soft
swel
l
of breasts escaping from the low
neckline
of Kit's sweater. He turned and walked to the cash register.

Over her beer, Kit watched as the bartender slipped her money into the register, yet did not ring up a sale. When the bartender glanced over to Kit, she absently looked around the room.

"Chuck! Make us two bourbon and sevens!" One patron called out from the rear of the room,
while leaning over
to
take his shot at the
pool table. Kit watched as the bartender
filled
two glasses with ice and placed them side by side on the bar, their rims touching. Chuck held the soda gun and
filled
the glasses with
lemon lime,
while reaching for the liquor gun. With a quick fluid motion, the bartender moved the bar gun over both glasses, splitting one shot of bourbon between the two cocktails.

Thief, I see you building
your
drink in reverse and splitting the shot!
Kit narrowed her eyes in disgust and
finished
off her beer. She hated thieves. People who were willing to steal might be willing to do anything. Kit's husband,
Kevin
, had been killed by a thief
,
k
illed over a lousy
twenty
dollars.

"Can I get you another beer?" Chuck asked Kit a moment later.

"Chuck, let me get that for the lady." The deep voice startled Kit.
She had become so engrossed in her thoughts that she failed to notice the male customer about to claim the empty seat to her right.

Turning abruptly
on
her barstool, she came face to face with an extremely handsome
ma
n,
who was easily over six foot two.
As he sat down beside her
,
h
is
ebony eyes fixed on Kit's face. His thick, wavy hair was dark brown,
with a touch of
grey,
falling
just inches past his collar
,
tied back in a ponytail. He reminded Kit of a pirate. Full lips parted into a se
nsuous
smile as his eyes swept over her, making a thorough appraisal.