1
Presley
Getting ready for a girls’ night out shouldn’t be this difficult, I’m exasperated trying to find the perfect outfit for our monthly night out. One where Lyla, Callie, and I let our hair down, drink a few glasses of wine and catch up. Something we missed out on last month, not that I’m complaining, but this time it’s my choice. We change things up every time we go out, but for some reason, we always wind up at Maverick’s Place. So, today when the girls and I were talking, I suggested we just grab some food at home and then head to our usual haunt. There’s nothing better than a live band, a breeze from the water, and downing our drinks.
We usually grab an Uber or one of our parents will pick us up. Nine times out of ten though, it’s an Uber. We all hate to drag our parents out at closing time. Then we make our way to one of our places — we all live within twenty minutes of each other, but in different directions of town.
We girls learned during our college years, we’re best friends until it comes to living with one another, we like our space. Not that there is anything wrong with that, we lasted our whole way through college together. Sure, we had our fights, but we also made the most amazing memories ever.
Our mothers are best friends, they made a pact long ago to live near each other and raise their children together. I couldn’t be more thankful for that, even if we wanted to wring each other’s neck sometimes.
Shaking my head, I get back to the task at hand, finding something to wear. Do I want to go with a dress, skinny jeans, or a skirt? The weather is perfect for just about anything, but even with a closet full of clothes there’s nothing standing out that I want to wear.
Walking away, I turn around and flop down face first on my bed. I don’t care if it messes up my makeup or my hair.
The reason for all of this turmoil? A man, of course it is. I mean who cares if Lincoln has given me those looks, yet doesn’t follow through. I really thought it was a figment of my imagination, but when the girls noticed it too, well, I knew it wasn’t just me.
“Ugh,” I groan out loud, lifting my head up and flipping over so I’m on my back. My thoughts go back to Lincoln, the way his grin had me more than hooked. The chestnut hair that is always messily tousled, arms that are strong, so strong it’s what we girls call “arm porn”, plus there are these intricately designed lines tattooed along both of his forearms, that disappear under his shirt. I’d love to know just how far up they travel.
He’s been the focal point in not only my dreams, but also my fantasies for months now.
I finally get up, knowing just what to wear. I remember what I wore the first time he gave me a glimpse of a smile that he never seems to give anyone else.
2
Lincoln
It’s been six months since I’ve walked into the small town of Shiloh, bought this place, and turned Maverick’s Place into a success. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking about moving all the way across the country to a small town that’s mainly along the intracoastal waterway. Yet, when I was looking online, the bar popped up and I saw the potential and something solid to invest in.
Not to mention, I needed a change in life and pace. Helping my dad run his multi-million-dollar construction company was slowly wearing down my thirty-three-year-old self. Sure, the money was great, but the hours were long and not being my own boss sucked. It wasn’t my passion, so I was smart during my time with the family owned business. I socked money away, invested wisely, and was able to buy Maverick’s Place with cold hard cash. My parents didn’t have any hard feelings when I told them my dream. They whole-heartedly accepted my decision, and I’m thankful as hell for that.
Walking into my place, seeing the lights, the dance floor, the pool tables to one side, and it’s packed. Even though we’re only open four nights a week, it’s slammed every single moment. I thought about opening it an extra night a week, but profit is good, and it gives me the opportunity to have the down time I desperately needed just a year ago.
I may be the boss, but I have no problem pulling my weight behind the bar when we’re busy, something that looks like it is tonight. The back patio looking out to the water is full of paying customers and so is the inside.
“You need help out here?” I ask Carmine. He’s manning the bar along with Angela.
“Hey, Linc. Nah, we’re good right now. We may in an hour or so,” he replies while mixing a few cocktails.
“Sounds good, I’ll be in the office. Holler if you need me,” I rap my knuckles along the bar, then start to make my way to the stairs that lead up to my office.
Taking one last look around, hoping to get a glimpse of the woman that somehow makes my heart beat more than any adrenaline rush I could ever get from jumping out of an airplane.
“Fuck,” I murmur to myself.
“You probably shouldn’t talk to yourself like that, I hear it’s bad for your health,” a husky voice says to me, shocking the hell out of me that I didn’t hear or feel someone’s presence this close to me.
I whip my head around, and if today isn’t my lucky day then I don’t know when it would be. It’s that moment you take your chance to play the lottery. That’s how perfect this moment is.
Looking down into beautiful deep grey eyes, eyes that haunt my every waking moment. Presley’s a good head and shoulders shorter than me, even in the tall as fuck shoes she’s wearing. My gaze lingers on her eyes for a long time until I take her in, she’s the whole god damn package. Her legs, I swear she’s all fucking legs, smooth, tan, and my imagination takes over on all the ways I want them wrapped around me.
Taking my time, I allow myself to take her all in, the way her shirt is showing a small glimpse of skin of her stomach and breasts I know I want in my hands and mouth. Her hair is long, that has different colors of brown and blonde. One of my fantasies is having my fist wrapped around her long locks as I guide her mouth to my now throbbing cock.
I finally move back to her face, lips that I know once I have a taste of, I’ll never let go, and that’s why I haven’t pursued her yet. Excuse after excuse, that’s what I made. But seeing Presley here right now and in front of me, I know I’ll be going after her, and I’ll be doing that tonight. I don’t want any other asshole thinking she’s available.
3
Presley
I didn’t think what I was wearing was too revealing or would garner this much attention from Lincoln, but the way his tongue came out to lick the top of his lip, I may as well be naked standing in front of him.
“Presley,” he croons.
“Lincoln,” I reply a little breathless. He’s in his customary jeans, dark washed and worn out in all the right ways, with his black polo with Maverick’s Place embroidered on it.
“What are you doing in this dark corner?” he asks.
“Heading towards the back deck. Lyla and Callie got here before I did. It’s crazy here tonight,” I string my words together, barely. I didn’t come this way to get his attention. No way, that would be on the verge of stalker like status.