What Happened After the Last Drink at the Bar

I walked into the bar alone and felt the eyes lock onto me before I’d even crossed half the room. It’s not vanity: that night I’d dressed exactly so that would happen. I was wearing a short red faux-leather dress that hugged my waist and high boots that went all the way up over my knees, and my hair was loose, long, wavy, falling down my back. Several men followed me with their eyes, but none of them dared to move from their seats.

None of them except one.

I noticed it the moment I sat down at the bar. He was looking at me with an intensity you could almost touch, running his eyes over me from head to toe without hiding it and without hurry, like someone who had all the time in the world. I raised my hand to order a drink and, before the bartender even came over, he was already seated on the stool beside mine. He smelled expensive. He adjusted his shirt cuffs and, in a deep voice that I felt in my stomach, ordered two whiskeys.

—I hope you don’t mind —he said, without really asking.

I didn’t mind at all. I looked at him boldly, giving him the same appraisal he’d just given me. His body was defined beneath his white shirt, and his arms were covered in tattoos that disappeared under the fabric. When his eyes met mine, a crooked smile crossed his face, as if he already knew how the night would end.

—A woman like you shouldn’t have to wait so long for a drink —he added.

The bartender set down the two glasses. He handed me one and, as he passed it to me, his fingers lingered on mine a second longer than necessary. The glass was cold; his hand, burning hot. I felt that heat rise up my arm and go straight down to my stomach. This is going to end badly, I thought, and I don’t give a damn.

—And what’s a woman like you doing here alone? —he asked, leaning toward my ear.

—I was supposed to come with a friend. Looks like something better came up for her —I answered, slowly bringing the glass to my lips, never taking my eyes off him.

He arched an eyebrow, amused. He set down his drink, turned toward me with one arm resting on the bar, and with the other hand he unfastened the top button of his shirt with a natural ease that made me angry and turned me on at the same time.

—Even better. You’ve got all my attention tonight.

His eyes dropped to my neckline, to the curve of my waist, to my hips. He brought his jaw close to my ear and lowered his voice until it was almost a whisper.

—What a coincidence that those plans changed, huh? Especially now that a better offer showed up.

A large tattooed hand settled on my lower back. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of the dress.

—I’m Mateo —he said—. And I almost always get what I want. The question is… —He lifted my chin with two fingers, forcing me to hold his gaze—. Can you handle me?

—Who said I want anything from you? —I laughed, unhurried, raising an eyebrow.

He let out a deep laugh, the kind you feel in the other person’s chest. He leaned back a little, giving me room, but kept his hand firm against my back, staking his claim.

—I didn’t say you wanted anything from me —he purred—. But I can see the way you look me over, the way the color rises in your cheeks when I get close. Tell me, am I wrong?

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, brushing my skin with his fingers. It made me tingle all over.

—You caught me —I admitted, lifting my chin with fake dignity—. I’m Daniela. Nice to meet you.

—Daniela… —He repeated my name as if savoring it, and his hand slid down to the curve of my hip, gripping me with possessive softness—. I caught you staring at me. Now that I have your attention, what are you going to do with it?

He finished his whiskey in one swallow. The other hand came up to stroke my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.

—What do you think I deserve for looking at you too much? —I teased, narrowing my eyes.

A low growl rumbled out of his throat. His grip on my hip tightened.

—A night you won’t forget. A chance to find out how much pleasure I can give you before the sun comes up.

I couldn’t help shivering. I took another sip of whiskey to hide it, even though my hand was trembling a little.

—That would be pretty risky on my part, wouldn’t it? —I murmured against his lips—. I don’t know if I’m ready for someone like you.

My hand climbed on its own up his arm, tracing the muscle beneath his shirt.

—I know it’s a risk —he said, rough, eager—. But sometimes the biggest risks bring the best rewards.

His breath was thick with aged whiskey and something else, something that made me dizzy. I smiled right near his mouth and, without thinking too hard about it, slowly ran my tongue over his lip without breaking eye contact. A dull sound rumbled in his chest. His hands tightened on me, one tangling in my hair and the other spread across my back, pulling me closer.

—You’re playing with fire, baby —he growled—. Keep provoking me like this and I’m going to have to show you how far I can go.

Then I was the one who closed the distance. I kissed him with all the desire I’d been holding back since he sat down beside me, biting his lower lip, marking it. He gasped into the kiss. My hands roamed over his chest and back; his fingers sank into my hair and tugged to pull me even closer.

—I want more than this —I said, breaking away just enough to catch my breath.

—You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? —His big hand slid down to grab me and pulled me against the bulge already straining in his pants—. Come on. There are too many people here.

I gave him my hand and let him lead me away. He laced his fingers through mine and we started pushing through the crowded bar, his long strides eating up the distance. I felt the curious, envious stares of the others stabbing into my neck, but I didn’t care. I only wanted to be alone with him.

***

He opened a door marked “Private” and led me into what looked like his own office. It was dimly lit, decorated with a certain understated luxury: leather furniture, dark wood paneling, a low lamp that barely managed to light the room. As soon as the door shut, he pressed me back against it and trapped me with his much larger body.

—That’s better —he murmured, his voice low and dark, looming over me—. Now I can show you what I’m capable of. No audience.

—Then do it —I challenged him in a whisper—. Show me, Mateo.

I ran my hands over his chest, feeling every muscle and every tattoo beneath my palms. A fierce smile crossed his face. In one move, he hooked one arm under my knee and the other around my waist and lifted me effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his hips on their own while he carried me to a large leather sofa.

—Once I start, I’m not going to stop —he said, lowering me onto the cushions and crawling over me.

His hands found the zipper of my dress and pulled it down, parting the fabric to reveal the lace bra that was barely holding me in. A shiver of anticipation ran through me when his mouth lowered to my neck. He sucked and bit, determined to leave his mark, while his hands gripped my hips and he rubbed his erection, still clothed, against me.

—The things you do to me… —he murmured against my skin.

He yanked my bra off impatiently and tossed it aside. I arched my back, pressing my breasts against his torso. One of his hands held me by the neck, not squeezing too hard, just enough for me to understand who was in charge. He lowered his mouth and caught one nipple between his teeth, biting gently and then soothing it with his tongue, alternating licks and sucks while I writhed beneath him.

I buried my hands in his hair, holding him against my chest. The sensation of his mouth, hot and wet, was so good it was hard to think.

—Please… —I begged, my voice raw with need.

My plea seemed to fill him with satisfaction. He let go of the nipple with a soft click and blew cool air over the sensitive tip.

—So needy, huh? —he teased in a low murmur—. Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to give you exactly what you’re asking for.

With one sharp tug he finished taking off my dress and my underwear, leaving me naked in front of him. He took a second to look at me, his eyes darkened with desire.

—Look at this —he said, his voice rough—. So wet and ready for me.

I spread my legs, offering myself to his hungry gaze, biting my lip so I wouldn’t moan yet. With a growl he dropped between my thighs. He closed his lips over my clit and sucked hard, his tongue moving fast, while two fingers sank deep into me, in and out at a rhythm that gave me no room to breathe. He curled them exactly where they needed to curl.

I cried out in pleasure, my back arching over the sofa as he devoured me mercilessly. My hips moved on their own against his mouth, chasing more of that friction. I felt everything tightening inside me, the walls clenching around his fingers.

—God, yes —I moaned, digging my nails into his shoulders.

He felt how close I was and sped up, his fingers firm against that inner spot, his tongue relentless on my clit.

—Come for me —he ordered, his voice vibrating against my skin—. I want to feel it.

I came apart. My whole body trembled in a way I couldn’t control, a sharp cry slipping from my lips and my back arching almost painfully as orgasm washed over me in waves. I clenched hard around his fingers, and he drank down every last drop as if it were the only thing he’d come here to get.

I barely had time to catch my breath. He straightened up and stripped off his clothes quickly, showing me his whole body, tattooed and hard. He grabbed my thighs, spread me open completely, and settled at my entrance. A beastly growl climbed out of his throat when he felt my heat against the tip.

—You feel like you were made to measure for me —he said.

And with one single thrust he drove all the way in. I screamed, the walls clamping around him as if they wanted to keep him forever. Without giving me a second’s mercy, he started moving, setting a punishing rhythm, every stroke landing exactly where it needed to. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him closer.

A lust-filled smile crossed his face. He lifted my hips a little to change the angle and go even deeper. The thrusts turned rougher, faster.

—That’s it —he growled, his eyes locked on mine—. I’m going to leave you unable to walk straight for a week.

One of his hands slid between our sweat-slick bodies and found my clit. I writhed beneath him, clawing at his back, the wet sounds of both of us filling the room along with my cries. When his fingers started working me in firm circles, I felt myself losing control again.

—Come on, baby, come again —he ordered, hoarse—. I want to feel it while I fill you inside.

The second orgasm hit me harder than the first, wild, out of control. I felt him throbbing inside me at the same time, driving in to the hilt one last time. I lay there sprawled on the leather, dazed, my body still trembling.

***

It took me a while to be able to stand up. I got dressed clumsily, not bothering to look for the underwear I’d left tossed in some corner of his office. I took a card with my number from my wallet and left it slowly on the desk, smiling at him.

His eyes followed me around the room while I straightened my dress, and when he saw the card on the wood, a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.

—Until next time, gorgeous —he said, his gaze raking over me one last time.

I stepped out onto the street with my hair a mess, my legs still weak, and the certainty that I was going to use that number. Not that week, maybe not the next one either. But I was going to use it. Some nights start with a friend standing you up and end up being the best thing that’s happened to you in months. That was one of those nights.