Scene #89
If only her head weren’t split in two. How many drinks had she
downed last night? Five? Ten? More?
Blame the cute bartender at The Golden Hen. Bart. He'd flirted with her
and she'd flirted back. She ordered drink after drink just to keep
his attention.
She plucked at the neck of her sweater. The sun beating down from
the bright autumn sky already made the morning hot.
Hot. Like Bart. The way his backside looked in his tight jeans as
he danced around the bar tossing bottles and filling drinks like
Tom Cruise in COCKTAIL.
Heavy footsteps behind her caused her stomach muscles to tighten.
Just her imagination working overtime? She'd walked down this alley
a million times. It was safe. Wasn't it?
Fat, clammy hands pulled her back. "What's the hurry, babe?"
Fear clutched her insides. A heavy-set man dragged her away from
the alley's end. Locked in his animalistic grip, Kim feared for her
life.
Suddenly, the foul man gave a sharp intake of breath and fell to
the pavement with a thud.
"Kim." A deep, sexy voice called her name.
"Bart." Nearly falling into his arms, Kim breathed a sigh of
relief. "Thank God you found me."
"Why didn't you wait for me? Softly, he reached out and brushed a
tear from her cheek. She grabbed his hand and pressed it against
her face.
"I was so scared," she whispered.
"I'm here now, Pumpkin. That jerk ran off, or should I say limped
off after a few precise kicks." Bart grinned and a deep dimple
dented his left cheek.
Kim fought the urge to touch that dimple, not with her fingers, but
with her tongue. Instead she snuggled closer and thanked him for
being her Knight-in-bluejeans.
He wrapped her gently in his arms. "I'd like to kill that creep for
what he tried to do." The heat of his body penetrated her sweater
and she snuggled closer, inhaling his woodsy masculine scent.
Bart walked her to the corner and down the block to her apartment.
"Stay with me?"
Inside, he swooped her into his arms. "Bedroom?" Their gazes
locked and she pointed the way down the hall.
He kissed her. As his tongue delved into her mouth, Kim forgot the
attack in the alley, forgot her hangover, forgot everything but the
man holding her.
Gently, he placed her upon the bed. He shed his jacket and reached
to undo his tie, but she raised her hands and pushed his aside.
"Let me do it."
With the tie removed, she slipped his shirt out of his pants,
finished unbuttoning it, and slid it down his shoulders. One by one
she put his fingers in her mouth, licking, tasting, stroking. She
ran her tongue and hands up his arms, exploring the way to his
shoulders, her tongue lingered on his chest. His nakedness, his
silky warm nakedness.
