Bar Romance

Alyssa Bounty stands behind the bar, wiping glasses, when Kristof Cale drops onto a stool like he owns the place. She shoots him one look, throws the rag down, and vaults the counter. They’re already tangled before either of them breathes. His hands are everywhere—her waist, her hips, her ass—like he’s checking she’s real. She pushes her foot into his lap and he grabs it like he just found gold. Tongue on her nipple next, sucking loud and sloppy while she laughs through a moan. Now it’s all feet: heels pressed to his face, toes tracing his mouth, that slow footjob that could knock the bar stool over. Pure ridiculous, sticky, laugh-crying pleasure.