Nightfall (8 page)

Time to head to After Hours and Selene. And what was sure to
be an erotic battle of wills. He couldn’t wait.

* * * * *

The dashboard clock on Quinn’s truck read eleven o’clock
when he finally pulled into the parking area at the rear of After Hours and let
himself in through the backdoor. Despite his full intent to be there earlier,
Johnny had intercepted him to go over some things, which led to a couple phone
calls in his office, where the stack of paperwork waiting for his attention
couldn’t be ignored.

So here he was, three hours later than he’d intended. He
reasoned that was okay though. If this—hiring her as manager—was to work, he
needed to give her room to establish herself. Let the patrons see her as the
person in charge. He’d still come early enough to see how she was doing. All in
all, this was probably the best time to do it. Any problems she’d had would be
obvious.

He looked at the coiled whip he held in his hand and the
leather chaps draped over one arm and shook his head, hardly able to believe he
had actually brought them with him. A kaleidoscope of erotic images danced in
his head as he opened the office door and placed them on his desk. He
visualized her naked with the whip in her hand, flicking her wrist to make the
thin strip of leather dance in the air as he did when herding cattle. In his
mind he was also naked, except for the chaps, and facing away from her, hands
pressed to the wall. He could almost hear the hiss of the single tail in the
air and his buttocks clenched in anticipation.

Jesus, Pedraza.
Despite all his self admonitions, the
second he stepped into the building, those desires surged back to the
forefront.
Don’t be a pussy. Unless that’s part of wanting to be a sissy-boy
submissive too.

His jaw hardened along with his resolve.
She’s
only
in charge of the bar.

The office had already been reorganized, a new system in
place that made it easy to see which invoices were paid, which were pending,
everything in a commonsense, neat filing system. She’d also laid out reports on
the now clean desk that made it clear she’d expected him to come in and take a
look. Reports evaluating inventory versus sales, legible notes in the margins
of what product could be cut, which should be added. A cost estimate and sketch
of interior design adjustments to spruce up the bar area and encourage more
liquor purchases. A scaled-down but more appealing menu of bar food choices,
integrating some local flavor with traditional comfort foods.

All in less than twenty-four hours. Was the woman even real?

He couldn’t find anything that didn’t seem like a good idea
or not affordable on the current income level. Given that word of mouth had
obviously turned out a big local crowd this week to check out the new help, it
was a good bet they’d keep coming back.

As he left the office and headed to the main floor, the good
impressions just multiplied. The air was filled with a mixture of voices and
music, but tonight they seemed to be less raucous than usual. Not subdued,
exactly, but…tempered. People having a good time, but not out of control like
rowdy schoolchildren.

Standing at the hallway entrance, he assessed the situation.
All the tables were taken, as were most of the bar stools. A few couples were
on the dance floor moving to the music. He wasn’t sure what they were doing
could actually be called dancing, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Laughter
was a punctuation mark in the blend of noises and shockingly no one was
fighting or falling-down drunk.

Maria wove between the tables, serving tray balanced on one
hand, smiling as she delivered the orders. A pink t-shirt with some kind of
sparkle on it and boot-cut jeans covered her curves. Her thick hair was pulled
back in a ponytail that bounced with each step. No one was grabbing for her
body parts or making lewd remarks.

The tantalizing aroma of barbecue drifted from the kitchen
and when he slid along the back wall to peek into the kitchen, he was stunned
to see Manuel in not only a clean shirt but a new cook’s apron, piling barbecue
on heated buns and sliding the plates onto the pass-through for Selene or Maria
to pull them through.

Another transformation.

But what drew his attention and mesmerized him was the
manager herself. Selene wore the same jeans from the night before but tonight
she’d paired them with a black t-shirt that made the gold of her hair even more
pronounced.

Even though there was a sizeable crowd, her gaze pinned him
the second he approached the bar. Her lips curved, the blue eyes reflecting…he
wouldn’t describe it as the easy warmth of a hearth fire. More like a she-wolf
realizing dinner was within range of her jaws. Why that turned him on, he
wasn’t sure. For a brief moment he remembered the butterfly and a strange
mixture of emotions surged through him like a waterfall tumbling along
sparkling rock.

Selene never missed a beat, even though he was sure she was
aware of his eyes on her every minute. She moved easily up and down behind the
bar, working the beer taps, serving drinks, cleaning as she went and making
sure she collected every dime due to the bar.

Quinn shook his head. Just like last night, it seemed to be
her tone of voice, her smile, just the right touch of professional reserve and
friendly barkeep, that kept people behaving and gravitating to her. While his
customers wouldn’t appreciate the comparison, it was a lot like the way cows
responded to an experienced hand. If he showed weakness or fear, they picked up
on it and took advantage or got out of control fast. Feeling uncertain and
nervous, unguided or unprotected was the worst situation for a herd. If a hand
knew what he was doing, the cows knew he was in charge and responded
accordingly, staying pretty manageable even when things got riled up.

Her smile had a core of steel behind it, which she’d made
evident to everyone. She’d cast a magic net over them, earning their respect
and turning a mob into a friendly group of people. She was such a paradox. Look
what she was doing to him.

Fuck.

He hadn’t been this conflicted since he left rodeoing and
took ownership of the ranch. At least in that area he had some working
knowledge of what was required. With Selene he was drifting rudderless, trying
to find his footing.

Moving into the barback area, he fetched an empty mug and
poured a beer for himself. Selene turned in his direction and unleashed her
bewitching smile. Heat surged through him and he took a healthy swallow of his
beer. Trying to look casual and unaffected.

“You’re early, boss,” she said, with just a touch of sultry
taunt on the title. “Come to check up on the help?”

“Thought I’d make sure the other night wasn’t a
one-hit-wonder performance. That you weren’t just selling me a bill of goods.”

Something dark flashed in her eyes, there then gone. “You’ve
nothing to worry about. Why don’t you take your beer and socialize with some of
your patrons? They can tell you how much better things are running since that
disgrace of a manager
you
hired is gone.”

She headed back down along the bar, the muscles of her very
fine ass flexing with each stride, her hair moving around her like a pale
golden cloud.

Quinn grinned. Put him in his place, didn’t she? When she
turned back, he made sure she saw him still leaning against the wall, one boot
hooked over the other as he lifted his beer to his lips and kept his eyes glued
on her. He had no intention of hanging out with his customers. He planned to
stand here and drive himself crazy with thoughts of what would happen upstairs
after the bar closed.

Her brow arched, her eyes sliding over him as if sizing him
up for what she had planned. He forced himself to give back some of the same,
and felt his cock jump at the spark in her eyes.
Yeah, it’s going to be a
bit more of a tug-of-war tonight, honey.
If the balance shifted it would be
at his design, not hers.

The next couple of hours dragged by such that Quinn thought
time might have stood still. Yet it wasn’t a chore. He moved to that back table
she’d preferred the other night, one booted foot propped on a seat, and then he
did chat up a few customers. But while he did that, he kept his eye on her,
drinking in everything she was doing. There were still some hiccups, mostly
having to do with Manuel and Maria’s learning curves as they struggled to adapt
to new skills. However, she was patient and encouraging with them, and he’d
have to be blind not to see those types of hiccups were temporary drawbacks.
Things were already three hundred percent improved.

A couple times some of the more troublesome regulars started
to get out of hand, but before he could act, she was on top of that. A firm
hand placed on a shoulder, her steely look mixed with a warm but pointed
direction to behave—or get the hell out of his bar. Barely five feet tall and
he’d bet she’d make a hell of a cooler. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been
one.

So at least, job-wise, she seemed to be the real bill of
goods. Still way too good to be true though. He reminded himself how deftly
she’d avoided his questions. He knew the signs of someone running, no matter
what she’d said. But from what? Or who? What was so terrible that she couldn’t
tell him? He would simply win her confidence, one step at a time, before he
addressed the question again.

The only other problem with his quickly met satisfaction at
the changes was it left his mind open to consider other things. He made a move
once to help with clearing tables, just to distract himself, but Selene gave
him a quick head shake. It was clear she was teaching Maria to manage her time
covering the floor without help, and when she did truly need help, it was
Selene’s job to assist. Exactly what he’d hoped to see happen at the bar so he
didn’t have to be here every night. But he made a note it might be time to hire
a busboy, especially if the income increased the way it looked like it would.

Because of how involved he’d had to be in the past, it felt
odd sitting here with his feet up, slouched down comfortably to nurse his beer
as she did it all. The way her gaze passed over him said she was cognizant of
the message it sent to the patrons—he was the boss, and she was the employee.
Given his earlier resolve, he should be pleased he was underscoring that
message. He was the one in control. Instead he kept thinking about what would
happen when—not if—those roles were reversed. How he’d serve her at the end of
the night.

She was able to get the last one out the door by midnight.
His other girl, Carol, would be coming in tomorrow, and Quinn was amazed to
hear Maria offer to come in without pay to help train her so Selene wouldn’t be
overwhelmed. Selene agreed, but firmly indicated Maria would be compensated
after a brief glance toward him to see that he concurred. She obviously
deferred to the things that were his call as owner, showing him respect in
front of his people. But was it an act? He remembered that little taunt when he
got here, saying “boss”.

Oh yeah, he’d show her who was boss tonight. As dumbass
Neanderthal as that sounded, even in his own head, it helped steady him a bit.

“Good night, Selene.”

Selene lifted a hand, acknowledging Maria’s farewell as the
girl and Manuel disappeared. She followed them to the foyer doors, flipped the
locks, pulled down the security shades. Then she turned around and looked at
him, the length of the mopped bar floor between them.

Honest to God, he was ready to toss her to the floor. Rip
off her jeans and thrust himself into her as deeply as he could. He was so busy
imagining her naked it startled him when she flicked off the lights and
appeared right in front of him. Had he zoned out, or had it seemed she hadn’t
even moved, just materialized right there? His brain was fogged with lust. She
pressed herself against him.

“Upstairs, cowboy. We have business to conduct.” She tilted
her head. “You brought the whip and chaps?”

“I did.”

Her lips curved. “Excellent. Then let’s get to it.”

“Why wait?” He clamped both hands on her waist and set her
on one of the stools, pushing his way between her knees that spread to accommodate
him. In the next blink, his mouth was fused on hers.

Oh God yes. It was like he hadn’t had her in months, let
alone less than a day. Her lips parted beneath his, her breath sweet and
whiskey tinged from where she’d sampled her drinks or let a customer pay for a
shot just to see her tip it back in one smooth move like last night. She didn’t
chase it or spit it out, yet she was as clear and levelheaded now as a
teetotaler. How did someone so petite tolerate alcohol like a linebacker?

He was good at taking over a woman, making her feel good.
His large hands slid from her waist to her hips, curved back over her ass,
kneaded in that way that shot sensation up a woman’s rim, right straight to her
pussy, making her wiggle and squirm. She did writhe under his hands, her
breasts pressing into his chest, and he groaned with the pleasure of it.

“Come on.” He lifted her from the stool and clasped her
hand, pulling her after him to the office. He grabbed the stuff from there, the
whip and the chaps, and met her gaze, all smoky and mysterious.

“Looks like you planned a couple of your own surprises for
me tonight,” she said.

“You bet your gorgeous ass.” He took her to the back stairs,
pushed her gently ahead of him, even as he muttered, “And I want to see you
work that all the way up to your room.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he didn’t want the
ponytail. He caught her around the waist, holding her there with the chaps and
whip slung over his shoulder so he could pull the tie free, comb his fingers through
her loose hair, see how it framed her profile. He buried his nose in the thick
strands, pressed his cock up against the lower curve of her ass.