Fighting Heart: Fighting Heart Erotic Bad Boy Romance Series Book 1 Page 5

  “Hey guys, welcome to Purdy’s the best night out this side of the river!”

  A couple of the guys looked up, and their eyes kind of latched onto me. It was okay. I’d worked there a week nearly, and I already knew how guys were when they were drunk. Most of the time taking a long appreciative look was accidental, especially when the alcohol was flowing. I kept my smile on and my positive mojo working. Two of the other guys looked up. One looked me up and down. “Alright!” he said. Neither of them smiled at me.

  “What’s your name?” said the cockiest one, the one with the short blond hair and quiff.

  “My name’s Ashley and I’m your waitress for the evening. What drinks can I get you, guys? Would you like a cocktail or a beer or something else?”

  The blond guy nodded and stared at me, with a little smirk in the corner of his mouth. I didn’t recognise these guys from Smiths College, and I was just beginning to feel uneasy. But I could do this thing. I could turn it round.

  “I’ll have a White Russian. And your phone number,” said the blond guy. The others made a school boy “whoooooo!” sound and laughed. I smiled but I didn’t laugh, and I could feel my smile straining.

  “That’s nice. How about a White Russian without the phone number?”

  “Not so cool, but fine, I’ll get your number later.”

  “Sure,” I said, ignoring him. I took the rest of the drinks orders, told them I’d return for food. I could feel them checking out my backside and legs as soon as I’d turned away. It felt so direct and impersonal. I’d been checked out maybe fifty times already tonight, and that was just the times I knew about. But that was all gently stolen glances, and mostly done with a sense of innocence or play. But to this table, I was nothing more than a slave girl with tits and thighs. This was going to be uncomfortable, but I wasn’t going to lose. They sank another round of cocktails before ordering food. When they ordered steaks, fajitas and surf n turfs, I was happy they were at least moving their evening on. But that was when the blond guy, who was looking meaner the more he drank, crossed the line.

  “Hey Ashley? So how can I get that phone number of yours?”

  “Nice try. We like to make all our guests welcome, but phone numbers are off limits, sweetheart.”

  He wasn’t a sweetheart. He was a bastard, but I was in business mode.

  As I turned to walk away with the order, I felt his hand gently seize my upper arm. It wasn’t a soft, sensual touch. It was ugly and invasive. I looked at him and couldn’t help reveal my anger and disgust. “Please don’t,” was all I said. I didn’t need a scene tonight.

  “Look. The girl is begging me!” said the blond guy, to a small round of pathetic cheers. His hand slid away and I took a step away from him in revulsion. “Ashley, you are just the hottest thing in this place. Come on, give me your phone number and then I’ll buy you a drink. I promise, I can make you a very happy girl.”

  Seriously? The guy was not so bad looking, but he was the biggest, messiest creep I had met in a very long time. I stood my ground, and kept my smile fixed, but there could have been no mistaking the tone in my voice.

  “Not. Going. To. Happen… alright then. I’ll go and get your orders. Enjoy your drinks guys.”

  I turned around and marched off like a steam train. Isabelle brushed passed me. “Is that guy giving you a hard time?”

  “That whole table are sickos. Do they think waitresses are all sluts or something?”

  Isabelle shrugged and went about her business. At eleven o’clock a familiar tribe appeared at the front door. It was the art crowd, Amanda, Brandon and the rest of his groupies. I looked over, and waved, my heart surging in a totally new direction. Brandon waved back. I just hoped they would sit Brandon’s crew nowhere near table 12. I really didn’t want Brandon to see me cringing. We hadn’t arranged a date, we hadn’t kissed, yet I still suspected he liked me. Right now I wanted him only to see my best side. When Isabelle took them to table 21 across by the window on the other side of the restaurant, I was almost delirious with relief.

  Table 12 was one of five tables I was working right then. The rest of the five were couples and groups who were too busy having fun to cause any hassle. The night was busy and I was moving like greased lightning, but no matter how fast I moved around 12, it was not fast enough for my liking. Or theirs apparently.

  When I took them their food, they had moved on to unintelligent sarcasm mode. They were doing stupid drunken voices. I placed their plates down and they said “Gee, thanks,” in stupid fake accents. I batted it away with sugary pleasantness. “No problem. Enjoy your food.”

  The blond guy said something, and I walked away blocking it. I almost didn’t hear it. But it was no good. I did hear it. I turned around and walked back to the table. “Excuse me?” I looked the blond guy straight in the eyes. I was still smiling, but no one who looked at my face could have ever thought I was happy.

  “I’d rather eat you. If you catch my drift.”

  “Sorry to break it to you, champ, but your best chance tonight is with your surf n turf. You’ve got less than zero chance with me. And if you ever touch me again, I will call the police. Did you hear that Mr Freakzoid?” I said it quietly enough that the next table wouldn’t have heard. If Purdy looked at me I was smiling all the while, but these guys had finally got the message loud and clear.

  “If I touch you, what?”

  “Was that hard to understand? If you touch me again, I am going to call the police. Was that any clearer?”

  The blond guy looked around his buddies. For the most part they looked cowed and awkward, probably wishing they’d stayed back at their dorm and smoked a joint instead. But one of the long hairs seemed incensed. “She’s just a fucking waitress at Purdy’s man. What does the bitch expect?”

  I couldn’t believe the attitude. As far as I had seen, in most of a week, Purdy’s was not a grab the waitress kind of place. Nothing had suggested that, and I wasn’t buying it now. But the blond guy’s face said otherwise.

  “But that’s such a sweet looking ass. Look at those thighs, too, wouldn’t you just want to get…” as he spoke he reached out to me and tried to grab me high up on the thigh, I yelped and dodged back and left the bastard’s hand snatching air.

  “Ashley? Are you okay?”

  I looked round find the source a solid and comforting voice. It was Brandon, a half foot taller than me, standing squarely beside me. He was in one of his trademark lumberjack numbers again. He was strong, tall and resolute and as he eyeballed the losers at table 12 they looked pathetic in comparison to him. Isabelle watched as she worked nearby.

  “This fool here thinks he can grab my ass and insult me as part of the meal deal.”

  “Really? What a piece of shit.” Brandon spoke down to him without anger, all cool and collected. I was grateful. I was in awe, I was proud, and somewhere inside I was quickly melting into a lovely warmth. I wanted to be held by him. I wanted to kiss him and make him mine.

  “Stay out of this,” said the blond guy.

  “I don’t think so. I’m over here. You touch this girl again and I will personally make a mess of your face. Do you understand me?”

  They looked at one another. There was no agreement, no nod of the head, but the bastard’s drunken eyes said it all. He was going to be compliant.

  I looked up at Brandon and he smiled at me. “Thank you,” I said. When he touched and squeezed my forearm electricity sparked and pulsed round my body. It was pure delight to feel him touch me. I wanted more. I watched him walk away to his table.

  “I want the bill,” said the blond guy.

  “And you can have it,” I said, and walked away to Purdy and Reggie at the till.

  But that wasn’t the end of the matter. As they paid, the blond and his closest buddy walked up to the counter. There was no tip on the table, but I didn’t expect a penny from those slime balls. My best tip was those guys leaving. The blond guy stayed ranting at Reggie and Purdy and pointing in my directi
on for half a minute. Part of me wanted to run over, shout at the guy and defend myself. Another part of me knew it was best to wait it out, so I did. I cleaned their table spick and span, and waited until I was called over.

  Purdy called me over as soon as they’d left. I walked over to the bar ready to give my case, but already I saw the fire in Purdy’s eyes.

  “The customer is always right, Ashley! Always! Those boys were drinking White Russians at a fiver a glass. They would have ordered dessert if you had played the game right. Punks like that would have ordered another drink to finish off, but instead they went home half way through their dinner, with most of their money still in their wallets. Now can you explain to me why the hell they just did that?”

  I couldn’t believe it. I wanted this job, but Purdy was already a closed book to me. The money was great. I was so torn as how to reply that I stammered.

  “He tried to grope me, Purdy. They were nasty to me, vicious even. I didn’t expect to put up with that.”

  “Then you be clever. You manage them. You work them, you turn it round. You don’t just blow a fuse and tell them you’ll call the police! What a stupid, over the top, crazy damn thing you did there!”

  “Purdy. He groped me and he tried again...”

  “So you say. That’s not what he said.”

  I was speechless. She broke the silence. “I believe you, Ashley. But you’ve got to handle this shit better, or you are just a liability to us!”

  “I worked my arse off all week, Purdy! How can I be a liability?”

  Purdy shook her head. She didn’t like the chat back, but was biting her tongue. “Reggie! Reggie, you tell the girl.” Reggie, a big man with a soft face and deep dark black skin walked over slowly. He looked at me with his steady eyes. “I’m going to dock your wages. Just a short sharp shock, Ashley, that’s all. You need a lesson in how this place works, and this is your lesson.”

  They both looked at to me, probably waiting to see if I was going to throw in my apron. Ah-Ah. That was never going to happen. My needs were greater than their punishment.

  “One more thing, honey. You mess up like this next week, we’ll have to let you go. I’m sorry.” Reggie looked sad to be delivering the news, but Purdy was much more matter of fact. “You okay?” said Purdy, without sounding like she cared either way. I nodded. “Then let’s get on with the show.”

  I got on with the show with the weakest smile on my face, but it was the best I could deliver in the circumstances. When we were closing I saw my tips were down, but at least I’d made it through my hardest night yet. Brandon came up to me with his coat on as he was getting ready to leave. There was a gloss of drunkenness in his eyes, but he seemed steadier than his friends, most of whom were going through the exit already.

  “You okay, Ashley?”

  “Mostly. But I think if I have any more trouble, I’m going to lose this job.”

  “What? But that wasn’t your fault.”

  “The customer is always right. Always. Apparently.”

  Brandon shook his head in quiet disgust, his eyes on mine the whole time, and I didn’t mind a bit. “When are you finishing?”

  My heart leapt sky high, then fluttered back down like a feather on the breeze. “Um. We’re going to clean up, but mostly we do that the next day. I usually stay for a drink afterwards with the guys.”

  “Oh. If you think you should stay, because of the problem and all, I understand.”

  But what was the point in that kind of sacrifice? I didn’t want to be there tonight, and they were angry with me. I leaned my head on his shoulder for a moment, just to tell him something, to touch him, to encourage him to wait for me.

  “Wait for me. Will you? I’ll be ten minutes.” I gave him my best, sweet smile and his face became filled with something between happiness, and something near hunger. The lion appeared. My abdomen began to tingle at the thought of him. “I’ll be waiting,” was all he said.

  I worked the quickest clean up I had ever done, made my apologies and said I’d stay for the after work drink next time. When I walked out into the cold, quiet city darkness, Brandon was there, leaning against the wall, looking all the world like a heartthrob which Hollywood forgot. I was giddy with excitement, and I was full of a sweet aching urgency too. My night had been tough, and yet he had saved me again. I wanted my lion, and right now, it looked like I was finally going to get him…

  Eight

  We walked close together back towards the university buildings before Brandon made any kind of move. It was late at night, and this busy street never slept. Street urchins, crazies and people of all kinds were walking and mostly keeping to themselves as they passed us. I felt safe with him. The night felt amazing. I was full of excitement, hope and desire. I hoped he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I hoped he was a gentleman, but not too much of one... I was in need of him, and incredibly, I felt as if we’d already waited far too long. He spoke to me about his successes in writing. His early success was amazing yet he took it all in his stride. And here he was with me, a newbie, someone who one day wanted to taste the life he was tasting. My awe and innocence and rising desire must have shown through, because when we finally turned left away from the main road towards his flat, he drew me so close to him I lost my breath. I wrapped my arm around his waist, and his fingers found my hips. His strong, gentle hands probed under my jacket to touch my skin.

  “Oh, that feels nice, Brandon…” I heard myself encouraging him, talking like a slut! But I didn’t care. His hands felt so good on my skin.

  We must have walked around half an hour already and talked trash all the way. I was so heady with wanting I couldn’t remember a word of it. By now his fingers were tucked inside the belt line of my jeans, skimming the hip of my panties. I was melting hot. I was a bad girl. I couldn’t help it, I knew my knickers would be soaking by now, and I wanted him to know how wet I was for him. If he was a good boy, he was going to find out. We got to the front door of his flat, and he had the key in his hand. He looked at me and his glossy eyes pointed down at me. I wanted to devour him. His lips nuzzled mine, and he kissed me. When he opened his mouth, I gently invaded his mouth and caressed his teeth with my tongue. He went wild in response, seizing me tightly, pressing his body to mine. I felt the urgency and his hardness pressing against my belly, and it made me hungry to see him in his full glory.

  Our kiss broke and he whispered into my ear. “You’re sure about this? If you’d rather wait, we can wait.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  He nodded.

  “Then so am I. I want you Brandon.”

  He smiled with lust in his eyes. “Good. Because I need you and I’ve just got to have you, Ashley… But, we need to be quiet. Marty and Amanda live here too.”

  My face fell. He saw it straight away.

  “It’s a house share. Amanda and Luke live here too. I don’t want to bother them at all. And I don’t want them to bother us… Are you with me?”

  I processed it a little, but by then I didn’t care at all. I nodded and gazed into his wonderful eyes. “Good,” he said. He opened the door quietly and walked up the steps, his footfall near silent. I copied his moves and made a good job of it. There was music on inside, dramatic sweeping movie music, and I saw a flicker of light from a film screen through some glass above a closed door. Brandon managed to close the front door in silence, but passing the movie room seemed like a tougher challenge. I really didn’t want to deal with Amanda right now. I held my breath and we smirked as we passed the door and walked on more quickly to the rooms further down.

  Finally, Brandon pushed his bedroom door and flicked on a light. I walked in ahead of him and span around to check it out while he closed the door behind me. This was the room where I was going to have him. This was the room where I was going to make love to the gorgeous man who saved my college career before it had begun. The room was well done, with no student posters in sight, but a full bookcase and a nice leather lined desk and leat
her side chair. There were books, a PC and most importantly, there was a large soft double bed in the centre of the room, in pride of place.

  “You missed after work drinks. Do you want one now?”

  I looked at the door and was pleased to see a lock, like a bathroom door lock. Brandon saw me looking and flicked it into place. Now we were locked in together. There was nothing I could do about it. I revelled at the thought.

  “What have you got?”

  “Armagnac. You want some?”

  I shrugged. I had never had it before, so why not? He pulled up a bottle the size of a hip flask. “I’ve got no glasses here, but we can share from the bottle, right?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s share away.”

  He swigged the half bottle and passed it my way. I sat down on his bed, and took a big swig. The drink was like smooth fire, tasting of sweet brandy with a good aftertaste. I held back a cough and passed it back. Now he put the bottle aside and gazed at me, throwing his jacket off.

  “We’re absolutely alone now. Even if they knock, we’ll ignore them. We can be as quiet as you like. We can be as loud as you like.”

  “Honey, please come and kiss me.”

  His eyes narrowed at me with desire and he smiled. He looked more lion-like than ever in his bedroom. I was wearing my jeans, but I wanted him close. I wanted to wrap my legs around him. I opened my legs and he knelt down and nestled between my thighs. It felt so good and right to have him there pressing against me. He stood on his knees and we kissed, long and passionate. I nuzzled his lip and gently he bit on mine. I could feel the restraint in his passion, his lust boiling beneath his clothes. I wanted to him to let go. I leaned in and kissed him behind his ears, raking his long brown hair with my hands. I felt him shudder in delight and seize me in response. His hands toyed with the flesh of my hips, squeezing them, and his hands ran the length of my body, pressing on my shoulders to push me back onto the bed. I gave way and laid down.

  “Take them off,” he said, gentle but commanding. Now I had the opportunity to present myself to him. I knelt up and unbuttoned my blouse. I undid the last button and opened it up to show him my cleavage, all pressed up for him in a black lace bra. He ate me up with his eyes, his gaze flicking from my body to my face. I loved the look on his face. He was barely in control now. I rolled back down and lifted my legs and unbuttoned my jeans. I wriggled my hips and pulled free.