Feeling Lucky?

...by Stephanie

I watched as he sat there, sipping his drink, looking a little lost. The cards were spread out before him, a winning hand? Maybe. It was hard to tell from where I stood. He finished his drink and motioned to me for another. As I mixed his screwdriver I got a better look at him. The long hair, full lips, a handsome man that’s for sure. His eyes were closed, but that didn’t matter. He was still the best looking man in the place, though that wasn’t hard to do here. Hearing the snick of glass against the wood of the bar he opened his eyes and I found myself gazing into the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen, and believe me, working here, I have seen plenty. One could almost lose herself in those eyes. Many probably had. He brought his gaze up from the glass, over my tight t-shirt, pausing at the vee between my breasts and then continuing up to my face.

Now, I am not a raving beauty by any stretch of the imagination, but I haven’t turned any stomachs so far as I know. I had pulled my dark curly tresses into a ponytail that night so there was no hiding my face behind it. His blue eyes locked on my violet ones and his expression changed from lost to lust. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing working here?” I flashed him a smile, how many times had I heard that line before? “I like to eat so I have to work somewhere.” He nodded. I pointed at the cards lying in front of him, “no luck tonight?” He shook his head, “not my night I guess.”

He stayed until the end of my shift. Watching as I refilled drinks, washed glasses, wiped down the bar. I felt his eyes on me all night, it was a bit unnerving if not more than a little arousing. I felt myself growing more agitated the closer it got to closing time. At last call he waved me over and asked for one more. I looked at him, “you sure you can handle it?” He raised his eyes to mine, they had gone almost midnight blue with desire, “I can handle anything you got baby.”

As I made his drink I glanced around the bar, the tables were all empty. The last person was walking out the door. I set the drink down in front of him and walked to the door and locked it. His eyes followed my every move. I walked back over to him, took the drink from his hand and set it on the bar. Turning him to face me I straddled him on the barstool. He ran his hands up my sides and leaned in for a kiss. He stopped, his mouth a breath away from mine. “I think my luck is changing.”