The Scheme

The scene grew old quickly. I had done this life in college and post-college. I wasn’t a saint by any means. A couple years ago, I would’ve strolled to the middle of the group, thrown the women some lines, bought them a bunch of drinks, and gotten my game on.

Tonight, I wasn’t in the mood to try too hard. Maybe it was the deal I was trying to land at work, maybe it was getting older, or maybe I was just tired of the same shit, weekend after weekend.

I followed Trey to the bar, where he tried to squeeze through the mass to order us a round of drinks. The bartender, an attractive brunette, was serving the patrons in front of her. I moved in behind Trey, studying the intricate tattoo of a snake wrapped around her arm, which ended at the top of her wrist.

“I’m going to get your ass drunk tonight, loosen you up. We’re go

She ducked her head to take his order and proceeded to get our beverages. Trey threw some change on the bar and passed me my beer, then we headed to a less crowded area as the laser lights illuminated the space while the music blared in the background.

Trey’s eyes roamed our vicinity. “BB, twelve o’clock. Dude, she’s looking this way.”

BB, meaning beautiful blonde. In high school we used to talk with abbreviations to get our game on. He pointed his beer bottle in her direction, and she smiled back at us.

“Blonde? Not my type.” When pictures of a brunette with emerald eyes entered my mind, I rubbed the back of my neck and shook my head to bring me back to the present.

“Come on. You’ve been in town for months, and you haven’t met any ladies. You’re dick is go

After a beat, I complied and co

Trey winced. “That was high school. I don’t do blondes anymore.”

I recognized the hint of hurt in his voice. Shit. I should’ve caught myself before I spoke.

Trey had dated my younger sister, Katelyn, for three years. Blonde, blue eyes, and beautiful. We’d gone to the same high school together in Wisconsin, but he’d up and moved to NYC to go to college and eventually work for his father.

I still didn’t know what had happened between them, but from what I understood, he’d been the one left brokenhearted. If it had been the other way around and my sister had been heartbroken, he’d have gotten an ass-whipping. Being the older brother of three sisters, I’d always been overprotective.

But Trey didn’t like to talk about that time in his life; therefore, I didn’t force the issue.

He sat down on a stool next to me, his light and ready-to-party demeanor from a second ago now gone. This was turning into a sad night real fast. I tipped my beer all the way back, glancing back at the BB. It wasn’t that I didn’t have game. I was just tired of playing.

But for my boy, I’d do just about anything. I needed to lighten the atmosphere, so I zoned in on the blonde and took a deep breath. “All right then. Let me show you how it’s done.” I patted Trey’s shoulder and stood.

Trey perked up immediately and slapped my back before I strode to the other side of the room.

The blonde was attractive, but in a slightly fake way. Thick makeup caked her face and bright crimson lipstick lined her lips. Up close, I could tell she was a bottle blonde. She reeked of wealth. I’d seen it many times before. The ladies of Manhattan liked to flaunt their belongings and their assets.

I focused automatically on the curvature of her breasts. Her V-neck halter made it known she wanted everyone to notice her body.

I debated turning back around since I didn’t have time to think of a pick-up line, but she beat me to the punch. “Hey, handsome, you come over here to buy me a drink?” She touched my arm and angled forward so I could get a closer peek at her chest.

“What you having, beautiful?” I nodded in her direction.

She forced out a high-pitched laugh, and my eyes roamed up her slim, yet voluptuous figure. I knew what she’d come here for. Sitting at the bar, no girlfriends.

I didn’t want to assume, but hell, her body language was spelling it all out. She’d come here to get laid.

Maybe I should’ve been upfront: Let’s go to the bathroom and get it done. Still, the Midwestern boy in me knew there was a process to these things.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic.” The lilt in her voice sounded soft, cute, and somehow disco

Part of me still wanted to walk away, but then Trey gave me a smirking nod from down the bar and I sucked it up once again.

After I ordered her a cocktail and another beer for myself, I leaned against the bar next to her. “Why are you here all by yourself? I know you women travel in packs.” I forced a suave smile, my normal bravado lacking.

Her red manicured fingers inched up my chest. “I’m glad they’re not here because I’m sure we would’ve had to draw straws for you.” She laughed softly and batted her eyelashes. Her eyes held a sensual flame as they roamed up my body. “You’re not from around here; I can tell. I’ve never seen you in here.”

“I don’t get out much.” I tipped back my beer as I threw her my smooth smile, but when my eyes met hers, my stomach sank, because there was nothing—no spark—and I knew I’d already grown tired of a conversation that had only just begun. How was it possible to feel lonely when this woman was standing right in front of me?

“I just moved here from Chicago. Moved in with my best friend.” I tilted my head in Trey’s direction, who was already chatting up another woman, a brunette with a short bob. By the way she angled toward him, I could tell my boy was doing well. “How about you? You grow up here?”

“Born and raised in Manhattan. Most people here are transfers, but this is the place I call home.” She crossed her legs, her skirt hitching up higher on her thighs. “I didn’t catch your name. I’m Denise.” A flirtatious smile crossed her face as she seductively bit her lower lip.

I gave her my name and downed the rest of my beer. I could tell this girl knew what she wanted, and I wasn’t about to tell her no.

***

Four beers and three cocktails later, Trey disappeared, nowhere to be seen. But Denise had just delved into her aspirations of becoming a model. She was on the hunt, currently scouting agents, and her mother served as her manager.

I’d found out that she was barely of drinking age, which had surprised me. She looked mid-twenties with all that caked on makeup. Too bad, because under all that grime I could see the attractiveness of her small features. It was unfortunate she felt the need to cover it up.

She angled into me for the millionth time, practically sitting in my lap. I got another whiff of her strong expensive perfume and barely stopped myself from coughing.

Her eyes glossed over, and I had to admit that I, too, was well into the hella-good zone. She giggled at everything I spilled out, and when she peered up at me with her dark-as-night pupils, I cupped the side of her face and kissed her.

Instantly, she opened her mouth to let me in and, within the next few seconds, her hand had moved down the front of my jeans. My cock stiffened on contact.

We made out for a couple minutes as she continued to give me a hand job. I teased and suckled her lips as my cock strained against my pants, needing to break free.

And then she pulled back, breathless. “Wa

My eyes met hers then flickered to her lips. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing when I kissed her. Maybe this was a good thing.

“My place is just down the street,” she said sweetly as her hand brushed against the bulge in my jeans.