er…that would be SNOW flaked out.
Seriously peeps…it’s been snowing here since Saturday afternoon and it’s Monday night.
And two more people.
No not two more people… two more, people.
Yeah. TWO. MORE. SNOW-Storms.
Seems that this coming Thursday could be another BIG one. (Like we need another “big one”..) And another could hit us this weekend. Isn’t that just …wicked?
Seriously. Don’t you all want some? Coz I think we now have ALL the snow for the entire country here in New England. We’ve broken records. Records of long-standing. Amount of snow in a 17 day period. Amount of snowfall in Boston. Amount of snow and no-the-fuck-where to put it.
And here I am blathering on about snow and you came here to read ….something sexy.
Am I right? Ya…I see you over there, blushing.
But the snow…you see? That is the reason why there IS nothing sexy here today. Snow–a ton of it–put us back on statewide restrictions for driving, so the wife and kids and everyone stayed home–it was like Saturday here. Lots of hanging out in bed with the kids, and snuggling and giggling and wishing me happy birthday (coz today was mah birthday…gonna have a good time…(shoveling snow–oh wait, the Beatles didn’t sing that part…!)) and just lolling around until it was time to go shovel off the roof. Yeah. We have to do that up here when there are three feet of snow on flat roofs. And more coming.
So tomorrow will be a normal-er day…and I’ll have time to write at some point…and somehow…Savannah and Jakob’s story has started writing itself in my head….
Want a wee teaser?
My birthday and YOU get the gift! I don’t have a working title yet, but I think I’m leaning towards simply …
Jakob ran the numbers again. Ran his hand through his hair. How the fuck? He debated running the numbers again but knew they’d come out the same. They were up. Up substantially. Specifically on Saturday’s. The last two, when Savannah was covering the bar. He could grant that 5% would be due to “fresh meat” behind the bar, and maybe another 5% for her revealing and sexy outfits. But to be up almost 20% spoke of more than that. She was pulling in a ton of sales. And perhaps the scruffmeister she’d booted out of the job had been skimming the till.
As if thinking about her created some cosmic disturbance, a sharp rapping at the door had him saving the details and blanking the computer. Somehow that “NO” sign on the door didn’t deter many.
“Come,” he spoke loudly.
NO. No, it couldn’t be.
“Hi Boss,” said Savannah, as she slid into the room. Today she was dressed in street wear, the crisp white blouse doing nothing to detract from her big tits. Or maybe he just knew they were there and his mind filled in the blanks.
“It’s Wednesday. What are you doing here in the middle of the day?”
“Came to get my check–I couldn’t get away yesterday.”
“Busy pushing papers, eh?”
She stared at him steadily, making him regret the snark. She brought out the worst in him.
“I had an idea to run by you. I wrote it out, actually. Since you’re pigheaded enough to ignore it just because…”
“I’m not pigheaded.”
“Hell you aren’t. You’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met…and that’s saying something.”
He glanced at the paper she proffered.
“Things to make the bar more profitable? Are you fucking kidding?”
“Hey, I have idea’s. And you’re stuck in the 90’s. Bars these days offer more than booze to patrons.”
“Patrons like booze. That’s why I’m running a bar.”
“Look….after a big scene…once the adrenaline wears off…don’t you want to munch on something more substantial than peanuts and nacho’s? Sure, we have great nacho’s and they’re a great profit maker. But if we offered a simple menu, even had a small eating area or kept it barside–we could do even better. People have to leave if they want to eat. You don’t want people to leave and drop their bills someplace else…you want them to hang after a scene, eat, maybe play some more.”
She had a point. But he felt his back stiffen.
“What kind of food?”
“You know…something like…sliders. They’re small and neat and quick to prepare. Put them on a plate with some kind of specialty fries…boom. Fed the masses and make a nice profit.”
He looked at the paper, noting that she’d even worked up costs and proposed fee’s.
“If this doesn’t work, I’ll bear the brunt of the failed cost.”
“If it does work you’ll make a bundle.”
“I have to hire a cook.”
“You have a cook. Didn’t you know that Macy went to chef school? She’s a great cook. We had dinner at her place last week. That’s what started me thinking.”
Truthfully he hadn’t know that. Damned woman!
“Tell you what…we can bet on it. If I’m right, and you make out well on this, I’ll fuck you.”
He blinked. His cock stood up and did a little dance. Thankful that he was sitting behind his desk, he frowned.
“I can get free fucks anytime I want or need one. That’s hardly an enticing offer.”
It was her turn to scowl at him. He was so fucking impossible sometimes.
“Fine. Then…I’ll play with you. NO fucking. Whatever you want. For one night.”
Now that was more to his liking, though the thought of fucking that fine body had more than a little appeal. He’d love to shove something deep into her mouth just to shut up her smartass comments.
“Accepted. Since it’s your idea, you set it up. Not this week. See? I’m a reasonable man. But by next weekend I think.”
She leaned over his desk and they clasped hands. Both felt the same current run through their joined hands, and both pulled back quickly.
“Good. I’ve got to get back to the station.”
Trying to act nonchalant, she strode to the door, refusing to wipe her sweaty palm on her slacks. And her palm was not the only wet part of her, she mused. Damned that he managed to piss her off AND turn her on, the asshole.
He watched her ass saunter across the office.
“You didn’t get my offer. You know. In case you fail.”
She turned, half-in, half-out the door.
“If you lose, you’re mine–for a week.”
“Deal. Won’t happen. But –fine.”
The door closed quietly behind her. He spun about in his chair, fingers steepled. His grin was hungry.
She leaned against the closed door, feeling like she’d run a 10k. She didn’t know if she wanted to win…or lose this bet.
You can thank Kayla for the idea of giving you a snippet, plus it helps ME to settle the characters in my head. Okay, so you did get a wee sexy bit after all! Lucky YOU!
AS for this birthday girl? I’m off to my warm and snuggy bed!
‘nite, pervie peeps!