ELLIOT LAY still half asleep, spread-eagled and taking up three-quarters of the bed as I sat down on the edge of the mattress to slip on my stockings. I turned to look at his naked body barely covered by the sheet and nudged him back over to his side, but he grumbled some words to let me know he didn’t like me waking him so early. The man didn’t seem to recognize any time before noon.
“I have a job interview today, El. It might be nice if you woke up to have some breakfast with me before I go. Maybe a little pep talk?”
He waved his hand in the air and gave me the thumbs up sign, mumbling, “You’ll be great, Shay. Don’t worry.”
Standing up, I straightened my black pencil skirt and shook my head. “Let’s hope my potential new bosses think the way you do.”
Elliot rolled over and slid his hand up my leg and under my skirt to where the top of my stockings sat on my thigh. Looking up at me with his sexy hazel eyes, he chuckled. “Baby, if these men don’t want to hire you to bartend, then they’re fucking crazy. You’re hotter than any other bartender I’ve ever seen. Just be yourself and you and I will be celebrating tonight.”
“And you’ve seen how many bartenders? You aren’t even legal to drink, El.”
He looked up at me and winked. “I don’t have to know any bartenders to know you’re sexier than fuck. Now get that gorgeous ass back in bed so I can show you how sexy I think you are.”
I nudged his hand down my leg, but he fought me, pushing against my hand to feel the cotton of my panties. “El, I have to go. I’ll see you when I get back.”
“I like the idea of you lifting that skirt and riding some morning wood a whole lot better. You have time. You said you wanted me to have breakfast.” Inching his fingers up underneath my panties, he slid a fingertip over my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. “I want this for breakfast.”
“I can’t,” I protested, wishing I could. We’d spent most of the night making love, but that’s what a new relationship was all about. I couldn’t or didn’t want to see his negatives, such as the fact that he didn’t seem to be much of a worker if the number of hours he spent in bed with me and by himself was any indication. Or that he had little money. I didn’t care about that yet. What I enjoyed about Elliot was that he was good in bed and like most guys of twenty, he could fuck for hours. Being twenty-four, I appreciated his youthful enthusiasm.
“Baby, you can do whatever you want. They won’t care if you’re late for this interview. It’s a bar.”
Shaking my head, I tried to push him away again, but he was insistent. This was what I got for hanging out with a twenty-year-old guy. “Elliot, stop. I need this job.”
“So serious all the time.” He pulled the covers down to show me his rock hard cock ready to go, as he always was. “Thank God one of us keeps us off the straight and narrow. Now come here.”
I couldn’t help but lick my lips as I stared at his body ready to go. His dark brown hair, too long for my usual taste, hung in his eyes, but even lying there as a disheveled mess he still made me wet just looking at him. Not an ounce of fat marred his perfect body, although in two months I’d never seen him do even a single push up. Maybe he didn’t just lie around the apartment when I worked, after all?
This thing between us was basic biology. I knew this. He was a hot, young guy in his prime, and I liked that. Nothing more. Not that it had to be anything more. We’d gotten into this knowing neither one of us wanted a serious relationship. I knew I’d be leaving in a few months and likely never see him again, and he was a typical twenty-year-old nearly grown up boy whose only mastery of anything was shirking responsibility.
We were an odd couple everywhere but in bed. My goals included earning my Ph.D., and Elliot had not one goal. None. He had no job, and as far as I could tell in the whole time we’d been together, he had no plans to get one. Where he got money was a mystery to me, but the truth was if I cared about him—truly cared—I’d want to know.
I’d never asked, and he’d never offered the information. I only knew he had money but no job. And I was the exact opposite. I always had a job, even with attending school full time, and never had enough money.
“Shay, you worry about things for nothing. If you don’t get this job, you’ll get another. No big deal. Now come here so I can bury myself balls deep inside you.”
“This means a lot to me, El. I have to save up for my trip. I can make a lot of money at Club X.”
Elliot laced his hands behind his head. “Club X isn’t really your style, though. What’s wrong with your current job?”
“I don’t make enough money, and what do you mean it’s not really my style? As long as they pay in good old American dollars, it’s my style.”
“I’ve heard things. It’s not like a usual bar.”
I lowered my head and stared down at him. “And you’d know what about a usual bar?”
“I heard it’s more of a sex club.”
In truth, I’d heard that once or twice about Club X too, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t applying for a job that would have anything to do with sex. All I’d have to do was serve alcohol. “Well, I have enough sex with you, so they’ll just have to take me as a bartender.”
“That better be all they want.”
Elliot’s expression told me what all this stalling was about. He was jealous. “I see what you’re up to. You’re worried.”
He shrugged and made a face that looked like he’d just sucked on a lemon. “No, I’m not.”
Leaning across the bed, I pushed my face in front of his. “Yes, you are. You’re jealous. I thought we weren’t about that. This was just supposed to be a good time, remember? Nothing more.”
I saw in his eyes this wasn’t just a good time for him.
“Whatever. Do what you want. Just know that I don’t share well with others, Shay.”
Oh the petulance of youth! I knew I better soothe his hurt feelings now or he’d sulk all day. “Elliot, I have no plans to share myself with anyone but you, okay? But I can’t do the committed thing. You know that. You don’t want that anyway. Twenty-year-old guys like to have a good time, so let’s have a good time.”
He pulled me down on top of his body, pushed my skirt up around my waist, and thrust his hips off the bed, his sour mood disappearing by the second. Nuzzling my neck, he murmured, “That’s all I wanted, baby. Consider it a good luck fuck so you get the job.”