Lust on Tap

Chapter 1: The Thirst Behind the Bar

The neon lights of 'The Tipsy Vixen' flickered against the rain-slicked pavement, casting a sultry glow over the dive bar’s gritty charm. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of cheap whiskey and cheaper cologne, but behind the bar, Roxy Malone was the undisputed queen of this gritty kingdom. At 32, she was a force of nature—curves that could stop traffic, raven hair cascading over her shoulders, and eyes that could pierce through a man’s soul or make him beg for mercy. She wasn’t just a bartender; she was a predator, and tonight, she was on the hunt for something specific.

Roxy wiped down the bar with a rag, her tight black tank top clinging to her skin, accentuating the swell of her breasts. She caught her reflection in the mirrored wall behind the liquor bottles and smirked. 'Damn, I look good,' she thought, her mind already wandering to the ache she’d been ignoring all night. She wanted—no, needed—someone to worship her, to latch onto her and satisfy the primal urge that had been building for weeks. Her breasts felt heavy with anticipation, her nipples already hardening under the thin fabric at the mere thought.

The door swung open, and in strutted Jace, a regular with a cocky grin and a leather jacket that screamed trouble. He was all sharp angles and smoldering looks, the kind of guy who thought he owned every room he walked into. But Roxy wasn’t impressed by bravado; she was the one who called the shots.

'Well, well, if it ain’t my favorite pain in the ass,' Roxy drawled, leaning forward on the bar, giving him a deliberate view of her cleavage. 'What’s it gonna be tonight, Jace? Whiskey or a swift kick to the curb?'

Jace chuckled, sliding onto a stool, his eyes locked on her chest before dragging up to meet her gaze. 'I’ll take the whiskey, darlin’, but I’m more interested in what’s on tap behind that counter. You look like you’re serving up somethin’ extra tonight.'

Roxy arched a brow, her lips curling into a dangerous smile. 'Oh, honey, you couldn’t handle what I’ve got on tap. I’d drown you before you even got a taste.'

'Is that a challenge?' Jace shot back, leaning closer, the heat of his breath mingling with the smoky air. '’Cause I’m real good at holding my breath when the prize is worth it.'

Her pulse quickened, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she reached under the bar, pulled out a bottle of Jack, and poured him a shot, her movements slow and deliberate. 'Drink up, pretty boy. You’re gonna need the courage if you think you’re stepping into my ring.'

Jace downed the shot in one gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he slammed the glass down. 'I’m all in, Roxy. Question is, are you gonna keep teasing, or are you gonna let me show you what I can do?'

Roxy’s laugh was low and throaty as she rounded the bar, her hips swaying with purpose. She stopped inches from him, her scent—a mix of bourbon and raw desire—enveloping him. 'I don’t tease, Jace. I take. And right now, I’ve got an itch only a man with a talented mouth can scratch. Think you’re up for it?'

His eyes darkened, a smirk playing on his lips. 'Baby, I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands—and my mouth—on you for months. Point me in the right direction, and I’ll make you forget your own damn name.'

She grabbed his collar, pulling him off the stool and toward the back room, her voice a husky whisper. 'Then let’s see if you can keep up. I want you to suck me dry, Jace. I’m aching for it.'

As they stumbled into the dimly lit storage room, the tension snapped like a taut wire. Roxy shoved him against a stack of crates, her hands already tugging at his jacket. Her tank top was halfway up, exposing the creamy swell of her breasts, her nipples hard and begging for attention. Jace’s breath hitched, his hands gripping her waist as he growled, 'Fuck, Roxy, you’re gonna kill me.'

'Not yet,' she purred, guiding his head down. 'First, you’re gonna make me feel alive.'

Their lips were inches apart, the air between them crackling with raw, unbridled lust, when the door creaked open behind them...