Free Caged: Cellar Door Series by K. Pars Page B

revealed even more color than when it was pulled back for her fights.
              The dude came down to my end and took my order, dropping off the shot and beer I asked for without bothering to try to strike up any small talk. Something I greatly appreciated. Turning to look over my shoulder, the place was picking up. I minded my business, focused on the mission at hand, a few shots and beers in and I was feeling pretty damn relaxed finally. Mission almost accomplished.
              A couple hours later, several more shots and beers down and I was in a nice dense fog. The music was pounding through the place as it filled up. It seemed to be right popular by the number of people that had filed in, some dancing, others hanging out in groups.  I had blown off a few invites for convo, dancing or as one girl had suggested whatever I might feel like getting up to, heavy emphasis on the “up”. I had said no, though unusual for me, I still wasn’t feeling up to being sociable in any form.
    Two guys had taken over the seats to my left and were seriously invading my personal space which was just pissing me off, not that it would have taken much with my mood. It was the down side to sitting at the bar in a busy joint, people in your space.  Each time the guy next to me felt the need to laugh, he threw his whole body into it like it was a contact sport. About the third time he bumped into me, I gritted my fucking teeth and asked him as nicely as my temper would allow to keep his ass in his own chair and the fuck out of mine.
              Preppy didn’t like my comment too much and I was ready to lose my shit when his elbow banged into my forearm, causing my shot to slosh inside the glass. My temper was shitty to start with, add in a piss poor day and enough bourbon and beer to hydrate an entire football team and I was ready to go zero to 5000 in .05 seconds. Dude was really lucky my shot didn’t spill but that didn’t stop me from turning my entire body towards him, ready to rip him a new ass, tossing back the shot and slamming the glass on the bar before I started to get clear of the stool.
              Before I could stand up and lay into the asshole, a small body crashed into mine, arms snaking around my neck, soft full breasts rubbing against my chest through my t-shirt. I blinked a few times, reached up to unwind the unwanted arms and realized that I knew those dark eyes; knew the coconut lime scent that was stealing into my senses. My tanked brain was trying its hardest to make sense of why Kylee was there but wasn’t connecting the dots. I knew damn well I hadn’t told her where I was at. I hadn’t returned any phones calls; my cell was still in my truck.
              “What the hell are you doing here Kylee?” She didn’t get a chance to answer, I was jostled again and that was it. I was ready to take the dude’s arm off and show him just where it could be shoved; I could make it fit. I’d had efuckingnough of pretty boy, of shit in general and was straight out of any semblance of patience. My body tensed as I prepared to drop an elbow to the dude’s ribs and I was betting on myself to crack at least one of them before it got good and messy; which is what I was aiming for.
    I reached up to unwind Kylee’s arms, anger radiating off me, concentrating on the guy next to me, who was turned towards his friend, talking animatedly. It was game on. This guy had pressed my last button.
              Soft pliable lips pressed against the corner of my mouth, two slender hands landed on each side of my face and turned my head back towards Kylee. The fog of alcohol let my attention slip away from the fucktard next to me as I sunk against Kylee’s mouth completely distracted.
    Sober I would have stopped the shit before it started with her, put her safely away from me but I had lost all sense or care of why she was there, why her mouth was on mine. I let something happen that I’d