Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) (6 page)

Aliah hasn’t kissed a single man since Hunter Wight. 
Sex?  Yes.  Kiss?  No.  But with her blood boiling with
lust for this man, she accepts his advance, knowing that she will live to
regret it.  He takes her in his strong arms the way she’s only dreamt of a
man taking her, and he kisses her.

She catches how her eyes have fluttered shut, and the way
her rapid breaths are making both her head and heart scatter.  Then he
releases her, suddenly breaking all contact between their bodies.

“Think about it.”  His words echo through her mind.

Oh, she will.

It will be a miracle if she thinks about anything else,
after that.

Harley turns away and her eyes flutter to that ass. 
She watches him wrap a powerful leg over his seat and start up his
motorcycle.  It’s a shiny black Harley.  And it’s new.  A real
man’s man kind of ride with all the fancy chrome details.

He sears her with a glance, as he takes off on his sexy
machine.  She stares after him, long after he’s gone.

Holy shit.  I think I’m in love.

Her panties feel like they have been incinerated and he has
barely even touched her.  She imagines what it would have felt like if he
had.

That exchange rolls through her mind again and again, until
Mitchell hands Aliah her purse and explains that it’s time to go.  She
heads home, but when she enters her front door, she wonders how she’s gotten
there.  The only other thing that runs through her mind, again a flashback
of everything that is
Harley
.

After a night of erotic fantasies, all staring the
mysterious
Harley
, Aliah tells herself that she has no choice but to
return to the bar.  She wants to get in those pants, but she doesn’t want
to look desperate.  She manages to claw her way through the weekend, until
Thursday night returns.  She doesn’t call him, but it’s not because he’s
not on her mind.  He’s all she thinks about.

Instead of continuing to live in her fantasy world for
another week, she calls up Mitchell the next morning and suggests that he needs
her for another night.  He can’t say no, still being short-staffed. 
She pulls out her old uniform and dusts it off.  She’s always loved the
cute plaid skirt that Mitchell makes all his waitresses wear, even if it is
borderline skanky.

By day, she works for criminal defence lawyer, Joshua
Bailey.  Once the clock strikes five, Aliah rushes straight home and
spends the next couple of hours spoiling her body after a rigorous
workout.  She gets all done up in a low cut black shirt with short angled
sleeves and the fitted plaid skirt that is much too short to be considered
appropriate.  Luckily, she isn’t going for appropriate tonight.

When she waltzes into Riley’s, fashionably late, she
realizes it’s all for nothing.  Harley’s not even there.  She wants
to bitch slap herself for getting her hopes up.  Aliah Brooklin does not
get her hopes up for a man.  She’ll be more careful in the future to
detach herself from such feminine stupidity.

Later in the evening, when Mitchell asks her if she can help
out on Saturday night too, she declines.  She needs a some time to recuperate
from her disappointment.  But when he calls her again Sunday morning,
practically begging for her help, she can’t leave her friend hanging.

Mitchell assures her that Sundays are slow, but the summer
must be an unpredictable time.  The bar fills up, until it becomes steamy
and uncomfortable.  The air conditioner is on full blast, but the steady
traffic at the door ensures that it will never catch up.  Aliah tries
desperately to avoid the evil eye continually scanning over her from the blonde
in the corner, but she loses the battle.

What is that girl’s problem?

Brandee Hawkins is one jealous girl.  Aliah doesn’t
know how her modest Mitchell has ended up with such an envious girlfriend, or
what Brandee’s deal is these days, but it’s clear she has issues.  For
Mitchell’s sake, Aliah’s kept her mouth shut, but Brandee just begs to be told
where to shove that look.

To top that off, nasty scum bags hit on her all night, until
she starts to recall that most men are total pieces of shit.  Harley being
number one on her shit list.  He was obviously just stringing her
on.  And she let him.  She now realizes his implied intention to
screw her brains out was but a false dream.  She only wishes she can stop
fantasizing about it.

Aliah’s relieved when the drink orders are all filled and
she has a second to herself.  As the pace slows, Aliah clears the empty
bottles from the bar, wipes it down, and sets out to prepare herself a thick
milkshake.  She hunches over the bar and sips from it, purely out of
exhaustion.  Her lips are puckered over the straw, but her eyes still
remain latched onto the front entrance of the place.

She notices Harley the second he walks through the
door.  It’s hard not to notice something so sexy.  Has he come back
for her?  Did he look for her another night?  Unwilling to wait for
the answers, she instantly abandons her drink to pay him a visit.  She
walks right up to him, struggling to contain her giddiness and keep up her bad
girl attitude.

“Back again?”  She smiles, even though she warns herself
not to.

“Back again.”

“What can I do for you?”

Now he’s the one smiling, teeth and all.  “Now that
depends…”

“To drink.  What can I get you to drink?”

Harley chuckles and it gets to Aliah.  She doesn’t get
flustered easily, but this guy just turns her crank in a really good way. 
She really wants to keep him smiling like that.

He glances over at the bar where she was hunched when he’d
arrived.  “What are you drinking?”

“Oh, you saw that did you?  It’s not on the menu.”

He follows her to the bar and when she catches him raping
her legs with his eyes, she needs a drink to cool off.

She brings the straw to her lips and, without thinking,
speaks.  “Look how thick and smoothie it is.”

That makes him smile.  Now he can’t take his eyes off
her mouth.  A bit of her milkshake coats her upper lip.  Her tongue
darts out to get it, with parted lips.  His eyes seem to warm at the
sight.  She chews on her bottom lip craving more of the attention he has
to give.  The temperature in the room suddenly feels like it’s spiked
another ten degrees.

“Hello!” a fat man hollers from across the bar.  “Can I
get a drink in this place, or what?”

Aliah crinkles her eyes and winces.  “Excuse me.” 
She knows exactly who is messing with her.  She walks over to where Big Roy
has landed and begins to fan her face.

Harley eventually finds a spot at the bar at the opposite
end from the fat man.  Aliah holds onto the beer and gives Roy a pointed
glance.  “I didn’t hear a please on the back end of that question,
Roy.  You aren’t getting anything until you use those manners.”

“May I please have my drink, beautiful?” Roy answers.

Aliah slaps at him, and when she plunks his beer in front of
him, it splashes over the rim of the glass.  “Don’t call me that.” 
She stares at the bottom of her shirt, now soaked in beer.

“You used to love when I called you that.  Is little
Ally all grown up now?”

Aliah glances up, just in time to catch another slutty
barmaid tending to Harley.  “Yeah.  Something like that,” she
mumbles.  To say she was disappointed would be a mega understatement.

Seeing Harley chatting with the other girl only makes her
remember that she’s not about to bend over backwards for anyone.  Hard to
get is the way she rolls.  It’s always worked for her in the past and
Harley, whatever his last name is, isn’t getting any special treatment,
starting now.

Rather than return to Harley’s side and interrupt his little
conversation, Aliah keeps her post and tends to the other gentlemen waiting for
assistance.  When she gets caught up, she helps out the waitresses by
taking a few plates out to diners, in order to keep herself busy.

With every glance in Harley’s direction, her body heats two
degrees.  Within minutes, she’s sweltering, even though she’s wearing very
little.  Without any other option, she lifts her shirt over her tiny waist
and ties it in a knot just below her breasts, exposing the black flames that
lick across her hip.  Then she moves to sweep all her hair up and off her
neck.

When she takes another discreet glance at Harley, she sees
that his eyes are zoned in on her midsection, his mouth slightly open, like
it’s watering for another taste of her.  She lifts her chest and flaunts
her rear end, accentuating the sharp curve of her waist.

She’s unwilling to take her eyes from him first, but he
doesn’t look away.  She wants to scream out.

Oh My God, he’s sexy!

She swallows, relieved when the cook hollers out to
her.  Aliah turns for the kitchen, tearing her eyes away, and takes a much
needed exit from the room.  When she’s in the privacy of the kitchen, she
doubles over, and presses her hands against her bent knees.

She’s
never
reacted like this to a man.

When the cook slides a couple of plates onto the counter, he
gives her a funny look.  “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t answer, realizing she has to go back out there
already.

“Aliah, could you please take this to table eight?”  He
speaks a little louder this time, as if she’s not heard his last question.

She takes a deep breath and smiles, despite the butterflies
taking flight just beyond her bare midriff.  “I got this,” she answers.

Aliah takes both of the plates and props them on flattened
palms.  Using her butt, she pushes open the kitchen door, to enter the
main room.

“Coming through.  Hot stuff,” she hollers, with a plate
lifted over each of her shoulders.

Harley instantly glances towards her, and she nearly tumbles
onto the floor, just barely catching herself on a table and managing to not
spill the dishes on the impatient customers.

How does he do that?

The way he looks at her is intoxicating.  His eyes are
insinuating that she is hot stuff.  There is no need for words. 
Suddenly it feels like her skin is flaming, and it’s not from embarrassment.

What is wrong with me?

She rocks shoes this tall on a daily basis.  It’s kind
of her thing.  But Harley has her stumbling over her own two feet. 
When she returns to the bar, Harley calls her over with a lifted hand and
curled fingers.  She can just imagine what else he can do with those
fingers.

Trying to push that thought aside, she clears her throat and
acts like he hasn’t just caused her to make a scene.  His eyes skim over
her body.  He’s showing her that he wants it.

Welcome to the club, buddy.

He licks at his lower lip, nibbles on it and looks down at
her with hooded eyes.  “When are you working next?”

“Actually, I don’t work here,” she blurts, catching herself
mid-sentence.

“Shit.  You’ve been here waiting tables for the past
two weekends.  You actually expect me to believe that?”

“Believe it.  Because it’s true.  I’m just helping
out a friend.”  She points back to Mitchell, but Harley only seems to
catch the evil eye the blonde bitch standing next to him shoots their way.

“She looks really friendly,” he mocks.

“Brandee is Mitchell’s new girlfriend.  She’s
harmless.  She only looks scary.”

Harley chuckles and flashes another peculiar glare at
Brandee.  “I should get going."

What is that all about?

“Okay, then.”

He walks away without another word, but he doesn’t make it
far.  Some guy stops him to talk, and suddenly it looks like he has all
night to chat.

“Rude much?” she mumbles to herself, a little disappointed
that their nightly bantering had to end so soon.

Roy, the regular, who is nursing his fifth beer, lifts his
head to talk to Aliah.  “You don’t want to get involved with that one,
beautiful.  He’s trouble.”

She nods her head in agreement, watching him.  She
knows Harley’s trouble.  But she likes it.

“Aliah!” Mitchell hollers, from the storage room door.

Aliah twirls around and hurries toward the kitchen. 
“Coming!”

She gives Mitchell a hand and finishes with the
orders.  By the time she finishes wiping down the bar, she notices Harley
is gone.

Aliah watches the clock after that, for what seems like
hours.  It feels like time is ticking backwards.  She knows that the
bar is open until two, but it’s practically abandoned by one o’clock.  As
the long hand creeps closer to the twelve, everyone leaves the place except for
Roy; and he seems to be hanging around only to keep her company.

After cleaning the place up, Aliah throws the rag onto the
sink.  Mitchell walks up behind her.

“Looks good,” he says, acknowledging the visible effort she
has put into tidying up the dining room.