Because Beards Read online

  “I love your voice. You know I do!” I skirt the singing topic and thankfully she doesn’t notice. “But I need girl advice. Like now. Impromptu meeting in the ladies’ room.”

  “Ooh . . . does this have anything to do with sexy bartender?” She raises her brows and nods his way. “He’s totally staring at you, by the way.”

  “Hey, bitches!” Bryan interrupts and loops one arm around my shoulder, then pulls Lauren beneath his other.

  “Having fun?” Lauren giggles.

  “Yeah. I’d say today was one for the books.” He pulls back and drops his hands to shove them in his back pockets. “Thanks for picking me for your book, Manda. It’s a huge honor and I can’t tell you how thankful I am.”

  This is one of the main reasons I selected him over the thousand others. He’s humble and a class act to work with. Hasn’t let the social media hype and fame change him or inflate his ego. Oh, and he looks really good naked. That’s a plus.

  “You’re the best, Bryan. I’m so glad this worked out.” I nod over at Gary the ranch hand standing near the door. “Looks like that’s working out, too.”

  Bryan’s lips pull into his signature megawatt smile, his natural sexiness on display. Even though I know he’s gay my heart can’t help but give a little stutter. “Yeah. Gary and I are gonna head out.”

  “Yeah, you are.” Lauren winks and then captures Bryan in a big hug. I wave a goodbye to Gary before Bryan wraps me in a squeeze next.

  “Have fun tonight,” I say.

  Bryan nods, backing away. “You, too. Safe flight tomorrow, ladies.”

  I wave and with my free hand lace my fingers in Lauren’s to drag her toward the restroom. We push through the door and into the tiny space. The bar isn’t packed tonight, but with only one working stall there’s a steady line of women. They crowd the room and simultaneously retouch lipstick, poof hair, and adjust bras so their cleavage pops just right.

  “You needa pee?” Lauren asks and squeezes herself into the tiny fraction of open real estate in front of the only mirror.

  “No. I need advice.” I stand behind her and lower my voice. “The bartender. He’s cute, right?”

  “You have contacts in.” She runs her fingertips under her rolling eyes to wipe away the smearing liner.

  I study my reflection over her shoulder. I’m attractive. I know this. Not in line with pop culture standards, but pretty to look at nonetheless. I’ve always loved my hazel eyes but they’re a little too big for my face and non-existent eyelashes. And although my frame is full of curves, I’ve always felt a little jilted in the curvy department. It should be a requirement to be blessed with nice big tits since I’ve got the ass to go with them. Instead, I’m lucky to fill a B cup.

  “You’re doing that weird thing again.” Lauren narrows her stare in the mirror and snaps her compact shut. She turns to scrutinize my face and then pokes at my cheek with her index finger.

  “Stop.” I swat her hand away but her frown remains. “What?”

  “It’s like you’re throwing daggers at yourself. What’s got that beautiful mind in overdrive?”

  I lower my voice to just above a whisper. “Sexy bartender just offered me a night of no strings lust and I’m actually considering it.”

  Lauren’s eyes widen and she nods aggressively. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “I don’t know. He’s a stranger. He could be a creep. He could abduct and kill me.”

  “With orgasms!” She shouts and draws the attention of every other woman in the restroom. “You must fuck the sexy bartender! If not for yourself, then do it for single women everywhere!”

  “Lauren!” I chide. She’s not even single.

  “She’s right, honey, and Brax ain’t no manwhore. He’s a good southern boy. He’ll treat ya’ right,” Red Lips to the left offers helpfully.

  Great, now everyone is in on our conversation. I groan.

  A hand rests on my shoulder and a brunette I recognize from the dance floor nods solemnly. “Your friend’s right. Do it for the single ladies. Chelly and I have been trying to get that man in our bed for months now to no avail.”

  My eyes snap back to Lauren and she bites her lip, having the grace to look slightly embarrassed. She smirks and shrugs her shoulders.

  I blow out a frustrated breath. I’m not sure if I’m more irritated at myself for having second thoughts when presented an opportunity for no strings bearded bartender sexy time, or at Lauren for announcing it to the entire ladies’ room. I want to go with my gut but it’s giving me conflicting advice. My body recommends one thing, and I’m not surprised—the man is walking, living, breathing sex on a stick. My mind though, she’s wary—and for good reason. Life has shown me time and again that if something looks too good to be true, it most likely is. But that’s not what has me uncomfortable or indecisive.

  No, it’s the fact my heart is attempting to weigh in on the decision. She’s the real hangup, because I don’t have confidence in her, not one bit. My heart has led me astray before. She’s a liar. She gives too much. Hopes too easily. Yeah, I don’t trust that unreliable bitch.

  Lauren takes my hands in hers, gives them a squeeze, and her lashes blink over her pleading gaze as her lips pull wide into a drunken grin. She waits patiently. Knowingly. She won’t pressure me to do something I don’t want. Though it’s clear her vote is for orgasms. She bounces up on the balls of her toes and it jolts me out of my indecision.

  I reach up and pull the band from my hair, smooth the strands and twist it all back atop my head while I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. “He says he gets off in an hour.” Oh, hell, I only live once. I’m doing sexy stranger.

  “Fuck yeah, he will.” Lauren holds up her hand, waiting, and I hold her gaze but narrow mine. “What? You’re gonna leave me hanging? That’s five worthy!”

  I roll my eyes but don’t slap her hand because I’m freaking the fuck out. Now that I’ve decided to do this, or rather him, I have no clue how to follow through. My stomach rolls and Lauren’s eyes widen as she drags me away from the inquisitive eyes inside the restroom.

  In the open hallway I already feel less anxious. “Sorry.” I stop before we reach the dance floor to blow out a deep breath. “I just . . . what am I supposed to do now?”

  “Like it’s been so long you forgot?” She tilts her head as her lips pull to a pout then points one finger and sticks it in and out of the circle she forms with her other hand.

  A giggle escapes my lips and her smile tells me that was her intent.

  “Why are you freaking out? You’ve got this, babe. Sexy bartender is a sure thing and you’ve earned this. Enjoy it.”

  “I know. I agree, even. That’s not what I’m asking. What should I do now? Like do I give him a thumbs up? I can’t slide him my room key . . . though that’s a shame because I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  “God! Please don’t do that. I need my sleep.”

  I laugh because I’d never kick Lauren out of our room. Even for a one night stand. I’m not that hard up. Well, I kind of am . . . but I’m not a bad friend. “I assume he has his own place, or at least a room. I just don’t want it to be awkward. Like do I sit at the bar? You know I flirt for shit.”

  “Manda. Breathe. Go. Sit. Be you. If it feels right, go home with him. If not, get an Uber and bail. But you best not miss your flight home tomorrow.”

  “Right. Good. Yes.” My head bobs as though it’s attached to a loose spring and the nerves from my belly tingle with excitement and anticipation. “I can do this. I’m doing this.” I’ve got this.

  Lauren glances toward the bar. “Chalk it up to research for your next book.”

  “Mmm hmm.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. As yummy as Brax is, there’s no way he’ll live up to my book boyfriends. Boys are always better in books.

  “Do you want me to stick around? I’m kind of tired, but I can get back on the mic if you need the support.” We make our way out to the dance floor.

  “God, no!” I cl
ear my throat and let loose a giggle. “I’ll be fine. I swear. You are the best girlfriend a woman could ask for but please don’t sing—er—stay.”

  She lifts a brow and her lips twitch as if she wants to laugh. I’m trying to spare her hurt feelings but even she’s gotta know her singing sucks.

  “Whatever!” I laugh. “If you really want to sing, stay. I’ll find earplugs, or liquor.”

  Lauren’s lips pull into a smile even after she stops walking to place her hands on her hips. “Fine. I’ll leave. But you need to appreciate my boss karaoke skills. Not everyone knows all the lyrics to ‘Father and Son’.”

  “True. I’m sorry.” Though Cat Stevens doesn’t sound like a cat being murdered. I keep that last part to myself. See. I’m a good friend. I can censor my thoughts when it’s important. “Thanks for everything today. Including the pep talk.”

  “Love you, Manda.” She wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight.

  “Love you, Lo.” I hug her back. “Do you want me to walk out with you?”

  “Nah! That’s what cabs are for.” She waves a hand but stumbles in the process and reaches out to steady herself with my arm.

  I narrow my gaze, not sure she should be leaving alone in her state. “Text me when you get inside the room. You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

  “Fuck, Manda, I’m fine! The bouncer’ll get me a cab. I’ll text you. Now, go get ’em, tiger!” She releases her hold and I give her a little nod before turning to face the bar. She gives me a little slap on the butt and I squeal.

  Brax glances up and when our eyes meet through the crowd his lips pull into a smile that’s made for melting panties. At least mine. I keep my gaze trained on his tempting stare all the way back to my perch at the bar.

  “Your friend left.” His lips pull up at one side.

  “She had to practice for her American Idol audition.”

  He grins. “So does that mean I’m the lucky one who gets to take you home?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?”

  I consider his question while I lick my lips. His gaze follows and I feel sexy, wanted, in control. Empowered. “Whether you act like an ass between now and when you get off.”

  “Oh, I’ll get off, but not before you. Because although I’m many things, a selfish asshole isn’t one of them.” His brow rises with challenge.

  “Witty.” My lips pull in a smirk.

  “So are you.”

  “Hmm.” I’m smart and funny, but I’m not sure he really knows that or is just being complimentary at the promise of getting laid. “Can I get another beer?”

  “What’s your pleasure?” He draws out the words.

  I squeeze my legs together with the rush of need that pulses at the timbre in his voice. “I’ll take a Lagunitas for now.” I admire his body with the concentration of a naughty voyeur as he twists to bend over and pull one from the cooler.

  “IPA. Nice choice.” He pops the top with the cloth tucked into his belt and sets it on the counter. His lips soften to a sweet smile. “But that’s the last one for you.”

  “What? Why?” I lean away, more than a little taken aback at the fact he’s cutting me off. I’m not drunk and it’s nowhere near last call. Who in the hell does he think he is?

  Brax grips the bar top and leans forward. No trace of his smile remains. “Because when I fuck you, I want you to feel every inch of my cock slamming in and out of your sweet pussy. Good?”

  My mouth drops open and before I say something stupid, or more likely respond with an embarrassing sound that’s not really a word, I grip my bottle in both hands and let the liquid ease my sudden thirst. Only it doesn’t, because what I want most is the bearded bartender across the counter. I set the beer down, and the glass hits with a thud louder than I intended. “So, how soon can we get out of here?” I manage, and as my lips pull into a smile, his mirror the movement.

  “Not soon enough. Let me check with my boss. Maybe I can scoot early.” He backs away and glances over his shoulder.

  I’m anxious to leave with him, but I don’t want him to get in trouble with his job. I can wait. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “Oh, but I want to, Manda. I want to.” He cuts me off and his gaze is so full of promise, heat, and dominance that I have to pick up my drink again. He chuckles. The sound washes over me and fills me with excitement while he walks to the opposite end of the bar to talk with one of the waitresses.

  Knock, knock. Who’s there? Horny romance writer about to get some. Who? Me, motherfuckers.

  “It’s not much, but it’s where I call home for now.” Brax hops out of his truck and I follow out the passenger side as he slips his key into the door to his trailer. Yes. That’s right. My sexy bartender lives in a trailer park. And maybe that’s reason to be wary for some, but my childhood best friend spent many years of his life in a double wide, and as I look around this park of trailers I’m more fearful we’re about to disturb the peace. That is, if Brax follows through on his promised orgasms.

  Friendly Pines, as the sign read on the drive in, contains mobile homes in well placed rows, but it’s the yard décor that gives it away for me. Paved squares of decorative white rock grace more than one lot, while another holds every lawn sculpture my grandmother ever collected. That and the fact it’s completely silent at nine o’clock on a weeknight.

  “Brax, do you live in a retirement community?” I try to keep the laughter out of my voice, but I’ve never been good at faking.

  “Er—don’t judge me, okay, but—well, I do actually.” He twists the lock, grins over his shoulder, and pushes open the door, holding it for me to walk in first.

  I step inside but stop short when my gaze falls on the old man asleep on the recliner. The blues and greens of the muted television screen cast his face in an eerie glow while his snores rattle the otherwise quiet space. “Brax . . .” I whisper. “You have an old guy in your house.”

  Brax’s soft chuckle sends goosebumps across my flesh and his hands brush softly over my hips. His body is close behind mine, not quite touching, and my own begs him to just take me now. Well, not now now. Not with the snoring spectator.

  “That’s Dick.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Richard. He’s my roomie. Don’t worry; he’s cool. Come on.” Brax grabs one of my hands and pulls us to one end of the small home until we’re in front of a bedroom door where he inserts his key again.

  “We won’t wake him?” I’m still a little concerned about Dick down the hall. Also, who the fuck has a lock on their bedroom? Maybe I should be more cautious, though my gut tells me I’m safe with Brax. My eyes narrow at the handle, my mind and heart battling out for a legit purpose to the lock.

  “Nah, he can’t hear shit without his aids in.” Brax twists the handle and glances over his shoulder to find my stare. “Oh, I lock it when I’m gone. Bartender life. I try to get to the bank regularly, but I have a lot of cash on hand and I don’t really trust Dick’s caretakers with the temptation.”

  That makes sense. I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and step inside his room. The small window at one side allows the light of the moon to illuminate the space. It’s clean, thank God. Even the bed is made. Fuck, I don’t even make mine on a daily basis. If it weren’t for the boots in the corner, a half empty water bottle on a wooden crate next to the mattress along with the clock radio, I’d think no one lived here. The soft click of the door locking pulls my perusal back to the man of the hour.

  “This okay?” Brax says. His hands skim down my arms, a feather of a touch, but settle at my waist with a strong hold. He steps forward, just as I do.

  “Perfect,” I murmur into his lips as they meet mine for the first time. They’re as lush and kissable as I imagined. My tongue comes out to play with his and I hush his groan by sucking his lower lip into my mouth.

  “I’d ask you if you want a drink, but we already covered that at the bar,” he says between breaths.

&nb
sp; “I didn’t come here for a drink,” I sass.

  His fingers hook the waistband of my jeans and he pops open the button. “No. You didn’t. What did you come here for, Manda?” He yanks the zipper down and his lips meet mine with all the force of our attraction. He owns my mouth. His tongue and lips lead every bit this time. I arch my body into his, needing, wanting to be closer. His fingers dance along the top of my panties, not quite touching where I ache for him.

  His other hand holds the back of my head so he can control our kiss even more. When his fingers dig into my scalp and tug, a rush of need storms through my body.

  Oh, fuck. That’s hot. I like dominant Brax. I wonder just how in charge he likes to be. I pull back enough to meet his hooded gaze. “Why, whatever do you mean, Brax?”

  He growls. Like a fucking animal. Growling from the lips of anyone else and I might’ve laughed, but with Brax I want to melt in a puddle. Or get on my knees. Beg. Suck him off. God, I want to do everything.

  His hand at my nape tightens almost painfully, but instead of hurt I only experience more desire. His other hand dips inside the waistband of my panties and he strokes two fingers over my clit and inside my slit. “You came here so I could fuck this pretty pussy. Didn’t you? Is that what you want, Manda?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  He holds me to him while his fingers languidly slide in and out, his breath at my ear. “That’s right. You’re so wet for me already. I’m going to eat you out but first I want a taste. You want that?”

  I groan as his fingers pump inside me faster, harder. We’re both fully clothed and yet it’s the most erotic thing, his naughty words at my ear and his fingers inside me. His lips kiss along my shoulder and move up to my ear. He sucks on my earlobe, his tongue dancing around the shell of my ear, and more lust shoots down my spine and to my core. He pulls his fingers from between my legs and sucks them into his mouth, releasing them with a pop and a smirk.

  “Tell me what you want, Manda. I need to hear you say the words.” His rough voice is a gentle command as his hand goes back to my pussy.

  “Fuck me. Taste me. Eat me. Now. Please.”