Last Call

When Kristen finds herself alone on Valentine’s Day, she has two bad options—stay at home alone or tag along on a friend’s date. She decides to choose Door Number Three: going to a pub for some basketball and beer. But when she proposes a bold bar bet, will she go home with a fistful of cash…or have to settle the score in the most erotic of ways?

Warning: Last Call (7,100 words) contains ill-advised trash talk, lusty logistics, and an awkward reunion.


I leaned over toward him, lips pursed, intending for nothing but a brief kiss, the kind I would give a girlfriend I hadn’t seen in a long time. But he had other ideas. I probably should’ve seen it coming. He held the back of my head, and swiftly pulled my mouth toward his, opening it up with his tongue, which quickly darted to its destination in my cheeks. Aside from the initial awkwardness, he was a good kisser. I reluctantly opened my mouth wider, letting my tongue join with his. I could hear catcalls from his buddies, which encouraged him that much more. The next thing I knew, I had been lifted off my barstool, and my body was pressed against this stranger. He started to rub his hands up and down my back, and the feedback from the corner got even louder. I became lost in that moment, so as his hands eventually cupped each cheek of my ass, my hands did some exploration of their own, traveling south until they rested on the crotch of his jeans. There was already some activity going on. Although I expected to feel something, it jolted me back to reality. I had done too much.

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