His Irish Coffee (The Cocktail Girls Book 3) by Jessica Lake

Author:Jessica Lake [Lake, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-30T05:00:00+00:00

9

Lila

I wake up in bed with Declan asleep next to me and the pale light of dawn beginning to filter in through the blinds. Before checking my phone, which I know is going to be full of raging messages from Maximo about why I just dipped out on my shift last night, I roll over so I can get a better look at the Irish babe. Because God, he really is a babe. That accent. Those shoulders. That smile. That... dick.

There's a dull ache between my legs. It's nothing a little ibuprofen wouldn't sort out, although I decide against taking any because I'm pleased, on some level, to be feeling the effects of losing my v-card.

Declan stirs, but doesn't wake up when I lean down over him and kiss his bare shoulder. How long is he going to be in Vegas? I don't know, but probably not long. A few more days, if I'm lucky? And even if it is a few more days, what happens when the spell breaks, the carriage turns back into a pumpkin and Cinderella finds out she's been fired from her job?

I chuckle quietly at the idea of myself as Cinderella – especially after the night I've just had. There are some similarities, though. I'm poor like Cinderella, and I work for rich people. The thought of my mother, the image of her face, threatens to encroach upon my mind and I push it away. I can't think about that right now. If I'm fired I can get another job. A job that pays as well in tips? Without any real skills other than looking great in tight clothing? A lot of work available to young women in Las Vegas is more skilled than people think. Showgirls are professionally trained dancers, croupiers often take years to develop their abilities. As for me? Well, I can waitress. Or I can sell my body. If my mom gets any sicker, I may end up having to do just that. In the meantime, I can see that leaving work in the middle of a shift because I was horny was probably not the smartest decision I've ever made.

I get up slowly, so as not to wake the man – the man! – in my bed, and pad barefoot into the tiny little kitchen to put a pot of coffee on. When it's done, I throw on a flimsy robe and step out onto my little balcony – the one with an amazing view of a parking lot – and try to think about how to handle Max. He's always dropping hints that he wants to sleep with me. He's always dropping hints that he wants to sleep with all of his female employees.

My stomach turns at the thought of his hands on me, or the idea of kissing him – urgh – but what if it comes to that? Would I do it? In order to keep my job and the money going to my mom? The sky is lightening as I peer over the building opposite me, and my stomach is rumbling.

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