The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 12: Over 40 outstanding pieces of short erotic fiction (Mammoth Books) by Jakubowski Maxim

Author:Jakubowski, Maxim [Jakubowski, Maxim]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781780337906
Publisher: Robinson
Published: 2013-11-06T18:30:00+00:00

The Pick-Up Artist

Alison Tyler

Valentine’s Day at a singles bar. Life doesn’t get much lonelier than that. Flirty paper hearts were stuck to the mirror on the back of the bar. Shiny Cupids dangled on fishing wire overhead. Keith eyed the girls in their frippery and finery – so much scarlet, fuchsia, and pink. The bartender was pouring carnation-colored Cosmos and cardinal-hued Sea Breezes – anything with a bit of cranberry juice or grenadine. Keith asked for vodka – clear, not pink – and scanned the room.

Oh, look. There. The brunette with her hair piled high on her head.

God, she was pretty. In that soft cashmere twinset sort of way. He gazed at her, sitting there at the end of the bar, one of her black patent-leather high heels dangling loosely as she rocked her foot up and down. He wasn’t the only one watching. He could feel the palpable interest of several other men in the dimly lit room. This is why he moved first, trying not to startle her when he came up at her side. She caught his eye in the mirror behind the bar. He could see from the look on her face that she wasn’t the type to startle easily.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, thinking, Thank God it’s not pink.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Curiosity.”

“You know what they say about curiosity.”

“Sure, but I’m not a cat.”

She tilted her head, seemed to take him in fully. “No, you’re not.”

He picked up her drink, took a sip. Then he slid his own to her.

“Kettle One,” they said together, and then they both laughed. It was a good start.

“No Valentine?” he asked.

She made a face. He hoped she wouldn’t begin that rant about how Valentine’s Day was created by the blowhards at Hallmark. He steeled himself, just in case, but she simply said, “Not this year.”

That was good. She wasn’t whiny. She wasn’t kicked-to-the-curb depressed. Who’d kick her to the curb, anyway? She also wasn’t desperate. All qualities he could appreciate. They sipped together and didn’t say much, a few words here and there. But he could feel her heat, feel that she was moving her body slightly closer to his whenever she could. He put money on the bar and turned toward the door. He heard her shoes on the hardwood floor, and her hand on his arm stopped him. She couldn’t see the smile on his face.

No pat line. No, “Your place or mine?” No, “Where to, big guy?” She held him in place with her hand on his arm, and then stood at his side, like they were already a couple.

Valentine’s Day will do that to you.

She followed him to his apartment. There was one light on in the office, a golden glow through the papery curtains. Keith waited for her to park, and then went to the side of the car and opened the door for her. When had he last picked up a girl at a bar? That one was easy enough to answer.

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