Perfect Storm

5- Tawny

Hockey is one of my favorite sports. It's fast-paced, physical, exciting, and the game always has you sitting at the edge of your seat. And the most exciting part during a game when it happens is when two players get pissed off about something, and you see their gloves and helmet come flying off. The next thing you get to see is them getting physical by throwing fists at each other.

Right now is where I feel life should be more like hockey. When someone like Ian pisses you off, you show them you mean business by offering your fists and beating the living shit out of them; then you take a breather by sitting in the penalty box for five minutes.

That's exactly how I feel right now. I want to beat the crap out of Ian for being the jerk that he is.

After leaving Ian's office and returning to the bar, knowing how Ian and I didn't get along, I was curious to see how much he had advanced me. So I opened the envelope, and when I removed a twenty-dollar bill only, along with a note saying he expected me to pay his twenty dollars back when I get paid, I almost lost it in front of God and everyone inside the bar.

What the hell does he think I can do with twenty dollars for the next week? Especially up here, where everything costs twice as much as it does back home. I wanted to go back to his office and give him his money back by shoving the money up his ass but felt I'd lose another job again—this time with it being my fault instead of my father's if I were to do such a thing. So, instead, I crumbled up the envelope and note, threw it in the garbage, then shoved the twenty-dollar bill in my pocket.

What an asshole.

The shit-eating grin on his face when he told me he needed his and his mother's drink refilled. I wanted to smack right off his gorgeous face. How can anyone as hot and attractive as Ian be such an asshole as he is? So what the hell is his deal, anyway? It's crazy how he's so damn opposite of his sister and mother. It just blows me away.

For Ian to act as he did or said nothing wrong and for him to smile at me the way he is right now, asking what was wrong, got the blood flowing throughout my body to boil rapidly. And my blood was burning so much that I felt it was on the verge of exploding.

Telling Ian I wanted to high-five his face with the barstool made me feel a little better until his beautiful, full kissing lips curved upward even higher-amused with my remark. Now, I want to jump over the bar and get physical with him because of that mocking smile. And now I want to be that hockey player who beats up his opponent until the referee comes in to separate us and to throw me into the penalty box for punishment and cool off.

"Promise?" Ian asked with a smile like the Joker from Batman.

I'm going to regret doing this. But what I'm about to do needs to be done.

Especially to Ian.

I stomped my feet around the bar, stood in front of him while giving him the evil eye, then turned around and bent over. I slapped my ass, saying. "Kiss my ass, Ian."

Ian bellowed a laugh that upset me more than I already was. And as my eyes wandered the bar, looking at everyone around us, my cheeks and ears began to burn, embarrassed to see that everyone's eyes were on us.

"Oh, that's right, I almost forgot. You did say the next time you saw me; you were going to bend over so that I could kiss your ass. So is that what you want, Tawny? For me to kiss your ass? Or is it something else you want from me? Because from what I'm seeing, you're at the right position for me to wreck something good."

My cheeks and ears heated a little more from his words, and then my heart rate gained speed when Ian stepped behind me, and he bent over me with his hands firmly gripping my hips. Now I'm really nervous, thinking either he's about to tell me I'm fired for embarrassing him in front of his guests, mother, and sister, or that he's about to invite me to his room. But, instead of telling me, I'm fired, the hairs on my back stood tall when he said, "I'd love to kiss your ass, but the thing about that is, I know you'd enjoy it too much, and then you'd ask that I kiss something else. But I'm sorry to say, sugar lips, that isn't happening either." His grip on my hips got even firmer. "So I suggest you stand up straight and get the hell out of my face by going back behind that bar and do what you're here to do. If not, I'll fire your damn ass."