Read Baited for Free Online Page B

is ninety percent of the job.”
    “Lady, you don’t know mundane.”
    We compared notes on job duties and I conceded that her office work was more tedious than mine. Our laughter somehow prompted her date Jeff to interrupt, cutting short our getting to know each other time.  
    I excused myself to use the bathroom, debating on whether to use the nicer facilities in Martinez’ private office suite. But I suspected afterward I’d crawl between his 1000 count sheets and sack out due to my slightly inebriated state.
    Big Mike beckoned me over after I exited the ladies room in the bar, but I waved him off. I paused before heading to the back booth, noticing that the sextet had completely overtaken my space. My eyes narrowed. Fuckers were dead if they were swilling my tequila. When I saw no sign of the bottle, I assumed Reena had picked it up. As I watched them interact, it wasn’t that they’d encroached on my space that had me feeling melancholy, but they’d coupled up. If I returned I’d be a seventh wheel.
    Nothing new about that.
    I backtracked to the juke box. I’d never spent enough time at the front of the bar to peruse the music selection. Pretty much solid biker tunes: ZZ Top, Skynyrd, CCR, Neil Young, The Rolling Stones and a multitude of one-hit wonder bands from the 70s. In other words; all crap.
    I’d just decided none of this music was worth even a lousy quarter, when I felt him move in behind me. His hard body. His soft lips on the back of my head. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. Leather. Motorcycle exhaust. The heated scent of his skin.
    The man had the uncanny ability to appear when I needed him.
    Martinez placed his hands on my hips and buried his face in my hair. He stayed like that for several long moments.  
    I had to wonder if his show of affection was because the bar was nearly empty and few could witness the softer side of El Presidente.
    “Blondie.” His raspy voice set little electric charges across my skin, zipping in a line down the back of my body from the nape of my neck to my heels.
    Rather than melt against him like I wanted to, I said, “Did Big Mike tattle on me? Because I swear I didn’t come into Fat Bob’s looking for trouble.”
    “Trouble seems to find you, regardless.”
    “Not tonight.”
    “Happy as I am to hear that, I gotta ask what’s going on.”
    “Why…whatever do you mean?” I didn’t simper well and Martinez snorted.
    “Why Jimmer called to chew my ass about why you’re acting all depressed and shit?”
    I spun around and Tony boxed me against the jukebox. Upon seeing his stunning face, I couldn’t blame the girly sigh because of too much booze. Even as long as we’d been together I still got that little flip in my stomach when I was this close to him, completely lured in by his looks and his compelling don’t-fuck-with-me-vibe. My gaze traveled over his smooth, golden skin, highlighted by the sculpted lines of his cheekbones and strong jaw. His assessing brown eyes could ignite a fire in me or send a shiver of fear straight to my soul. His full lips hid beautiful white teeth that formed the most devastating smile I’d ever seen.
    Not that he was smiling at me now.
    I slid my hands up his chest and twined my fingers in the mass of silky black hair that brushed his collarbones.
    He let me. Another rarity.
    Our eyes met. “You’re here because you missed me, huh?” I cooed.
    “Answer the question.”
    So much for my sex-kitten act. “I’m not depressed. Just trying to kill some time. Make new friends.”
    “Why?”
    “Why what? Why did Jimmer say I was depressed? Maybe because I called him and complained of boredom, hoping to entice him into hanging out with me, which he did.”
    “Not that. Why are you trying to make friends in the back room of my bar?”
    “Because I don’t have any friends at the front of your bar?” I joked. Well, half-joked really.
    No change in his expression. He just studied me.  
    And like always, I buckled