Kieran scanned the floor at Last Call and wondered, not for the first time, which of the men in the crowd would be the one to fuck his girlfriend. Next to him, Eve argued with the bartender, her voice husky and nervous. “I’m not discounting tradition. I just wonder about the symbolism.” “You’d have to ask the owner, ma’am. But it’s a drink with layers. A top and a bottom.” Eve’s cheeks heated, and Kieran heard the way her heart raced even over the loud music and the noise from the dance floor. “Oh.” “Do you want to order one?” The flashing lights hurt his eyes, and the music was loud enough to rattle even normal eardrums. His supersensitive ones were starting to question the wisdom of coming to the club. Still, it had taken him the better part of six months to convince Eve to come with him, and he wasn’t going to leave without getting what he’d come for. So he turned and glanced at the menu in Eve’s trembling hand. “The Sunrise means you’re looking for a top, right?”
What do You think about Tequila Sunrise (Last Call #3)?
