Get Your Freak On

By: Parker Gibson

Drunk In Love With the Bartender (Screaming Orgasms Book 1)


The Dubai Billionaire



Chapter One


I had his phone number in my hand. Those seven digits were written on a crumpled piece of napkin. As I pressed the rough paper against my lips, I could still smell him. On that night, when we met, we drank Tequila. Together, as Brad manned the bar, he poured an endless amount of liquor for me. I was in pain, having just broken up with my boyfriend, and all I wanted was for me to just be able to get over him. Forget about my troubles and indulge in the moment. And in that moment, as I sat at the bar, with my soft and creamy arms leaned against the hard wood countertop, Brad became my new obsession. He was teasing me with each shot of Tequila. Holding the bottle high up over his shoulder, building up the pressure, as the liquor poured into my glass like a virile stream. I wanted him that night. To be inside me. All of me. Every part of my body wanted his lush lips against it. There was an insatiable craving that he aroused in me, from just looking at him. A burning desire that no drink could extinguish. There was only one thing that could satisfy me. Him.

"If you keep making these drinks dirty, I don't think I'll be able to make it home."

The light from his radiant smile, made me shift in my seat. I looked down at his big hands. Admiring the way his veins bulged as he cut into the limes. If only the people here weren't around. I'd waste no time getting undressed. Climbing up on this bar and ripping off my shirt. I would want that lime. That liquor. That salt. And more importantly, that tongue dancing all over my belly. The thoughts of how sweet that would feel to have this man, a man that I barely know, tongue me down makes my nipples hard. I wonder does he suck he like to suck on them?

He leaned forward and replied, "I'm cutting you off. And I'm gonna call you a cab."

"How am I getting home?"

He placed his hand on my hand and rubbed it. "I'm calling you a cab now." In one swift motion, the shot glass was snatched from my hand.

"But I drove myself here."

"Fork them over." He motioned his hand open for me to hand him over my car keys. He took a pen, and started to scribble something down. He said, "Here's my number. When you sober up, call me. The night's still young."

Although I was extremely horny, Brad was right. I was in no condition to drive myself home. I handed him over my keys and sat at the bar with my arms crossed. His fingers pinched my cheek as he grabbed the cordless phone, and dialed the number for a cab.

I went home, and as soon as I got inside, I locked my doors and crashed. Four hours later, I woke up, tipsy but not as drunk as I had been earlier that night.

Despite the fact that it was now about quarter to two, I decided to call him. When he answered, I could hear music playing in the background. He must still be at the club.

"I was hoping that you would call."

I smiled and twisted my finger around my hair.

"I've got some errands to run, early in the morning. Could you bring my car to me tonight."

"Sure," he replied in his low gravel. "Give me about thirty minutes to close out my shift and wrap things up here."

"Okay. Great. I'll text you my address."

"Cool. I won't keep you waiting very long."

Those last words he spoke sent a chill down the edge of my spine. I was feverish. I've never done anything quite like this before. Hooking up, just wasn't my thing. I've always been the relationship type of girl. The one always eager to commit, hoping that prince charming would come along and realize how much of a prize that I am. Together, we'd drift off into the sunset and have kids and life would be great. But then I met Craig, and let's just say, he made me wish that I hadn't waited three years to have sex with him. Not only was he horrible in bed, I gave him my virginity, only to find out that he was fucking other women.

That sweet, good girl that I used to be is now long gone.





Chapter Two


As I sat on my couch, the clock seemed like it wasn't moving fast enough. The longer time seemed to stall, the more nervous I became. Then suddenly, just as I was beginning to regret having him come over, there was a knock on my door.

I answered it immediately, and when I saw him, every trace of doubt fled my mind.

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