The minute any woman walks into my bar, I can tell two things about her: what she wants to drink, and how she likes to f*ck. I’m Cash: bartender at the hottest bar in Atlanta. I’ve got girls lining up around the block, and they all know the rules: no strings, no promises, and no morning-after snuggling. You want brunch? Call your sister. You want the best sex of your life? Call me. Or better yet, just drop by the bar anytime. Clothing optional. There’s a reason they call me a sexy bastard. And yes, I really am that good. Cash is certainly not Mr. Right, but hell if I don’t want him to be Mr. Right Now. That’s it. Throwing caution to the wind, I lean into him and kiss him right on the lips. He tastes like champagne and mint. It’s a quick kiss. I draw away much sooner than I would like, but it’s just as good the second time around. It clouds my head, and for the first time in forever I don’t care about my job or promotion. Staring in...
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