Bar Tricks: Tricks Series, #2

By N Kuhn

Let the drinks and inhibitions flow. We all hear about people hooking up in bars, but this isn’t your average drunk hook up. Set of Short Erotic Stories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: N Kuhn
• Release date: Apr 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498911450

N Kuhn

N Kuhn grew up in a small town in Western New York. Having spent her afternoons outside or with a book, she grew up with a love of reading and writing. Her mother and grandmother fully encouraged this in her. Many years later, after a husband and children, she made a promise to her dying grandmother to fulfill her dream of being an author. Her grandmother lived to see N's name in print. This was a turning moment for her. Driven by ambition and a promise made, she has since published several titles including the Mohawk Trilogy, Tucked In, Buffalo Rocker and the Tricks series. N Kuhn has several other books that will be out later this year. When she's not writing, she is in college for a Business degree, runs her blog, bartends and promotes for other authors. Family and coffee are her two staples in life.

Book preview

I’d like to thank my fans. Those who read and loved Parlor Tricks, those who are new to my books, and really all of those who just love reading. Bar Tricks is more stories and more sex than Parlor Tricks. But then again, anytime alcohol is involved things get sexier and dirtier! I hope you all enjoy. This one’s for you.

Bar Jovi

The Club

Ryder’s

Strip Tease

Ex Drama

Bridal Party

Bar Jovi

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Lugging the two cases of Labatt Blue up the stairs, I shudder. The basement here at Bar Jovi is creepy. I always avoid it if I can. It’s dark, low ceiling and supposedly haunted. Most times at night I would send Tommy the bouncer down for me. But he doesn’t start until seven and of course Kate didn’t stock at the end of her shift last night. She’s not going to last long around here. None of these little college girls do. They think bartending will land them a rich man if they dress slutty enough. When they figure out the Bon Jovi themed bar caters to poor college kids, drunk frat boys, and skeezy old guys, they bolt faster than they can say I quit. I’ve been here four years now, and Pauly, the owner still treats me like a new girl. That’s probably because I’m the only girl here that won’t sleep with him, or because he’s just a chauvinist pig. It’s not that he’s ugly, if you like oily Italian hairy men. He has a lot of muscles, a baby face, and an affliction for Bon Jovi and bad eighties music. But I don’t like being a number. I want to be someone special and with Pauly, everything and everyone is a number.

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Not that this job allows me to meet anyone special, but a girl can hope. It’s all regulars and most of them call me Chas instead of Chasity. I’m one of the guys. I do shots with them, drink behind the bar and talk sports. I can't help it. Growing up with three brothers and their friends, I ended up with more guy friends than girls. If I did have a girlfriend she ended up just using me to get to one of my brothers. Plus, as the baby it was hard to date. Over protective doesn't even begin to describe my family. That's probably why I'm the only twenty five year old virgin I know. My brothers intimidated more men then I could possibly meet. I barely even go out anymore. It’s just my luck that I hook up with a guy, and one of my brothers or their friends show up. It’s happened more than once. So now, I just work, go home and read, and that’s about it.

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Dropping the cases of beer on the floor, I crouch down to fill the coolers.

Nice, pink thong.

The deep voice that I could pick out blindfolded belongs to Bryan. He is the only customer here I would ever consider being with. He's hot, shaggy blonde hair, green eyes and has a sexy husky voice. He comes in with friends, drinks soda all night, but has fun dancing and flirting. Too bad he's a player. Every night I watch him leave with some drunk college chick or groups of them. That’s a huge turn off to me. Why guys think its great is beyond me.

Thanks Bry, I feel my cheeks blush, You’re here early. Want a Coke?

I try to covertly pull my pants up. His smile widens and it sends a shiver through my body. Involuntarily I’m trapped by those alluring eyes, and I feel myself getting wet. Why the hell is this guy so hot to me? Sure he has great hair that I can picture myself pulling in the throes of passion. Sure, those green eyes sparkle like emeralds every time he smiles, and sure that laugh is so deep and hot, that just the sound of his voice makes my panties wet. But I have to continually remind myself that he’s a player. Damn it Chas. Even trying to talk myself out of it, my mind betrays me into thinking about him more.

No thanks, it’s my night off, so I’ll take one of those Blues you have there.

Settling himself onto the stool, I bend down, popping the cap off a bottle. Sliding it in front of him, I must have a look of disbelief on my face.

What? I’m not a complete goody two shoes. I do drink Chasity.

Did I mention he’s the only one who calls me by my full name around here? Yea, and the way it sounds coming from his mouth, is like satiny softness to my ears. He makes me feel like I’m more than one of the guys. No wonder women practically beg him to take them home.

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Well then, it may make picking up some drunk chick that much easier for you. Not that you’re picky when you’re drinking soda, but you being drunk, I’m sure you’ll find the perfect conquest for tonight. That ones on the house, since I’m not even open yet.

He laughs again, shaking his head, and I turn my back to him.

Is that what you really think of me? That I pick up all these chicks and take them home with me? Wow, I must be like, a sex God or something in your eyes.

His laughter reverberates through me, and I feel my skin go all goose bumpy. Refusing to turn around and let him see how jealous I feel, I just continue stocking the cooler. Why the hell am I even jealous? It’s not like he would ever consider me, and once again, I have to remind myself that it’s ok, because I don’t want a player. Maybe I can beat the thought into my head.

Chasity, he