SLATER

I watch Jenna as she wipes down the counter, her dress giving me the best damn peek-a-boo show I’ve ever seen. The fabric is pretty much see-through, but it’s nothing compared to seeing her actual tanned, toned skin. My fingers itch with the need to touch her. I knew she was trouble the second she walked into my bar, looking scared but determined as she ignored all the stares and made her way straight towards me on those insanely high heels.

Now, she’s bent ...