Bartenders.

I had watching her since she walked in. I’d seen her more than a few times before at the little run down bar she works at the down the road in town. But there’s no way she’ll recognize me. I’m a jeans and a T-shirt kind of guy whenever I’m not in this place. Come to think of it. I’ve never seen her like this before either.

I mean, I’d taken notice of her body. she wears short jean shorts and little white wife beaters on her shifts. But tonight shes in a little black dress that is like two almost see through slices of thin carmel colored fabric held together by three knots of thin down each side. Had I just glanced I would have thought she was stark naked the way her dress blends with her skin tone. Though there isn’t a man on earth that could just glance at her without stopping to take in the entire view.

After what seemed like forever she took the long flat steps up from the front of our expansive restaurant, heading to my bar. Each step revealing a sexy leg pulling and straining against the ties of that dress, just wanting to revel more and more. My thoughts drifting quickly, sprialing down into a darker place of what I would do with this gem if I could have her all to myself for an evening.

“Hell of a view you’ve got here” god damn it her voice was soft and sweet but so full of confidence.

“Me or the water” I’d replied with all the smooth practice of someone who’s been the hunting trophy of more than a few packs of single ladies on vacation.

“yeah fuck the moon, I was talking about you” she smiled slightly and ripped her eye contact away from mine and asked me for a martini. easy. not fussy about the booze.

I turned around to grab a shaker tin and apprecated the good fortune I had to be a bartender in such an amazing spot. Out behind my bar was an expanse of black sand beach, held private for the use of the guests of my hotel. But nobody used it at night and tonight the full moon was just begining to settle down from it’s zenith and provide a breathtaking backdrop for the rest of my night.

A night that was pretty much close to over. Bar was empty. Servers had closed up and gone home and My job at this point was to serve anyone from the Hotel who may be wandering the property at night looking for their final final. it was Tuesday and something told me that wasn’t happening. And now that I had her at my bar I hoped to GOD that none of the entitled pricks from this place would have such bad timing as to actually stumble into a situation I had been playing over in my mind. Though I coudn’t have dremed that my Dive Bartender could have looked sexier than she did at work… but her slightly tanned body kept pulling against the knots holding together the front and back of this two piece butterscotch dress. And as I was stirring her martini I was asking myself if those knots would come undone as easily as a couple of shoelaces.

Fuck she’s gorgeous. Like the kind of gorgeous that would make any mans mouth go dry as they stumble and stammer for words in an attempt to not look like a complete fool. Thankfully, though, I am a bartender and a trained professional in turning my foolishness into a smooth smile. Its an artform really.

And I’m thankful she doesn’t recognize me, or at least I don’t think she does. I’m always in Jeans and some kind of easy shirt drinking cheap beer on my time off. Not in this sport coat and white button up while mixing fancy-pants cocktails. Admittedly she got me the first time I walked into her bar. She’s definitely a thief.

I’ve watched her work more times than I would comfortably care to admit without seeming like I have a slight obsession with her. But once she got me the first time she had me for every drink thereafter.

She gave me change for a hundred after I killed a couple of shots and a few bottles. But she only gave me change for eighty and kept the bills in confusing order so I wouldn’t notice. And to be honest I didn’t care. She stole my mind; I could give her the extra twenty.

I glanced up, uninterested, from time to time at the sports on TV in order to not look like I was staring. And I was definitely staring. Running different back stories for her in my head. Where is she from? What is she doing on this island? Where does she live? Bet she makes more than I do at my fancy job? Wonder how much she steals from these tourists every night? I love how her T shirt doesn’t even try to hid that it looks painted on her body. I think its just there to show she made an attempt to hide the face that her bra just covers her nipples and cuts every so slightly into her skin just fighting her massive breasts. Enough to outline what my imagination was already trying to color in.

That first night watched her also miscalculate and improperly count back change for almost anyone in tommy bahama and she must have stuck an extra two or three hundred dollars into her jar by the time it was time for me to go. And I had gladly watched her do it over and over again every night I’d gone to town for a few drinks since. Though I’m smart now and pay in 20’s and let her keep what she’d normally have just stolen.

Now I can’t keep my eyes off of her. Even trying to mix a simple martini is mental workout with all of the images and fantasies I have of her running through my mind. Eventually though I get the Gin strained into a chilled glass and drop a single olive into the bottom, spinn-toss her a black cocktail naplin and set the martini down in front of her. Shes short; i’d never noticed before. Deliciously short and fun sized which made her body all the more insane. Like god built a woman based on tastes I ddn’t even know I had yet.

She took a small step forward towards the bar and pearched herself on the foot rail faicing me and in her voice, that’s as soft as an over ripe peach, said come’here. I did was I was told and she reached for the back of my head. I leaned forward to help her get closer. She ran her fingers through my hair and pulled my face toward her.

Time stopped for a moment. Her turquoise eyes were enormous but over the past few months of being her biggest fan I’ve come to fall in love with her lips. Tonight they were glossed in dark pink and shimmering. I’ve never touched her before. She’s certainly never touched me. And, though this is not the way I’d imagined it, now that I’m a breath away from her I just want her bottom lip between my teeth.

Suddenly she inhaled pulled my face forward and pressed her lips into mine. Innocently but not, at the same time. Her lip gloss stuck to mine and our mouths stayed immovably pressed together until she pulled back and looked at me.