The Barman’s Secret Desire
Owning my own small bar was a dream realized. It was a cozy spot with a loyal crowd, where the atmosphere was always warm. My life was steady until the day I met Javi. He was strikingly handsome, with an intensity in his eyes that left me breathless.
One quiet evening, Javi walked through the door. As the night unfolded, we found ourselves talking for hours. He was charismatic and curious, and over the following weeks, he became a fixture at my bar. I found myself longing for his visits, my heart racing every time the bell chimed.
One rainy Tuesday, after the last customer left, Javi remained. The tension between us had become a physical weight. He stepped closer, his scent of cedar and tobacco enveloping me. When he finally kissed me, it was a collision of long-suppressed hunger. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I realized that the drive I had felt for my business was nothing compared to the fire I felt for him.