Enigma leaned over a table, her see through tank top giving a glimpse of the tiny bikini top she wore. "Ya fellows actually going to order to just sit on yer ass?"
"Well I know one thing I'd like," one of the truckers said, his hand sliding over her ass. She reached down, grabbing his hand and with a sweet, warm smile, broke his wrist, slamming his hand against the table and shattering two fingers. "Not for sale, kitten," she said, straightening and leaving the man screaming in pain behind her, grabbing two beer refills for another table who were enjoying the sunset over the beach outside.