Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
***
“I’m never getting my balls in.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re so uptight. You haven’t been laid in so long, you forgot it’s not the balls that go inside.” I smirked at Emerie as the five ball rolled into the left corner pocket. It was our first game of pool, and I’d just banked in my fifth ball in a row. She was right. I might clear the table before she chalked up her stick.
She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gotten laid?”
“You’re wound a little tight.”
I expected her to go off on me, but instead she surprised me. Literally. Just as I was about to take my sixth shot, she yelled, “Watch it!” My hand veered mid-shot, and the two ball landed nowhere near the pocket I’d intended.
She sported a smug smile, all proud of herself.
“Is that how we’re going to play this?”
“What? I’m so uptight, I can’t help myself. Sometimes words get bottled up, and they just pop out of my mouth like a cork from champagne.”
“Your shot.” I extended my hand toward the felt. As she positioned herself, I rounded the table, moving closer until I stood directly behind her. She attempted to pretend it didn’t bother her, but eventually she turned around.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m watching you take the shot.”
“From behind?”
I grinned. “It gives me the best view.”
“Go back to where you were standing.” She waved her hand to the other side of the pool table. “I think your view is clearer from over there.”
She bent again, attempting to line up her shot. My eyes dropped to her amazing ass. “That depends on what I’m looking at.”
When she finally took the shot, her cue scraped along the felt and completely missed the ball.
“I thought you knew how to play.”
“I do.”
“Doesn’t look that way.”
“You’re making me nervous standing behind me.”
I leaned down next to her and showed her how to position her hand to cradle the stick so it would at least be easier to connect with the ball. After she got the hang of it, I went back to the other side of the table. My intentions that time had been truly altruistic—at least until her shirt gapped open, and I was staring straight down at her tits.
I couldn’t bring myself to move. She must have been wearing one of those bras that only holds half a breast, because all I could see were two perfectly round globes of luscious, creamy skin with just a hint of something black and lacy.
Great tits to go with a spectacular ass.
I brought my beer to my lips as I waited for her to take her shot, but kept right on gawking over the bottle as I took a long draw. The only thing that eventually distracted me was watching her slide the stick back and forth between her fingers.
Then I imagined my cock was the stick.
Forcing my eyes shut as she finally took her shot, I emptied the contents of my Stella. Emerie managed to connect with the ball this time, only she sank one of my balls instead of her own. She was so excited, I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
“Does that mean I go again?”
“Sure does. I’m gonna grab another beer. You want one?”
“Yes, but not another beer. They make me too full.”
“Okay? What do you want?”
“Surprise me. I’ll drink whatever you give me.”
I definitely needed to walk away for a minute.
The line at the bar was two deep, but I was a regular here. Roman and I met at Fat Cat every weekend to play pool and talk shop. So when Tiny—the bartender who had to be nearly seven feet tall—saw me, he took my order ahead of most people.
“I’ll take another Stella and one of those.” I pointed to a margarita.
Tiny cracked a smile. “Roman getting in touch with his feminine side tonight?”
“Nah. He’s probably home getting in touch with himself. I’m here with…” What the hell was she? She wasn’t a date. Wasn’t a co-worker even though we worked in the same office. I couldn’t even call her an employee. Searching for a word, I settled on the simplest one: “a woman.”
Emerie was most definitely a woman.
While I waited, I thought about the fact that I’d never once even considered taking a date here—again, not that tonight was a date. But this was the kind of place you came to hang out and be yourself. Yet I hadn’t thought twice about bringing Emerie here. It was nice to spend time with a woman who I knew would be comfortable in an underground pool hall slash dive bar. It was a bonus that she was sexy as shit.
I was only gone a few minutes, but when I returned to the pool table, there was a guy talking to Emerie. A pang of good ol’ male jealousy sprang to life inside of me. Resisting the urge to tell him to beat it, I opted to make the guy feel uncomfortable until he slithered away.