She sat there in the dimly lit bar, sipping at a whiskey, waiting. He always let her know when he was coming through, but she never knew what time he'd actually show up. She always waited, though. Because it was worth it. Every time.
She always wondered if he thought about her the same way she did about him. When he walked in after a year or so, did he think, 'Damn, she still looks hot,' or was it just that it was easy for him, no conquest necessary, a done deal? Her mind wandered, back about four years, the first time he had walked through the door…
She glanced up briefly as the door opened with its signature squeak, watching as the tall stranger walked in with a bowlegged stride, then she finished lining up her shot. She barely nudged the cue ball, or so it seemed, and her opponent grinned. But that white ball kept rolling, slowly, just enough to bump the 8-ball and send it over the edge into the pocket.
"Damn it, girl, I thought I had you that time," he griped, but he was smiling as he turned away. "All right, I'll help out with the roof next week. Like I wouldn't have if you'd asked me anyway. But I'd better get home."
"See ya, Bill," she called out behind him, winking as he turned to wave, and sliding back into her booth, sighing as she surveyed the books spread out in front of her. She let her eyes run over the form of the man sitting at the bar, one hand on his beer, the other tossing a couple of peanuts into that sinful-looking mouth, his lips curving as he laughed softly at something the bartender, Mario, had said. He seemed relaxed, but she sensed a taut energy, like a powerful spring coiled inside him, ready to snap if the need arose. His shoulders were about a mile across, his legs long and lean but muscular under his just-tight-enough jeans. His dark blond hair was tousled and his jaw was covered with a day's growth, and damn… He was the sexiest man she'd ever laid eyes on. Yeah, this was a very dangerous man, in more ways than one.
He took a long pull from his beer, turning to survey the room, and she felt herself tingle a little as he pursed those lips, then swallowed. He took in the entire room, then his eyes narrowed, and she swore she could FEEL his gaze rake over her before he stood up and headed her way.
She leaned back in her seat, watching him as he approached - and damn, the view was fine. He stood with his hip leaned against the opposite side of her booth, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet as he set his beer on the table. "Fifty says you can't do to me what you just did to that guy," he said, a challenge in his eyes and a barely-there smirk on his lips.
She answered with a smile. "Sorry. No gambling allowed in here. Boss's orders."
He grinned lazily and shrugged. "What he don't know…"
She stood up, and he let his eyes wander over her body, approval in his gaze, and he looked her in the eye once again as she spoke. "Oh, did I forget to mention? I'm the boss." She leaned closer, putting a finger on his chest. "I tell you what. I'll play you for bragging rights. And maybe a beer."
He shoved his wallet into his back pocket, and stuck out his hand. "Okay." She put her hand out in answer, and he gripped it, shaking it firmly and then slowly letting it slide from his grasp, his finger trailing over her palm as he stared at her. She grinned back, then reached behind her booth for her custom-made cue stick, polished and well-used. "You wanna rack 'em up?"
He went to the table and put quarters in, retrieving the balls and putting them up on the table, then bending to gather them between his forearms into a triangle. She shook her head at his showboating, smiling as he put the plastic form over the balls and positioned them on the table. "You wanna break?" he asked as he stood up, taking a sidestep to the rack holding the pool cues. He shucked off his jacket, then his denim overshirt before grabbing a stick and the chalk.
Oh, yeah, he knew exactly the effect he had on a woman. But two could play that game. She undid the buttons of her plaid shirt and pulled it off, then grabbed her stick, bending over just a bit to reach for the chalk, her tank top revealing a fair amount of cleavage. "Please, be my guest," she answered, and smothered a smile at the hungry look in his eyes as he turned around.
She stood nearby as he shot to break, a little behind him where she could let herself feast on the play of muscle in his biceps and across his back. And that ass, when he bent over the table… she was gonna have to write a thank you to whoever manufactured those jeans. And his thighs - oh, they were actually making her mouth water at the thought of the athletic acts they were capable of.
She could feel him watching her as she bent to take her first shot. The tension around that table was growing, but she focused herself entirely, making the shot flawlessly, and lining up for the next. Then she felt him behind her, up close, but not quite touching, his hands coming down on either side of her as he bent to speak softly in her ear. "Are you really sure that's the shot you want to make, sugar?"
She squinted her eyes a little more, tightening her grip on the cue stick and sliding it between the fingers of her other hand, back and forth, gauging her speed. "Oh, I'm positive, stud." There was a sharp crack as the cue connected with the ball, sending it in a three-point carom around the table to the exact spot she had aimed.
"Nice," he breathed, then straightened and stepped back, and she had never wanted so badly to follow her body's urging, but she ignored it, her calm, cool facade firmly in place.
He watched her every move as she continued playing, clearing the table, and then turning with a cocked eyebrow to face him, daring finally to meet his eyes. He was gnawing gently at his bottom lip, nodding slowly, admiration on his face. "You're good. I can see why you won't play anyone for money. But you almost lost to that guy earlier."
"Yeah. That's what he thought, too. Some people just need a little ego boost once in a while. You don't seem to have that problem."
He was grinning as he turned away, motioning to Mario with two fingers. "So, wanna play again? Just for the hell of it this time? I think you've proved your point."
So she sent Mario home, and locked the door, and they played again. This time, she broke, and when she bent to line up her shot, he stood right behind her, his hands on her hips, and she felt him hardening against her as he slid his hands up her sides, slowly, stopping right below her breasts. She was finding it hard to breath, but she took her shot, then moved to take another.
This time, he slipped a hand beneath her tank top, fingers gliding softly along her belly, and he undid the button and zipper of her jeans as she shot and missed entirely. "You've gotta focus, sugar," he whispered, nuzzling his lips over her ear, and she shuddered when she felt the heat of his tongue. One hand was cupping her breast, kneading at it, tweaking her nipple as the fingers of his other hand forced their way, unrelenting, down until the tip of his finger could reach her clit, just as his teeth closed down over the soft skin on the slope of her neck, and a harsh moan forced itself from her lips.
"I knew you weren't as cold as you were trying to act," he said, his voice raspy and rough with need, and he shoved his hand further down, moaning as he moved his fingers through the wet heat he was causing to increase with every passing moment. He managed to slip the tip of one finger barely inside her as he began to grind against her, pinning her between his erection and his hand, braced by the side of the pool table. Her cue stick hit the floor as she reached behind her to grab his hips, digging her nails into the denim as she fought to breathe.
"There are entirely too many clothes on in this room," she managed to say, pulling away a few centimeters and pushing her own jeans and panties down her legs. He picked her up, sitting her on the side of the table, and pulled them off her legs, tossing them behind him as he went to his knees before her, looking up from under full lashes that had no place on a man's face, full-blown lust darkening his green eyes. And then he just buried his face between her thighs like a man long-starved, and she fell back, holding herself propped back on her elbows, shaking as he sent her quickly over the edge with his enthusiastic tongue and talented lips.
He finally stood back up, after what seemed like the longest-lasting orgasm of her life, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Holy shit, you're good at that," she breathed as he reached a hand to help her up. He flashed a predatory smirk before her hand landed firmly on the bulge in his jeans, and he bared his teeth a little, his eyes closing for a moment.
"Yeah, I don't spend all my time hustling pool, sweetheart." He sucked in a ragged breath as she unfastened his jeans and pulled them down, lowering herself slowly to her knees in front of him. She licked him from bottom to top, smiling to herself as he twitched, moaning, and then she took him in, as deep as she could, a satisfied 'Mmmmm' sending vibrations through him. His fingers tangled in her hair, the other hand on the pool table for support as his knees buckled a little.
She lavished attention on him with the same intensity he had just shown her, sucking on him and swirling her tongue around him with each stroke, and within moments he grunted softly, spurting down her throat. He threw his head back as he pulled slowly away, turning to lean back against the table as she stood, pulling her tank top up to wipe her chin. "I don't spend all my time hustling pool, either," she said, smiling, as he bent to pull his pants back up around his hips.
"Is there somewhere a little more… comfortable around here? I'd like to continue this discussion," he said, reaching for her, his hand behind her neck, pulling her in for a hungry kiss. One hand grabbed her bare ass, pulling her forcefully against him, the open zipper of his jeans digging into her hip. She took him by the hand and led him towards the back, turning to him as they entered her office and taking off her shirt…
A quiet knock interrupted her memories, and she jumped a little, blowing out a breath as she headed for the door, throwing the lock and opening it to see him standing, one hand above the door, a crooked smile curving his lips. "Hey, baby," he said, his voice a low, inviting rumble, and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, backing her way into the bar as she pushed his over shirt down his arms. He pulled back a little, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "That's quite a greeting. No 'how've you been, it's been a long time?' No 8-ball?"
"Let's just say I've been reliving some old memories. How about we save the catching up and the competition for a little later?" she purred into his ear, then nipped at his neck as his arms surrounded her.
"I say we shoot for a lot later," he murmured in reply, reaching back to flip the deadbolt back in place and then picking her up, hands beneath her thighs, kissing her hungrily as he headed for the back room.