Page 11 of Flint

“Why not?”

He looks to Flint as if asking Flint’s permission for the game which pisses me off.

“Unless you’re intimidated,” I add.

Flint holds up his hands, but I can see the fierce look on his face. It fills me with extra confidence to know he has my back.

He makes an indignant noise. “The two of us against the two of you. Winners get the table.”

“Just you and me,” I counter.

My challenger wastes no time setting up the rack. He points to it with his cue. “You first.”

I break, watching the balls scatter as two solids sink. In less than two minutes, I’ve run the table with an expert precision that surely has my father applauding from his seat in the afterlife.

When I get to the eight ball, I look up at the stranger and sink the ball with a smirk.

His face is red and blotchy when he glares at his friend. “Beer’s always warm here anyway.”

The two of them leave without a backwards glance.

Flint barely watches them go before turning to me. Amusement is evident in the lines around his mouth. “You’ve been hustling me.”

I keep my voice neutral. With him, there’s no feeling of victory because nothing he’s done tonight has been about putting me in my place. “You assumed I needed lessons. I just didn’t correct you.”

He laughs. “Damn, you’re hot.”

“The beer here is always warm,” Flint chuckles as he pushes open my motel room door.

After the guys left, we spent several hours playing pool and drinking beer. Of course, we kept giving each other pointers which was really more about having the chance to grope each other. Not that I minded.

The bar was pretty quiet, and no one was paying attention to us. Especially not the waitress who dumped a whole tray of warm beer on me and Flint. She apologized repeatedly, but he just tipped her one last time and we left.

“I reek,” I mutter, plucking at my tank top. I’m sticky too, but the glow of good beer and even better foreplay can’t dim my mood. If anything, I kind of liked having the excuse to go back to the motel early.

“Do you want me to teach you how to take a shower next?” His voice is teasing, but his words make me imagine the two of us crammed together in that shower, naked and touching each other under the water.

I squeeze my thighs together, and he catches the look on my face, swearing under his breath. The next thing I know, he’s prowling up to me then we’re a tangle of limbs in the steamy bathroom.

I yank off his shirt, my hand tracing the planes of his chest. I touch him everywhere, watching in wonder as his body shudders beneath my fingers. I go to reach for his cock, but he pushes my hands away.

“In the shower. Now,” he grunts.

I listen, curious to see what he’s going to do. The moment I’m in the pink stall, he nods to the shower seat then he’s on his knees between my legs. He’s staring down at my mound like a man who hasn’t eaten dinner in weeks.

He doesn’t waste time, burying his head between my thighs and eating me out. He’s messy and raw, the perfect blend of teasing strokes and soft nips to my tender flesh. With every touch, he sends me higher and higher until I’m floating above my body, watching as this bearded stranger devours me.

“So good,” I murmur, my fingers threaded in his hair and his name on my lips.

“Stay still. There’s more,” he says and reaches for the showerhead, using that to pleasure me over and over again.

By the time we leave the bathroom, I can’t even walk. He carries me, wrapped in a towel as a trembling, incoherent mess to the bed. He sets me down gently before ravishing me all night long.

Chapter 6

Ronnie

When I wake up on Monday morning and find Flint still sleeping, I start to reach for him. I want to make love to him one more time before we part ways forever. But I know I’ll miss him too much if I let myself do that.