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She meets her glass to mine and we drink. I savor the liquor in tandem with her exquisite figure. Claire turns her head over her shoulder, casting her long, brown hair through the air for a brief moment of captivating flight. “Is that a dart board?”
I follow her gaze to the far side of the room where Braddock idly throws darts. “Right, you love games, don’t you?”
“Double or nothing, you said, didn’t you?”
“That I did.”
We take our drinks and mosey over to the darts. Braddock cedes the space, whispering in my ear as he passes, “Have fun, brother.”
Claire plucks the darts from the board and returns to the throwing line. “Who throws first?”
“I believe the custom dictates the lady takes first throw.”
She swallows the remainder of her drink and passes me the empty glass before preparing to throw. She turns her back to me and raises the dart. While her eyes draw the trajectory of her arch, mine review the curvature of her plump buttocks. In her jean cutoffs, I’m treated to sight of the darkened creases beneath each, drawing twin crescents under her ass. I feel a surge of blood south, but a slow, even breath cools the mounting lust. As much as I want to bed her, Claire offers more than sexual delights. The last four days are a testament to that. She’s got me obsessing over her, which is something I’ve never done before. There’s more than her sweet ass that I want. My eyes wander up to watch her squint one eye and take aim. I think to myself, perhaps Wolf was right. Maybe the tradeoff here swaps partying for something more substantial. Actual human connection.
The dart sails from her hand to stick in the ten point zone. She looks back confidently. “Not bad,” I tell her, stepping in for my first throw.
What I didn’t tell her was that I’m a pro with darts. After planting my feet in the familiar positions, I stare her in the eye and take my first shot. I let her tell me. “Bullseye!?” she reports, incredulously.
“I have some practice.”
She steps up to the line and prepares to throw her second dart. “It seems I’ve been taken for a ride.”
“That comes later.”
Her cheeks flush, but her lips part just so and a warm breath expels from them. Despite the fluster, she collects herself and raises the dart. “We’ll see about that.” She throws. Fifteen points.
“Better,” I commend. Then I throw another bullseye.
“I suppose you’ve already won, haven’t you?”
“Tell you what. If you make a bullseye with your last dart, you win the bet.” She steps up to me and I can feel the heat radiating off her. I want to reach out and grab her, pull her into me, but instead I take a gentle approach, placing my hands at her waist and adjusting her position. “The trick,” I whisper in her ear, “is once you’ve made all your calculations, drawn the line from your hand to the bullseye, you have to let go entirely.”
She turns her head in towards mine. “Let go entirely?”
“Mhm. Take a breath.”
Her breasts heave as she inhales.
“Throw as you release.”
The dart leaves her hand and sticks in the wall alongside the board.
“Still, practice makes perfect,” I tell her.
“No,” she says, “it went right where I wanted it.”
Her eyes fall to my lips. My fingers curl into her warm flesh, making a firm grip I use to pull her backside against me. Then we kiss and her taste proves as potent as her smell, something I won’t soon forget. A soft little moan emits from the back of her throat and I consume it ravenously. I feel her ass rubbing up against my crotch and a million different fantasies storm my thoughts.
When we separate, she gasps, breathless. “Goddamn,” she says.
“That’s one,” I tell her. “I believe you owe me two.”
Her perfect, pink lips curl into a grin. “Better make it count.”
“Come with me.”
I take her by the hand out into the parking lot. “Where are we going?”
