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“Come on then, we’ll go and play snooker. I’ve always wanted to learn and there is not much chance of being recognised there.”
Understanding her concern, we slid our shoes on and left the house. Dropping our hands and walking side by side, not to cause any speculation between the locals, we made our way towards ‘The Player’s Room.’ It was a local private snooker hall, somewhere which was secretive enough from the prying eyes and where Harlow would be unknown from the community. The place had only been open six months and that meant its clientele had only just started to assemble; it was ideal for the pair of us. As we walked in, the place was quiet with it still being mid-afternoon, most people were busy at their day jobs or out exploring the area. Perfect. We had less chance of being disturbed. Kev, the owner of the snooker club, was a good guy. He kept himself private, never letting anyone know his business. I liked that, too many owners spouted off their mouths, but he respected his patrons’ business as their own.
Harlow’s relief when she saw where we were going, showed me that I had made the correct decision. I was grateful Kev let us know the small, private singular room was free. Not sure if he could see the signs that we needed the time to talk, or just be alone; either way I was grateful for the decision. Strolling through the bar, making our way to the backroom, made me feel like the naughty teenager skiving off school. Her grip was tight and strong on my arm, and it took me by surprise as I opened the door and signalled for her to enter. With her hips swaying, I knew I was heading straight to hell, but it would be worth it for every damn second together.
Ignoring the few seats along the edge of the wall, I headed straight for the corner, past the snooker table and I grabbed the pair of cues.
“Let’s play?”
My thoughts kept drifting to the distraction in place. Would we relax more sitting side by side or would it make us awkward? Walking over, Harlow grabbed one of the cue sticks.
“Only if you teach me,” she challenged. With a nod of the head, my mouth watered. I realised I had certainly not thought this through. Lining up the triangle with her inquisitive nature watching my every move, a tingle shot down across my skin.
“Shall I break?” Her hums of confirmation made me chuckle along, as the cheeky minx ran her delicate palm along the outline of my arse. Distraction techniques to keep my mind off the game, she was trying to ensure her victory. Well, two could play that little game.
“Game on, beautiful.”
It was a game of cat and mouse, and we took turns. Harlow’s misses I couldn’t deny anymore, so with the next attempt, I needed to rectify it. I was going to aim for the blue balls, which were definitely lighter in shade to the current blue balls I was sporting. The safety shot was in focus as my cock strained against the zipper, pushing against the tightness of the jeans I was wearing. The sudden slip of the cue caused the white ball to bounce straight into the aligning pocket, completely missing the ball I was aiming at. Her smirk taunted me as she leaned forward.
“Damn it,” I said as I grabbed the cushioned edge for support, with my frustration rammed up a level, her perfect breasts teasing my restraint. The various viewpoints caused me to admire her, with many attempts to find the correct angle on the ‘D’ as she lined the white ball up.
Was she playing for my attention, or did she not actually have a clue at what she was doing? Either way, she was wiping away the foundations she had set and was pushing her way through them, even without her smart mouth in use. She had me caught under a spell, leaving me totally fucked.
Thirty-Three
Harlow
Even though Ididn’t have a clue how to play snooker, I was a pretty sore loser at sports. It was why I never normally allowed myself to play with Johnny or Elijah growing up. This was different though. I wanted him to see the real me, flaws and all. He could decide if he was certain to take on the full package, rather than drop me in a heartbeat. If that happened, it wouldn’t just be our relationship that would be severed but also his with my brother; with my heart probably taking a battering in the process.
Elijah was too easy to be teased. He was wound up like a coiled spring about to release in a direction unknown and untamed. With more shots and playful touches, I hoped it would begin to allow him to release all these built-up emotions. Telling me his true feelings, rather than bottling them up. A place we both needed to enter and divulge. Taking my various stances for my shot, I arched my back and moved my cue in an attempt of a position. Finally deciding after much assessing of the situation, his breath grazed my neck when he growled.
“Let me help.”
His hand trailed down my neck, along my shoulder blade. He pulled my arm back and aligned the cue with the white ball. My break was missed but my breathing was laboured instead as a result of his touch. He was good, a master at reading my body and signs, without me uttering any words of encouragement to him. All he had to do was follow the rapid increased beat of my heart. His next shot missed but gave me a fabulous view as he caught my stares. Seeing me not being able to commit again, Elijah’s authority took over and standing behind me, his hands trailed down my waist, as his right leg slid between mine, parting them.
“Stance is important, beautiful,” he said wrapping my arm in the correct position. He leaned into my back, with his arm circling my stomach, holding me correctly. He was unable to hide his bulging erection as it dug into the depths of my back, and we both struggled to focus on why we had even decided to come here. Talking having not even been mentioned but instead the undisputed chemistry fought to take control of the pair of us. Neither of us clearly wanting to address the situation but more, act on it. Taking the shot, all I heard was his whispered voice. “Perfection.”
He dropped the cue to the floor, stood me up, spun my body around and closed the minuscule distance left between us. With our bodies flush against one another, I dropped my eyes from his, allowing my body to give in to the electrifying charge. I was set alive, my back was arched against the velvet, cushioned edge. Elijah’s voice was full of rasp and need, as the octave of his voice deepened whilst he growled my name from the deep roots within.
“Harlow.”
It was enough to fixate my gaze back to his devilish eyes as he touched my skin, elevating the temperature one degree at a time.
“I am addicted to you. I want you, Harlow, do you hear me? I need you as much as the oxygen I breathe.”
His words were jumbled, as they floated around my mind.
Actions showed him what I was struggling to formulate at that moment that were dancing on the tip of my tongue. Jumping up, I wrapped my legs around his waist. I interlocked my fingers around the back of his neck, letting them feel the soft hair at the base. His mouth consumed me with fire, igniting the passion screaming within, as every nerve ending came to light. Elijah deepened the kiss, and as each moment passed, his tongue delved further into mine. Scouring the depths of my mouth, attempting to reach the hidden desires, encased within my soul. The wetness between my legs started amplifying as his hard length rocked against my mound with each sensation that hit against it.
Lifting me onto the edge of the snooker table, his kisses move in layers down my neck. Alternating, nipping, and teasing my creamy skin as his hands started to fondle my breasts, keeping him captivated. His eyes changed to shades of darkness into a deep dark, lustful presence, as he made me forget where we were. Laying my plans to the winds and letting the hidden bravado take over that I didn’t know existed.
“I need you too. I want us. Here, now and after.”
Short and to the point, with no need to expand. I didn’t think I could control my breathing long enough, with how coiled up he had let my body get. As in telepathy was a given requirement between the pair of us, his eyes trailed the heavy breathing my chest portrayed. His eyes wandered the full length of my form, taking in my full body in front of him.
“Harlow, shall we go home?”
The word home felt so foreign echoed from his lips being neither of ours technically, but I knew the meaning behind it had so much understanding behind our situation. Even though I knew I would revel in the fact of having him tucked within the sheets of my bed, I couldn’t deny the thrill and need to have him now, as my hormones overtook every reasonable ounce of sense I had left. I needed him and the torture of walking back could kill this vibe that was created, no matter if he were attempting being a gentleman or just being cautious. Gone were any inhibitions, all that existed was the pair of us, not a single other person.
