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With a clack, my ball breaks the formation and I sink two of them. I straighten, turn in time to see him raise his gaze from where he’d fixed it previously—in other words, on my arse. I’m not Kim Kardashian, but I’m not being immodest when I say my rear end is almost as spectacular.
Thanks to my heritage, my figure bloomed as soon as I hit puberty. While I was very self-conscious about it at first, I soon realized boys loved my behind. I’m not flat chested, either, but while my bust is what an ex called 'neat,' it’s my butt that captures the imagination of men and keeps it there. And this asshole is no different.
I stretch a little, thrust my arse out, then walk around the table, making sure to put an extra swing into my hips. I twitch my backside, then bend over again, positioning my cue so that I am almost halfway across the table as I line up my next shot. I take my time, focusing on the ball. Once again, I sense his gaze track down my spine to my behind and lower to where my skirt has ridden up almost to my arse. It’s still decent; I’m sure my panties aren’t showing or anything. I’m equally sure the material has pulled across my butt enough to show off the mounds of my arse-cheeks. I focus on my shot, then swipe my cue forward. My cue ball hits the one on the far side with a thwack, when thwack, a slap heats my backside. The shock zings up my spine. What the—!
I straighten and swing around with the cue stick raised. He shoots out his arm and grips my wrist, stopping me. The feel of his palm print seems to be etched into my behind. A snarl boils up my throat. I try to pull my hand away, but his grip tightens. My fingers loosen their grip on the cue stick which clatters to the floor. I raise my free arm, but he grabs it and twists it behind my back. He yanks me forward so my breasts are smashed into his chest. So I can feel the planes dig into my curves. I struggle to break free, and he hauls me even closer, until we’re joined from chest to pelvis to thigh. Until the hot thick column at his crotch stabs into my lower belly. Until a shiver zigzags down my spine. Until my core clenches. Until wetness coats my lower lips and my toes curl.
"Let me go," I snap.
He curls his lips. "After you teased me like that?"
"I wasn’t teasing you."
"What do you call laying across the pool table until you were all but making love to the play field?"
"That’s called trying to get a competitive advantage." I bare my teeth.
His grin widens. "And this is called pushing my advantage."
8
Hunter
I lower my head to hers, slowly, slowly, giving her enough time to move her head. I’m holding her hands so she can’t move, but I’m giving her the freedom to turn her face away from mine. I pause with my lips so close to hers that our breaths mingle. We’re so close I can make out the golden flares that jump deep in her eyes.
"I’m going to kiss you now."
I’m not sure why I warn her. It’s not like me to announce my intentions. I want something, I take it. But with her, somehow, it’s different. I need her with me every step of the way. And maybe I say it aloud because I expect her to take advantage of the choice I’m giving her and turn away. Instead, she tips up her chin and rises up on tiptoe so her lips brush mine. A jolt of lust zips down my spine. My balls harden. She must feel it, for a groan slips from her mouth as she pulls back.
The next moment, we move toward each other. I open my mouth over hers. I suck on her lips. I hold her gaze as I deepen the kiss—as I swipe my tongue across the seam between her lips, as I nip on her mouth, as she thrusts her breasts further into my chest, as her hips cradle the column that throbs between my legs. The blood drains to my groin. Those golden sparks in her eyes lighten until they seem to resemble flickers of static. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I release her, only to grab handfuls off her butt cheeks. She moans, and the sound arrows straight to my cock. I squeeze the soft flesh and she yelps. Color flushes her face. Her eyes resemble pools of liquid gold, and fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
I hoist her up and onto the pool table. She winds her arms about my neck, and I plant my bulk between her knees, forcing her legs further apart.
"Wait, my skirt—"
There’s a ripping sound, and suddenly, I’m standing between her thighs.
"My skirt—"
"Fuck the skirt." I close my mouth over hers and swallow whatever it is she’s been about to say. She freezes for a second, and I take advantage of her temporary complacency. I sweep my tongue between her lips, and when she parts them, I swoop inside. I dance my tongue over hers, tilt my mouth and deepen the kiss. I suck from her, swallow her breath and knead my way up those gorgeous thighs of hers, the sight of which has been driving me crazy over the past fifteen minutes. I bring one hand up and wind my fingers about the nape of her neck. With the other, I coax her to wind those spectacular legs of hers about my waist. A shudder grips her. I nip on her bottom lip, and with a groan, she melts into me. She swings her legs up and locks them about my waist. I release my hold on her neck, only to cup the back of her head. I deepen the kiss and lean forward and into her. She resists for a second, then allows me to guide her onto her back on that damn pool table which I had been so jealous of earlier when she’d leaned over it. I ensure my palm cushions her head, then with my other hand pinch her chin to hold her in place. Still holding her gaze, I kiss her deeply. And she kisses me right back.
She digs her fingertips into my hair and tugs. My cock jumps. Her chest rises and falls, and she squeezes her thighs pulling me even closer into the valley between her legs. I’m so hard now, my dick is going to stab straight through my boxers and my pants. I release my hold on her chin and cup her breast. I squeeze, and her entire body jolts. I tug on her nipple, which stands to attention, outlined by the fabric of her silk shirt. I pinch her nipple, and she tightens her hold about my waist. And still, she hasn’t closed her eyelids, but neither have I.
If we could talk without speaking, then surely, that’s what is happening now. My body is communicating with hers, my eyes holding hers, my breath mingling with hers, my lips fused with hers, and my cock aching to be inside her. My heart stutters; that warning beat is back, pounding in my chest. For a second, I stay where I am with my palm cupping her breast, then I tear my mouth from hers.
We stare at each other, my blood pounding in my temples, my throat dry, a ball of emotion forming in my chest and growing until it seems to weigh me down. I step back and pull her up with me. She blinks and looks between my eyes, then lowers her legs. I hold her shoulder until I’m sure she’s stable, before I move away from her.
"That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry."
"Excuse me?" Her voice is soft, her expression open. The look in her eyes is one filled with lust. I feel myself leaning toward her and stop myself. I am doing the right thing.
"It was a mistake. A moment of weakness, which I allowed myself to be overcome with. It won’t happen again."
"Wait, hold on—" She raises a hand. "You’re calling what we just did a mistake?"
"Yes."
"You bastard." The lust clears from her gaze. Her features harden. Her eyes snap golden fire, and goddamn, she’s a sight to behold.
