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She felt him growl with impatience. “Fuck,” he muttered, and pulled himself off Penny.
She whimpered, she couldn't believe it, she actually whimpered. She wanted him, and everything he promised. No small talk, no qualms, just straight in there, offering what she craved the most. He’d remembered, for a start. He’d remembered her saying that she wanted to start a family. He’d said something cocky at the time about getting down to baby making and she’d assumed he was just joking but-
“I’m busy!” he growled back.
“You put fifty bucks on winning the game, you dummy, a few shots and you’ll have cleared the table-”
“Fine!” Lyle huffed and grabbed Penny’s hand, pulling her toward the pool table. “Sit here, my Vixen, I’ll finish up, then we can get a drink and finish what we started in that ice cream parlor,” he purred to her, pushing her butt onto the bar stool by the pool table.
Penny thought she had achieved a clean sweep of the night.
“Prospect!” he suddenly shouted. “Drink, for my guest, Penny Rafferty, the cunning Vixen who stole my heart.” He winked at her, before raising the beer bottle to his lips again and drinking deeply.
She bit her lips. Something was off. She wasn’t sure what. She looked at the other bikers gathered around the pool table, who nodded a greeting but otherwise were fixed on the pool game. He was being too familiar, too friendly, as if they’d shared more than just one kiss and a hasty grope months ago. Something wasn’t adding up.
“Wait, Lyle, I-”
“What’s up?” he asked, chalking up his cue, smiling at her. He seemed relaxed. Too relaxed. Somehow too loose.
She frowned. So he did know who she was, then what was it that felt off about this? This was everything she’d hoped for and more. A warm welcome. Instant chemistry. An actual commitment to try for a baby. But it all felt… too quick, clumsy almost.
He winced as he put the bottle down next to her. A younger guy in a fresher looking black leather cut appeared and offered her another bottle of beer, the same brand as what Lyle was drinking.
Lyle cockily swaggered around the table, eyeing up his next shot, flashing glances to Penny, clearly showing off. Penny smiled politely. She had no idea about pool. She eyed the remaining balls on the table blankly.
He took a shot. Crack. With a sudden, sure movement. It was hot. From his bent down position, over the cue, he flicked his eyes up to her, and yes, Penny felt her core fluttering. Yes okay, she admitted it, this was turning her on. He was hot, he wanted her, he’d nicknamed her Vixen. He was showing off, sure, but she smiled and enjoyed the show. He raised himself up and sauntered around the table to sink another ball.
She raised the beer bottle to her lips. Bleh. And immediately pulled it off. It was not beer in the bottle. It was some sort of liquor. It was strong and harsh. She coughed, holding the bottle, looking at the one on the table next to her. Her full, untouched bottle, and Lyle’s half drunk bottle that she’d accidently picked up. That definitely didn’t contain beer.
Her eyes flashed up to him. Now she saw it. The confident saunter was slow and rolling. His dancing eyes were blurry, not quite focused properly. He was drunk.
She opened her mouth to say something, disappointment and shock filling her stomach, but he leaned down on the table to take a shot. He staggered as he stepped closer, misjudging the table edge, his hand slipped, the cue in front of his chest blocking him from putting his arms out.
“Lyle!” she cried out, sliding off the bar stool, though nowhere near him to help.
“Dude, what the-” One of the other guys shouted, and they lurched forwards, too.
But it was too late. Smack.
Lyle's head made contact with the corner of the pool table. Then he swiftly ricocheted onto the floor, his hands not coming out to brace himself, his head bouncing against the polished concrete. To add insult to injury, his cue swiftly rolled off the table and cracked him over the nose, too.
Blood was everywhere. People were everywhere.
“Lyle!” Penny cried, horrified.
“What the fuck just happened?”
“Christ, where is he bleeding from?”
Voices everywhere.
Penny was on her knees at his side. “His nose, it’s his nose bleeding, but he cracked his head-”
One of the scantily dressed girls pushed to the front of the gaggle of people now around him. “I need to stitch this up, we need to get ice on this, Colt, this could be a concussion, this could be serious head trauma-”
“Get him up, gently!” The good looking, tall man who had just been called Colt took the lead.
“Someone get me something to staunch the blood, he’ll pass out soon if we don’t-”
