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And I can’t afford to let myself forget that. Not for a second.
Exitingtheplayroom,Ican’t help but glance over at the pool table in the front room.
“Interested in a game?” Cooper asks, catching my lingering gaze.
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I’m not really… You know, it’s probably best if I don’t.”
“Have you ever played?” The question is innocent enough, but there’s a challenge in his eyes.
“No.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Would you like to learn?”
“I…” I hesitate, my hand gripping the wagon handle. I don’t want to embarrass myself, but my goal was to sleep with Cooper Sharp, and it’s not as if things are exactly going according to plan so far.
My internal debate is still raging when he says, “What would you say to one of your students who wasn’t willing to try something new?”
He has a point, damn it. I press my lips together. “Fine. One game. But don’t expect anything amazing, okay?”
“Deal.” A broad, drop-dead gorgeous smile fills his face, and he turns to grab a stick from the rack on the wall as I clench my thighs together, more committed to my goal than ever before.
I leave the wagon and step to the side of the table, running my hand along the smooth green felt.
“Alright, first things first,” Cooper begins, coming up beside me, so close the heat radiating off his body quickens my pulse. “This is a pool cue. You want to hold it about 6-8 inches back from the tip.” He positions my right hand on the cue, guiding my fingers into place with gentle precision.
“Like this,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “How does that feel?”
If he’s talking about the way every nerve ending on my skin is on fire, attuned to his body at my side, it feels perfect. “Good,” I say then clear my throat. “Fine.”
“Great.”
“And then you’ll want to rest the cue on your other arm. May I?” he asks.
“His name is Shorty,” I say, holding up my stump.
“His?” he asks, confusion in his tone.
I shrug. “That’s just how I think of it. Have for as long as I can remember.”
“Okay, well, let’s see how well Shorty can brace the cue.”
He slides behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and uses the other to guide my right hand on the cue. The intimacy of the position sends a shiver down my spine. It takes every ounce of focus to line up the shot.
“Like this?” I ask, shifting from one foot to the other as I adjust.
“Yes,” he growls, his breath hot on the back of my neck as his cock twitches against my ass and betrays his distraction. “Just like that.”
“Perfect.” I can’t help but smile.
We take the shot together, and the cue ball connects with its target. “Hey, look at that!” I exclaim, as the dark blue ball sinks into the pocket. “I guess I’m not so bad after all!”
“No,” Cooper teases, his grip on me tightening ever so slightly. “That was perfect.”
Warmth spreads through me at his words, and I let myself imagine, for just a moment, what it would be like if Cooper was mine.
“Your shot,” Cooper says, jolting me back to the present as he steps away to give me some space, or maybe to put some distance between us.
“Right, yeah.” I bend down to line up my next attempt. The balls click together as I miss, sending one skimming toward the pocket, only to stop just short. But when I glance up, Cooper’s eyes aren’t on the table or my missed shot. They’re on me.
