AllFreeNovel
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After a single close game with the four of us where Tom and Blaire win by sinking the 8-Ball first, we split up. Tom and Blaire take over a second table next to our current one, leaving Savannah and me playing against each other. Not only does she hold her own, but she’s whipping my tail.
Conversation is awkward at first. I mean, what do we really know about each other? First names and she knows what my job is. Oh, and I know she was throwing away something that she didn’t want anyone else knowing what it was.
I’m curious what was so secretive in her trash that made her chase after the garbage truck in her little pink jammies. Now’s not the time to ask, though.
“Never seen you two in here before,” I say casually, racking up the balls for our next game.
“You come here often enough to know everyone?” she tosses right back.
A snort blasts from my nose. Straightening up, I give her a grin. “Often enough to know you two stick out. Where’d you get those clothes from?”
Her lower lip pushes out as she frowns and runs a hand over her pink t-shirt. “It’s Prada. I thought it looked nice.” Doubt fills her face as she glances around, maybe finally taking notice of all the plaid shirts, leather pants, and oily jeans that make up most of the clothes worn in here. Her shoulders round and suddenly I feel like the massive asshole that I am.
“You look better than nice. You’re fucking beautiful.” My voice is gruff, and I didn’t mean for the last part to come out, but it’s true. She’s like one of those fancy dolls my sister used to beg for, the ones that were too nice to play with and had to be kept behind glass.
Savannah’s not a doll, but damn do I want to play with her, even if she’s way out of my reach.
“Thank you,” she says, a flush of pink dotting her cheeks.
Gesturing to the set-up table, I grab my pool stick. “Ladies first. Solids or stripes?”
“Solids.”
Savannah is a serious player, all concentration as she takes her shots and steadily sends the solid balls into the pockets with a hard clack of her stick on the cue ball. She also has these cute little things she does. She’ll give a little wiggle on a particularly difficult shot, or her tongue will poke out between her lips when she’s waiting to see if she’s made the shot or not.
I watch as she lines up her next shot, my eyes naturally zeroing in on her ass. Swallowing hard, I fight back the urge to step between her parted thighs and kick her legs further apart. I’ve never had sex on a pool table, but the height looks promising.
“Like the view?”
Pulling my gaze from her round backside, I meet her bright blue eyes head on. “Yeah, I do,” I admit in a husky half whisper, half growl.
Smirking, she turns around and leans against the table, her hips tilted out suggestively.
Heat blooms in my balls while the blood surging to my dick leaves me hard and aching.
“Nothing better than a winner.”
“Huh?” I swipe a palm over my face and shift my body, making a production out of chalking my stick while trying to hide from her the fact that I got a hard-on.
“I’m two balls away from winning this game.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” I say, adjusting myself to a more comfortable position before stepping up to the table. I take note of all my balls left on the table and yeah, it’s bad. The chances of me winning are about as good as the people in hell getting ice water.
“What do chickens have to do with pool?”
I pause and take in her frown. “You’ve never heard that expression before?”
Mutely she shakes her head.
“Means sometimes things don’t turn out how you thought they would.” And the same could be said for now. I thought I would be miserable tonight and instead I’m enjoying myself. Yeah, I want to fuck her into next week, but besides her looks she’s fun. And not as snotty as I figured she would be.
“You’ve still lost me on the chicken part.”
Now I laugh. “Never been to a farm before, have you?” At her negative shake, I continue. “You have a hen sitting on ten eggs and so you expect ten chicks, but they all might not hatch, so you end up with only five.”
“Oh.” Her puzzled look clears up, and she grins at me again. It’s like when the sun comes out on a rainy day, something in me feels lighter than before and even when I only sink one of the two balls I’m aiming for, that feeling remains.
“How old are you?” I ask suddenly. Because even in the shitty fluorescent lights of the bar, her skin looks petal soft and unlined.
