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I make a humming sound, not willing to tell her I didn’t do shit other than fish this afternoon. Still, somehow, I can’t lie to her. I go with a neutral response and grunt, “No.”
“Sparkling conversationalist I see,” she sasses, but there’s no bite to her words.
I’ve always been kind of broody and quiet. While I did good in school, I wasn’t the one who was eager to answer all the questions and have the spotlight on me. I’ve always been happy to let others take the lead and the credit.
Being quiet has sometimes meant people assumed I wasn’t very smart. I just didn’t have anything to say. Or, if I did, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to do it respectfully.
It’s better to just keep your mouth shut sometimes.
“You still didn’t answer my question.” When she blinks up at me like she has no idea what I’m talking about, I clench my jaw so much I’m almost afraid I’ll crack a tooth. I grit out, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh,” she chirps as if I’m not glaring daggers at her. “I saw it when I was driving around town earlier. It looked like a good place to grab a drink and,” she makes some sort of hand flapping gesture toward herself, “ta-da, here I am.”
“Ta-da,” I deadpan.
Bristol’s mouth tips up into a smile and I suck in a sharp breath at how damn beautiful she is when she smiles. The woman is dangerous. All the alarm bells in my mind are going off right now. I should grab my beer and walk away to find someone to play a game of pool with. Better yet, I should down my beer and then walk out the door.
I should.
Somehow, I stay in my seat and watch her carefully as I drink some more of my beer. As she looks straight ahead, I watch her without a single smidgen of shame. She’s gorgeous and I’m having a hard time tearing my eyes away.
“You’re staring,” she tells me out of the side of her mouth like it’s some sort of secret.
It’s not and I’m sure everyone who has been watching us, considering I’m not one to talk to women often, let alone pick one up, will be whispering about my interaction with Bristol as soon as possible.
“You’re beautiful,” I blurt and almost slap my hand over my mouth.
She turns toward me slowly and I brace myself for some snarky words. Instead, she whispers softly, “Thank you.”
She pours so much sincerity into two words that I almost run away from her right then and there. It would mean I lose out a damn good deal though and I can’t shoot myself in the foot when it comes to my business.
“Why don’t you tell me about the photoshoot while we play a game of pool?”
What the fuck? Where the hell did that come from? Do I want to spend some time with her, or do I want her to bend over the table so I can look at her juicy as fuck ass?
My palms itch a little with the desire to spank her round ass until it’s bright red.
It would be so easy to do right now too. I could just hike up her skirt while pressing a hand right between her shoulder blades to keep her still.
What kind of panties is my girl wearing? Lace? Bikini? Simple cotton but in rainbow colors? I could find out so easily.
I’m too busy trying to decide what she has on under her sundress that I barely register when Bristol gets off the stool and brushes imaginary lint off her shoulder. “If you think you have homefield advantage, think again.”
I smirk at her, loving the way she’ll argue with me about things big and small.
“I think I have all the advantages, Bristol,” I lean in closer to her as I do, ensuring that she must focus all her attention on me.
“We’ll see,” she singsongs before moving over toward the pool tables, her hips swinging seductively with every step.
I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose, but that doesn’t mean I’m not turned the fuck on right now at the most inopportune time. I find myself chasing after her, hoping none of the other fuckers in JB’s sees what a stunner she is.
If they do, I’ll end up fighting them and then I’ll be taken to jail for disorderly conduct or some shit. How can I enjoy a game of pool with her with my cock so hard I could pound nails?
“Prepare to go down,” Bristol says as she grabs a cue she likes.
I don’t comment and make a humming sound in the back of my throat. Maybe I should up the stakes.
“And one truth or dare question,” I negotiate. “All dares must be done when we get back to my place.”
