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“So are you going to tell me your name?” Dom asked.
“Depends. If you win, I’ll meet you. If I win, you’ll leave me alone.” She smirked and the dimple that appeared in her cheek charmed him. “Your break.”
Lining up the cue ball, he shot and broke the triangle with his usual straight forward power shot. She nodded with reluctant admiration as the two ball fell in the pocket.
“Solids.” He crowed and thumped a hand on his chest. “Just like me, solid, dependable.”
That smirk he wanted to taste showed up again.
“Yeah, you look a little thick. Although if I were you, I wouldn’t be so proud to be landing the blue ball.”
Did she just drop a double dick joke into the mix? My god, she’s perfect.
“I sure hope that’s not how tonight ends up.” He said, and lined up his next shot.
“Well, I’m not one to argue with a sign.”
That was good. She wouldn’t argue when he explained that the Universe had aligned tonight to bring them together. He imagined how that conversation would go down, and missed his shot.
Gentleman that he was, he stepped back and let her have the table. He didn’t even check out her ass in those jeans when she leaned over the table. Well, he looked but he didn’t leer.
She sunk the ten easily.
“There, now all the blue balls are off the table.” She winked at him and assessed her options, scoping out her next shot.
“Does that mean I’ll get to meet you later?”
“Hmm. The game is young. It’ll depend a lot on the next five minutes.”
“What’s going to happen in the next five minutes?”
He didn’t have long to wait for an answer.
She twisted her long brown hair and tucked it over one plaid covered shoulder, the thin cotton of her western-style shirt stretching taut over the curves of her breasts. Then she sunk the nine ball. She leaned over the table directly across from him, giving him a shadowing glimpse of her cleavage, making him long to pop the pearl snaps covering the rest. She smirked as she busted him for looking, and sunk the twelve. Without breaking eye contact.
Grinning, she boosted her jean-clad hip up on the table, stretching to line up her shot and untucking the edge of her shirt in the process. The flash of golden skin made his mouth water and he took a sip of beer to hide his swallow of lust.
The sharp clack of balls bouncing and two thumps drew his attention back to the felt. He had to count the table to see that she’d sunk the eleven and the thirteen on the same shot.
He was sunk, too. She had him hooked on the line and she knew it. She was just playing with him now. He leaned back against the wall, propping a foot behind him, and watched her take him to town.
She moved with confident grace, a knowing smile on her face. He was smitten. She’d held control of this game from the moment she’d accepted his quarters. She was a pure pleasure to watch as she cleared the table, leaving only the lonely solids on the table. He was openly grinning as she sunk her last stripe.
His opportunity to convince her to give him a chance was rapidly disappearing. Dom pushed away from the wall and stepped into her path on her way around the table towards the eight ball.
“Before you call that last shot, can I ask you a question?”
She gripped her cue like a wizard holding a staff and nodded.
“Shoot.”
“Where did you learn to play pool like that?”
“It was my father’s game. I used to sneak down to the pool hall to play with him. When I was twelve my nickname wasThe Ballbreaker.”
“I’ll bet it was.”
She moved to walk past him.
