The last thing I needed was Lincoln close. Not when I could alreadyfeelhim all the way across the room. I was still too warm from the look he gave me earlier, his words murmured against my lips. And I was far too rattled from the memory of his mouth on me, his body covering mine, his cock filling me so completely.
I wasn’t drunk enough for this.
I wasn’tsoberenough for this.
“He’s working,” I said, trying to sound cool and calm and oh-so casual. “Leave him be.”
Being the good friend she was, Chloe ignored me completely and turned toward the bar, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Lincoln! Your wife needs you over here!”
“Oh my god,” I muttered before downing the rest of my drink.
Sure, Lincoln ignored me completely whenever I told him I didn’t need his help or that I could handle things. But, this?Thishe paid attention to.
He wiped his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder before tossing it on the counter and stepping out from behind the bar. He strolled over to us, all cocky swagger in those jeans that were made for his ass and that T-shirt that was molded to him like a second skin.
Goddammit, he was hot.
His eyes never left mine as he walked straight to me, only stopping once he was in my space, his feet bracketing mine,his chest close enough that the hard tips of my breasts brushed against him with every inhale.
“You needed me, wife?” He wrapped an arm around me, his fingers lingering on the curve of my ass, that stupid smirk on his stupid face. “Say no more.”
I didn’t want to melt into his warmth. Didn’t want to love how his body fit against mine or how his breath against my ear made me shudder and want things I definitely should not want.
“The only thing I need from you is to keep up,” I said, forcing my voice to be steady as I stepped back and grabbed my stick. “Try not to cry when I win.”
A slow grin swept across Lincoln’s mouth, his dimples flashing. “Goddamn, you’re cute when you’re cocky, hellcat.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “You know what happens when you call a hellcat cute? Her claws come out.”
He grabbed a stick for himself and stepped up behind me, his lips against my ear. “Good. Maybe she’ll use them on my back tonight.”
His words shot a bolt of lightning straight to my pussy as images of me doing exactly that while he filled me over and over slammed into me.
I met his gaze, unable to hide the heat in my eyes. And he was…smirking at me?
Oh, this jackass was good.
He thought he could knock me off my game? Well, two could play at that.
“Ladies?” I asked, my gaze still locked on Lincoln. “You mind if I hand my husband his ass first before we team up?”
“We’ll allow it,” Sutton said with a nod.
“Hell yes, we will!” Chloe settled on Xander’s lap. “Watching you two is gonna be more entertaining than playing.”
Then the table was ours and our audience was forgotten as Lincoln and I faced off against each other.
He racked the balls with the kind of confidence that said he could do it blindfolded. And he probably could. Probablyhad. He’d grown up in this place, had spent so much time here when he was younger that all this was second nature.
But, for years, I’d been right next to him. Playing alongside him. Getting beaten by him.Beatinghim.
Which meant this was anyone’s game.
Those hot-as-sin forearms flexed as he lined up the cue, his smirk gone now and replaced by a focus that was razor-sharp. He leaned low over the table, drew the stick back, and broke.
The crack of the shot echoed through the bar, the balls scattering across the felt. A solid dropped into a pocket. Then another.
Shit.
