Her breath hitches. I hear it. I fuckingfeelit.
When I straighten, I look over my shoulder. She’sperched on the tall chair next to the high table, knuckles whitening around the cue pressed between her thighs. Her lips part on a slow inhale, her chest rising.
“Keep staring at me like that,” I say, chalking the tip of the cue, “and I’m going to forget about this bet.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.” She lifts her chin, eyes locked on mine.
Fuck.
I move to the other side of the table, setting up my next shot, but I can’t stop watching her from the corner of my eye. How her dress shifts over her thighs each time she crosses them. The swipe of her tongue over her lower lip.She’s stunning.
My grip on the cue tightens, hands not as steady now. There’s a current of heat running under my skin. I force my focus back on the shot, breathe once, then send the ball rolling. It drops into the pocket.
“Looks like I’m winning.”
Her eyes darken, bottom lip sinking between her teeth as she scans the balls left on the table. Seconds tick by, and the bar fades into the background. All I can feel is her. This quiet, reckless confidence, radiating off her in waves. She circles the table slowly, fingers trailing the rail, and nudges each ball into a pocket one by one. When she reaches the last ball, she pauses and lifts her eyes to mine. I hold my breath, waiting, anticipating what she’ll do next.
Her hand slides across the felt, the last ball dropping with a soft thud.
“Look at that.” Her smile curves. “You win.”
“So I have.” I take a slow step toward her, my voice dropping. “Remind me, what is it that I get if I win?”
She closes the distance. Her chin tips up, eyes flicking to my mouth before she answers. “You get to taste me.”
My hand lifts on instinct, skimming the line of her collarbone. Her breath comes in quickly, warm and wine-sweet against my jaw, as my fingers trace the curve of her breast. She doesn’t move, just watches me. Goosebumps rise along her skin. Her nipples tighten beneath the thin fabric when my touch drifts down her waist. Heat races down to my core, burning so hot, I have to shift my stance. When I finally meet her eyes, she’s already looking at me.
“I’m not going to just taste youhere,” I murmur, thumb sweeping across the softness of her lower lip. “I’m going to taste all of you.”
She nods, that pretty pink flush crawling up her neck to her cheeks.
“I need you to say it,” I tell her, my voice rough. “I won’t touch you unless you’re sure.”
Her fingers drag through my hair, nails scratching just hard enough to make my jaw clench. She lifts onto her toes, her mouth hovering just below mine, close enough to feel her breath.
“I want you to taste me,” she whispers, heat curling around every word, “and then I want you to beg for more.”
The cue slips from my hand, hitting the floor with a sharp clatter. My arms hook under her thighs, lifting her in one hard pull as her legs lock around my waist. I carry her to the pool table and set her down on the edge, but she doesn’t loosen her grip; she drags me in tighter, forcing my hips against hers. I brace my hands on either side of her, caging her in. Her eyes hold mine with no hesitation. When she arches into me, head tipping back, chest brushing my shirt, I can’t help myself. I dive in like a man starved.
I nip at her neck, slow and claiming, then drag my mouth up the line of her throat. My lips graze her jaw, and when her head tips back down, I claim her mouth. Sheopens for me instantly, and my tongue slides unhurriedly against hers. When she sighs into me, my breath stutters. I shift my stance, needing to get closer. My hands thread into her hair, and pull her in until she’s flush against me. The kiss is soft, teasing, addictive. A small whimper slips from her, and my dick jumps at the sound. She tastes like wine and blueberries and every fantasy I’ve ever had of her.
I break the kiss only to give us a second to let the moment sink in. My forehead drops to hers, both of us panting, our hands still holding each other’s faces like we’re afraid to let go.
“Fuck me, baby girl,” I rasp, voice scraping low. “You’re incredible.”
“Hunt,” she breathes, her lips ghosting mine. “I don’t want slow.”
That pulls me all the way back, my eyes meeting hers. “No?”
She shakes her head, nails dragging down the back of my neck as her legs loosen from around my waist. I grab her knees, guiding them up, opening her to me, and the second I catch the thin strip of black lace under her dress, a groan tears out of me.
“You want me to fuck this pretty pussy with my tongue and remind her what she’s been missing?” I murmur.
“If you don’t, I’ll go home and take care of myself,” she says, panting already.
“Well, now…” My thumbs hook under the thin straps of her lace thong, peeling it down the length of her legs. “We can’t have that.”
I drop to my knees, scooting closer, and flip her dress, baring her completely.
