All the Donovan siblings look alike. They all have rich dark-brown hair, golden-brown eyes, and similar facial features. Each of the brothers have the same thick corded muscles from years on a farm, but they all differ in builds and height. While Cade is the tallest, West is the one with a thicker build. Their hair, while the same in colour, are all different styles and lengths. Hayes is definitely the smaller one of the four, but his arms and thighs are almost as thick as West’s. I’ve never met their dad, but I know their mom is a small delicate woman.
“Sure,” Wren tells them. “Teams or turns?”
“Teams,” West says, his eyes on me. “Jade will be with me.”
I shake my head. “Oh no. I’ve never played before,” I tell the group.
“No worries. I’ll teach you. Colter set it up,” West tells his brother.
West wins what they called a lag and chooses us to go first. “Jade. You start for us,” he says, passing me the long stick.
“What do I do?” I ask nervously, looking at the table and feeling unsure.
“Just shoot,” West says. “You want to sink a ball to determine if we’ll be stripes or solids.”
Huffing out air, I bend over the table, copying the way I’ve seen people do before, and line up for a shot. Taking a deep breath, I concentrate on the white ball and push the stick forward, sending the balls scattering across the table. My hit wasn’t strong, so only a couple slowly roll towards what West called pockets. I watch intensely as one striped ball slowly tips over the edge and into a hole.
“So that means we’re stripes,” West tells me, and I nod, acting like I know what that means.
After a few attempts, West comes up behind me. His scent of wood and whisky enveloping me. “Here. Can I help you?” he asks, leaning over me and placing his hands over mine. I can feel every rock-hard, solid ridge of his body as he pushes against me, and I can’t focus on what I’m supposed to be doing. His hands cover mine completely, and the size difference is staggering. His heat wraps around me, and I can hear my blood rushing through my ears. Trying to calm my breathing so he doesn’t know how much this is affecting me, I take a deep breath and focus on the way he pulls our arms back and shoots the cue forward.
“You want to thrust it hard. Just like that,” he says, his warm breath ghosting over my ear, making me shiver. My core clenches at his choice of words, and all I can think of is him thrusting hard into me.
Our turn is over, but we don’t move from the position we’re in. Our chests rising and falling together.
Someone clears their throat, and I look up, feeling flustered.
“You guys, uh, good over there?” West’s brother asks with his eyes wide, Wren next to him with her nose scrunched.
West steps back and clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “All good. Your shot.”
We finish the game, and my body is still on edge from having West over me while I was bent over that table. Colter and Wren celebrate their win, and I scan the crowd for Sarah, trying everything in my power to avoid looking West in the eyes. I’m sure he could feel how fast I was breathing and how much I liked having him over me.
Swallowing a breath, I tell Wren I’m going to use the bathroom, but really I just need to wash the sweat from my hands and splash water on my overheated face.
I enter the dark hall at the back and push into the women’s bathroom. The lighting in here is as dim as it is in the rest of the bar, but surprisingly, it’s a lot less sticky in here. The stalls have solid wood doors, offering more privacy, and the walls are a mix of brick and wood planks. The sinks are raised tin bins on a smooth marble surface. Each sink has its own mirror with black trim. The bathroom just might be the cleanest and fanciest part of Buckles.
I force myself to use the bathroom and then stand at the sink, taking a few moments to just watch myself in the mirror, waiting for my pulse to slow down. My cheeks are still flushed, and my pupils are dilated. My core clenches with need, and I shake my head and sigh. I splash my face with water and then step back out into the hall.
“Well, hello, beautiful.” I jump as an unfamiliar voice and man step into the little bit of light the hall offers. My hackles rise, and my heart starts to race in fear. I know I shouldn’t have anything to be worried about, but I don’t like being in the back of the bar where there isn’t much light, with some male I don’t know.
Ignoring the man, I keep my head down and try to walk past him, staying as close to the wall as I can. When I go to pass by, he reaches out and snags my wrist. I yelp and try to pull my arm free, but the man is much stronger than me. He pulls me closerand cages me in, and I fight the urge to cry. He places his free hand on my waist, holding me against the wall as I try to squirm and get loose, but with his tight grip I begin to panic. I’ve never had a problem at Buckles before.
“Remove your fucking hand before I do it for you.”
My body instantly relaxes at West’s deep, familiar voice. When the man lets go and backs away, I dart around him and run straight for West. Shielding me behind him, he steps towards the man making him cower.
“Sorry, man. Didn’t know the pretty lady was taken.”
“Taken or not, you don’t fucking lay a hand on a woman unless they want you to, and from what I saw, she didn’t fucking want you to touch her,” West all but growls.
“Oh come on, man.”
“Get fucking lost before I deck you,” West snarls, and the guy turns around, muttering under his breath.
“You okay?” West asks, turning around to face me and placing a hand on my cheek to get me to look at him. My body is still shaking with fear, and I try to concentrate on West.
Swallowing, I whisper, “I’m, okay.”
