Maybe playing with my prey wasn’t such a good idea. I was expecting Benjamin Sabatino to be a douchebag. Like the usual sacks of shit I deal with, but I’m coming to find out he’s not.
“Can I get next?” Someone encroaches on my personal space. I glance over my shoulder to find the dickhead from earlier, and it smells like he was flushed down a toilet bowl full of whiskey.
“Next game’s taken. Piss off.” I gave him one pass, he won’t get another.
“Well, maybe I can get a giggle out of you the same way scruffy did.” He places his hands uninvitingly on my hips, and I grip the pool stick tightly. So tightly the wood creaks audibly.
“Can I ask you a question?” I peer at him calmly through the corner of my eye.
“Anything, baby.”
“What grade did you get in comprehension?”
“What?” The confusion is clear in his response. “I don’t think comprehension was a subject.”
“It was where I’m from.” I take a split second look around the room then even faster flick the pool stick up between his legs. I hear anoomphas the air is sucked out of his lungs right before I swipe his feet out from under him. He hit the ground hard, and I put my hand over my mouth like an innocent bystander. The table is far enough removed from the bar and most of the patrons. I bend over like I’m going to help him up, but instead take the tip of the cue stick and jam it into his balls. “Let me school you. I said I wasn’t fucking interested. Capisce? Now, go slither back into whatever hole you came from unless you’re looking for a pierced testicle.”
“Fuck! You’re a crazy bitch.”
I smile sweetly. “So I’ve been told.” I add some more pressure to his nut, and the prick turns a brilliant shade of red.
“Is everything okay here?” Baz approaches us, and I immediately straighten up. I bat my big doe eyes as guilelessly as possible before I assure him, “Everything’s fine. I think someone just had too much to drink.” The guy is already crawling away by the time I glance back down in his direction. If Baz wasn’t here, I’d kick him in the ass for good measure.
But I have to remain sweet and innocent and unsuspecting.
I hope it’s working, because the way Baz is looking at me right now is questionable.
“I’m definitely ready for that drink now.” I grab for the short glass with light amber liquid and a cherry floating on top, hopefully distracting him from what just happened, but he pulls it away before my fingertips even get close.
“Ah, about drink number two. I know number one had no expectations, but I think this one should come with a price.” He hit me with a roguish smile.
“What kind of price?” I place my hand on my hip and cock my head.
“The consideration of sleeping with me.”
Why is it when other men try to be cute I see them as total assholes, but when Baz does it I completely succumb?
I eye him flirtatiously.
“Everything you want has a price, I guess.” I give in willingly. I don’t even need another drink to consider sleeping with him. I’d do it for gratis. I haven’t stopped imagining what those big hands and irresistible mouth are capable of.
“It is the sad, but in my case favorable, truth.” He doesn’t sound disappointed by that fact one bit as he hands over my drink. I take a long, hard pull of the sweet libation through the straw, knowing every second that passes in Benjamin fucking Sabatino’s presence is detrimental to my mission. But at the moment, I just don’t give a damn.
Two more games of pool and several strong drinks later, I have mentally undressed Baz a dozen times, and I think he knows it. We have become way too comfortable, way too fast. Touching, brushing, flirting to the point ad nauseam. The sexual tension we have managed to conjure could propel a wind turbine.
I watch as Baz sinks his first eight ball. I let him win the third game. No one can ever accuse me of being merciless—all the time.
“You just kicked my ass.” I toy, licking my lips to drive him crazy.
Baz stalks over to me with athat’scomplete bullshit and I know itlook.
“You let me win.” He crowds me against the wall as he places his pool stick back on the rack. I guess we’re done playing.
“Maybe.” I eye him from under my lashes.
“No maybe about it. You let me win.” He traps my chin between his fingers and forces my face up. He’s a good foot taller than me, twice my width, and solid muscle. I swallow thickly. By the way he’s looking at me, I know for sure we are definitely done playing. I inhale his opiate-like, earthy scent as he presses his body dominantly against mine. All my internal functions are working on overdrive as my rationale and sensibility fly right out the window.
Baz leans in and I swear I petrify. I can count on half a hand the number of times a man has had the ability to incapacitate me, but Baz does so in such a quiet yet compelling way I barely realize it’s happening. I believe in walking softly and carrying a big stick, but Baz embodies it.
