“Fine.” I prop one elbow on my lid—making damn sure it doesn’t slide off that tank this time—and rest my chin on the back of my hand, looking up at him with all the disdain I can muster. “What’s your bestshot, Romeo?”
“You win… I leave and never come back,” he muses. “I win… I’ll still go with dinner...”
I can’t help but feel disappointed; I was expecting more. “Whatever.”
“…but you’ll be dessert,” he adds.
My heart thumps in my chest, and I’m damn sure he can see my blush now.
“You’re on,” I say boldly, hooking my helmet over my handlebars and climbing off.
He gives me a slow grin, chest lifting, back straightening.
I’m going to play my best, just for the satisfaction of beating him, and because if he can’t rise to the challenge, then he can go fuck himself.
But damn… I really hope Declan Hale knows how to handle a pool cue.
Six
Declan
The Black Bear is my kind of bar. A couple of worn pool tables, booths around the edges of a dirty floor, three feet of clean mahogany, loud music, and a nice girl serving the drinks.
But I’m only interested in the one that came in with me.
I can’t believe she agreed. She must want this at some level, even though if she wins, I said I’d leave. Whether I will? Don’t know yet.
I’m hoping it won’t come to that, but she’s going to play her damn best—anything less, I’d be disappointed.
Even though it’s still early, the bar’s already half full: Fourth of July weekend. But one of the tables is free.
“You rack, I’ll get drinks,” I tell Genesis.
“Yes, sir.” It’s a sarcastic response, but the innuendo beneath makes my cocktwitch, and I look at her. The blush she rewards me with is one of the most mesmerizing things I’ve seen, and the glare she tries to cover it with is just as stunning. Dark chestnut eyes cutting through me, like she has no idea what they do.
She’s gorgeous, that’s the truth. Fire and beauty in one package.
Faced with losing the match and leaving her, or winning this match and having her?
That’s incentive.
The queue at the bar isn’t too long, and I order two beers, double shots of bourbon on the side. A little alcohol helps my pool, and I’m guessing it’ll hit her harder than it hits me. I’m not past some gentle cheating when the stakes are this high.
Genesis has the table ready by the time I get back, and she’s drawn attention, too. But of course she would’ve done; a girl in leather pants and a cropped strappy top, about to lean over a pool table? That tattoo of thorns and flowers wends its way down from her shoulder and beneath her clothing, surfacing again at the bare skin around her midriff.
It’s a provocation as if to say ‘you’ll never see the rest of it,’ and for a moment, I can’t take my eyes off it.
And I’m not the only one. Half a dozen guys are watching her, and some of them have moved closer.
My jaw tightens when I see them, but I manage to relax enough to give Genesis a smile as I put the drinks down on a convenient table. I’ve got a lot of work to do to get her in my bed tonight, and I can’tafford any mistakes.
“Boiler makers?” she asks. “Trying to get me drunk?”
“Yes,” I say with a challenge, dropping a shot into the bottom of each glass, and handing hers over.
She gives me a wry smile, chinks glasses, and takes a decent pull. I do the same, reach for the second shot, toast her and swallow. She follows, wipes the back of her hand over her mouth, and narrows her eyes at me.
“If you think that’s enough to put me off my game, you’ll be disappointed, Mister.”
