She clutched at her chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Good. You’re still here.”
“I was just getting ready to leave. What’s the matter? Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. But I’m taking you out for your birthday.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. But I want to.”
She squinted. “I thought you had company.”
“Got rid of her.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you ditch your date?” The confusion on her face melted as a realization of some sort seemed to hit her. “Oh.”
My brows drew down. “Oh what?”
“You’re done with your date.”
“I was far from done,” I grumbled, then nodded my head toward the street. “Come on. You deserve a nice night out on your birthday. That dumb putz has no idea what he’s missing. Let’s go get shitfaced.”
She smiled from ear to ear. “That sounds awesome.”
“I’m never getting my balls in.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re so uptight. You haven’t been laid in so long, you forgot it’s not the balls that go inside.” I smirked at Emerie as the five ball rolled into the left corner pocket. It was our first game of pool, and I’d just banked in my fifth ball in a row. She was right. I might clear the table before she chalked up her stick.
She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gotten laid?”
“You’re wound a little tight.”
I expected her to go off on me, but instead she surprised me. Literally. Just as I was about to take my sixth shot, she yelled, “Watch it!” My hand veered mid-shot, and the two ball landed nowhere near the pocket I’d intended.
She sported a smug smile, all proud of herself.
“Is that how we’re going to play this?”
“What? I’m so uptight, I can’t help myself. Sometimes words get bottled up, and they just pop out of my mouth like a cork from champagne.”
“Your shot.” I extended my hand toward the felt. As she positioned herself, I rounded the table, moving closer until I stood directly behind her. She attempted to pretend it didn’t bother her, but eventually she turned around.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m watching you take the shot.”
“From behind?”
I grinned. “It gives me the best view.”
“Go back to where you were standing.” She waved her hand to the other side of the pool table. “I think your view is clearer from over there.”
She bent again, attempting to line up her shot. My eyes dropped to her amazing ass. “That depends on what I’m looking at.”
When she finally took the shot, her cue scraped along the felt and completely missed the ball.
“I thought you knew how to play.”
“I do.”
“Doesn’t look that way.”
“You’re making me nervous standing behind me.”
I leaned down next to her and showed her how to position her hand to cradle the stick so it would at least be easier to connect with the ball. After she got the hang of it, I went back to the other side of the table. My intentions that time had been truly altruistic—at least until her shirt gapped open, and I was staring straight down at her tits.#p#分页标题#e#
I couldn’t bring myself to move. She must have been wearing one of those bras that only holds half a breast, because all I could see were two perfectly round globes of luscious, creamy skin with just a hint of something black and lacy.
Great tits to go with a spectacular ass.
I brought my beer to my lips as I waited for her to take her shot, but kept right on gawking over the bottle as I took a long draw. The only thing that eventually distracted me was watching her slide the stick back and forth between her fingers.
Then I imagined my cock was the stick.
Forcing my eyes shut as she finally took her shot, I emptied the contents of my Stella. Emerie managed to connect with the ball this time, only she sank one of my balls instead of her own. She was so excited, I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
“Does that mean I go again?”
“Sure does. I’m gonna grab another beer. You want one?”
“Yes, but not another beer. They make me too full.”
“Okay? What do you want?”
“Surprise me. I’ll drink whatever you give me.”
I definitely needed to walk away for a minute.
The line at the bar was two deep, but I was a regular here. Roman and I met at Fat Cat every weekend to play pool and talk shop. So when Tiny—the bartender who had to be nearly seven feet tall—saw me, he took my order ahead of most people.