touch me, I don’t need a lame excuse.” She settled his hand on the curve of her hip, her pulse kicking up a notch when they were close enough that they could have been kissing.
His eyes were mesmerizing, light-colored but blazing with intensity. “Good to know.” Raising his free hand, he traced her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. Desire had been sparking inside her since the moment he’d smiled at her in the office hallway, but now a pang of sharp arousal jolted her—and they were fully dressed in a public place. Imagining the kind of magic he could work in the privacy of her apartment left her dizzy.
If she didn’t move away from him, she would be in no condition to shoot pool accurately. Which might not matter in the larger scheme of things, but she had to admit, part of her wanted to impress him.
When she stepped back, reaching for her drink, Gray gave her one more scorching look, then took his place at the table. The competitor in her wanted to watch the balls scatter and check for strategic positioning; the female in her was having difficulty looking away from the back of his jeans. When he’d said earlier that he liked physical activity, it had obviously been more than innuendo. He was in fantastic shape.
“You’re up,” he said, drawing her attention back to the game.
She scanned the table. He’d pocketed the seven, so she was stripes. She called the eleven and leaned down to take her shot. Recalling the appreciative way she’d watched him shoot, she stole an involuntary glance toward the mirrored wall at the last second. His reflected gaze locked on hers—avid and hungry—and she fumbled her shot. The eleven rolled in right where it was supposed to, but the cue ball followed.
Annoyed with herself for the undisciplined lapse in concentration, she let loose a stream of profanity.
Behind her, Gray laughed. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“Actually, she died when I was a baby.”
He paled. “Oh, God. I’m—”
“You didn’t know.” Whenever she told someone about her mom, she felt as if she should be sadder, but she didn’t remember the woman at all. The deepest sorrow she’d experienced was for her father’s loss. “My dad raised me and, incidentally, taught me most of the bad words I know. He wasn’t above swearing at soldiers if it motivated them, and sometimes he forgot to turn it off at home.”
“Military, huh?”
She nodded. “Army.”
“My father had his own roofing company and took on a lot of small construction jobs for extra income. He was careful, but anyone who works with tools that often is gonna catch his thumb with a hammer from time to time or run afoul of a circular saw.” He smiled. “Colorful words abounded. Of course, he swore me to secrecy. Mom would’ve had a fit if she’d known the vocabulary I was picking up in the garage.”
He surveyed the table, nostalgia fading as he immersed himself in the game. Using the conveniently positioned stripes, he knocked in two easy shots before having to stop and think about what he wanted to do next.
“If I were a show-off,” he said, “this is where I’d impress you with some fancy trick shot.”
She smirked over the rim of her beer. “In my experience, guys who really know how to handle their sticks don’t need to compensate with trick moves.”
“Need? No. But nothing wrong with spicing things up every now and then, right?” Giving her a suggestive smile, he executed a perfect behind-the-back shot.
She bit back her own smile. “I refuse to contribute to your ego by applauding that.”
“You can admit I make you weak in the knees. I won’t lose respect for you.”
She snorted. He sank a fourth ball before finally missing. Dani used the opportunity to reclaim her dignity with a great stop shot. The waitress brought another round of drinks while Dani pocketed two more, steadily closing the gap. But then she was left without a shot. Even as she banked the cue ball as best she could, she held no real hope. Sometimes, physics was against you.
Gray returned to the table. She sipped her beer, watching in admiration as he ran the table. His cockiness at pool was well warranted. After knocking in the eight ball for the win, he sauntered back to the railing with a satisfied smile.
“Now I wish we’d bet something,” he said. “Or that I’d suggested strip pool.”
The idea was appealing, if either of them had a pool table at home. She slid off her stool and began gathering the balls to rerack. “You can’t play strip pool in public.”
He joined her at the table, leaning close as he lowered his voice. “Sure you can.” His breath feathered against her ear, a tantalizing tickle of warmth. “You just have to remove things that aren’t obvious to everyone else in the room.” For the second time that night, he cupped her hip. Then he traced a finger across the denim, just above the elastic band of her panties. “Like...earrings.”
His outrageous teasing made her laugh, and she shoved against his chest. “You are a bad man.”
He dipped his head in agreement. “Being bad is my best quality.”
“NICE JOB.” IT was damned uncommon for Sean Grayson to smile when he lost, but he couldn’t help an admiring grin as Dani pocketed the winning ball in their second game.
She was a worthy opponent. Plus, she was sexy as hell. Watching her lean over in that narrow skirt that hinted at naughtiness without actually revealing anything lessened the sting of defeat. “Best two out of three?” It was a logical suggestion, given that they were currently tied and that the waitress had just brought them a basket of chips and salsa to go with another round of beers. Yet, the longer he spent here with Dani, the more desperate he was to get her alone.
The heated glances they’d shared had escalated to casual—and not so casual—touches. He wanted her. Badly. If his jeans grew any tighter, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep playing.
“One more,” she agreed. Her dark eyes gleamed with pleasure. Because she was having such a good time? Or because, like him, she was looking forward to what would follow their next match? She’d made it clear with her flirtatious words and body language that she desired him every bit as much as he desired her. “I hate to end on ties.”
He chuckled. “Right? There should always be a clear winner. My mom used to get aggravated at me and my brother for being too compet—” He stopped abruptly. With Dani calling him Gray, like most of his buddies did, and that way she had of grinning up at him as if he were the only man in the world who mattered, he’d almost managed to forget that she thought he was someone else.
“Lost my train of thought,” he mumbled.
She nodded absently, her easy acceptance of his fib making him feel like scum. As far as she knew, she had no reason to mistrust him. “You go ahead and rack ’em,” she suggested. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.”
Five minutes ago, he would have watched her cross the pool hall, enjoying the view and the graceful, confident way she moved. Now, he was preoccupied with guilt. His almost-mention of Bryce had taken some of the shine off the
