Granted at seventeen, I found anything sexy, and she was without a doubt. But something always held me back from pursuing her. It wasn’t because I found her slightly boring and far too controlling. It was because I knew she liked the game—the teasing, the getting me hot and wanting me running after her. She was used to boys falling at her feet and didn’t like that I wasn’t.
I enjoyed women too much to settle then, loving all their attention on me. Who wouldn’t? We never officially dated, but she told everyone we were. Got me to take her to the prom. The night in my car…
My feet almost stumbled as the memory of Kasey’s beautiful face and young body straddling mine in the driver’s seat as we fumbled and took what we wanted—but then the image turned into another person—and this time it was an RV, and not my pickup truck. Her dark hair wrapped in my hand, her head back in utter pleasure, riding me.
Heat filled my gut, swirling around the alcohol, slipping and sliding over my skin. The heady music played from the jukebox and hummed through my veins.
Stop, Smith. You can’t think of her that way. It’s wrong. Not with your past and present situations.
Kasey had already messaged me, saying how excited she was to see me and pick up where we left off. Thanks again to Kyle… She must have gotten my number from him. There was no mistaking her intent. She was never one to be sly. She was direct in what she wanted, and she pursued it with the same determination. And all I needed was another Maxwell sister to set upon me with that kind of resolve. I really was a dick.
Locking down my thoughts and feelings, I strolled to the pool table, almost tossing the sticks on the table.
“You’ve played?” I barked.
“It’s been a while.” Her brows furrowed, sensing my shift in demeanor. Anger at myself and her moved me like a beast around the table as I racked the balls.
“Ask if you need help.” I chalked my tip, not looking at her. “You can go first.”
She was silent long enough to pull up my gaze. Her narrowed eyes were on me.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She grabbed a stick, chalking it. “Why don’t you break?”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” She kept her expression blank. “I’ll watch and learn.” Her voice was slightly strange, but I shrugged, taking point on the cue ball, drawing back my stick; the sound of cracking clapped in the air, a striped ball sinking into the corner.
“You’re solids.” I relocated to get a good shot on another striped one.
“Am I?” Her light tone craned my head back to her. Her face was still empty. I turned back, dropping another one, my third ball missing the pocket.
“You’re up.” I leaned against the table, pulling my stick in close to me.
“Hmmm.” She tapped at her lip. “It’s been so long. I kind of forgot.” She gripped the stick wrong, bending over the table. My gaze darted to the handful of guys hovering around the table, their eyes locked on her ass.
I stood to my full height, glaring at the group, but they were too drunk to notice.
“Anything for you two?” A waitress stopped by.
“Fuck, yes,” I growled.
“Six tequila shots.” Kinsley popped up, her cheeks already rosy from the heat and alcohol.
“And a bourbon,” I grumbled.
The server nodded, heading to the bar.
“Let’s make this interesting.” Kinsley looked up at me.
As if the girl was gravity, pulling me into her orbit, I stepped closer to her. “Interesting, huh?”
“A shot for every one you miss.”
“Okay.” I narrowed my eyes on her. That sounded too easy. “You aren’t playing me?”
“I’ve played this game maybe a couple of times. I’m awful.”
“Then you sure you want to do this?”
“Gonna drink them anyway.”
“Okay…” I lifted one shoulder, noticing we seemed to have gotten closer, her knee brushing against my jeans. “Then let’s make this even more interesting. The winner gets the bed.”
Her eyes flashed, a moment of panic hinting at the edges of her dark eyes. Her cheeks pinkening, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. Her head finally nodded in agreement. “Fine.”
My back would love a night on an actual mattress.
The waitress came by with our drinks, lining them up on the sill next to the table.
Kinsley folded herself over the table, and I moved to the other side so I wouldn’t stare at her like the other douchebags in the corner.
Fumbling, her stick scuffed the table, not hitting the ball. She frowned, biting her lip again.
“Try again.” I motioned to the table.
“You sure?”
Nodding, I watched her set herself up again. Her angles were all wrong, her hold too stiff. Her stick crashed against the cue ball, bouncing it off the table. I reached over and grabbed it.
“Oops.” She picked up a tequila shot, downing it. She tried again and failed.
Shit. The way she was going, she’d be drinking them all in minutes.
“You just need to loosen your hold and hit the cue ball to direct your ball. You can’t hit the cue ball as if that’s the one you want in. Most likely the angle will be wrong when it hits the actual ball.”
She stared at the table for a moment, then at the shots. “Can you help me?”
Oxygen sealed back in my throat. Me being anywhere near her was a bad idea.
“Yeah. Sure,” I said, ignoring the alarms in my fuzzy head. I downed what was left of my first bourbon, setting the glass down and heading to her, stopping at her side.
“Bend over… Spread your legs.” My voice went low and gruff. Demanding. Holy fuck. Every word from me sounded bad… a phrase that had come out of my mouth before, but in a totally different setting.
She sucked in, her skin flushing a deeper shade.
I was about to mutter an explanation, but instead I watched her do what I asked.
Fuck. Hell. Shit.
I guzzled my fresh bourbon, trying to shove out every bad, twisted thought in my head. I didn’t trust myself to move any closer to her, feeling my cock wanting to take her right here. Hear her cry out.
She held the stick, pointing it at a ball.
“Loosen your grip.” I tapped her arm.
She tried, but still the angle was all wrong, putting the 8-ball into a pocket.
She scowled, frustration lining her brow.
“Pretend that didn’t happen.” I tugged out the ball, putting it back in place. “You’re hitting it wrong.”
“Then how?” She sighed in defeat. “Show me.”
My need to be near her to do what she asked overrode every warning, every intelligent reason not to.
I came around her, my hands going to her hips. “Lean over.” My mouth brushed against her ear. She shivered, swallowing hard. She bent forward, pushing into my cock.
A slight dizziness spun my head as the rough fabrics of our clothes rubbed against me, almost making me groan. She felt so good… and my dick became so needy for her, for more. I gripped the ledge of the table, trying to keep myself from acting on it.
“Like this?” Her voice croaked, her hold on the stick too loose now.
“No.” I pressed fully into her, all the voices yelling at me to stop were currently being ignored. We weren’t doing anything bad, right? Just showing her how to play pool. Innocent. Right?
My brain fell off his chair laughing at me as our forms pressed together, her back arching slightly. There was certainly nothing innocent about what I was thinking right now.
My arms sliding over hers, I moved her arm in position, moving the stick back and forth until I felt she got a better understanding, then I shot it forward, the ball knocking into the one she wanted. It still missed, but only by a hair.
Her head curved, glancing back at me. “Better.”
I stared at her, feeling the chemistry crackle, our mouths only a breath a part. Very slightly, her ass pre
ssed back into me, raking desire down my nerves. Claws burst into my chest and clapped down on my lungs, spearing hunger through my groin. I didn’t care about anyone around us, everything a blurry humming… I could fuck her right here.
“I think I got it now.” She gulped, her body pressing back again.
It took a moment for her words to sink in, to realize I was still on her like a second skin, and she was nudging me back.
“Oh.” I jerked back, stepping away. “Good.”
She stood up, her eyes not meeting mine. She grabbed another tequila shot.
“Maybe not drink one every time you miss a shot?”
“A deal is a deal.” She downed the single shot.
I stepped back up to the table, clearing it in a matter of minutes.
“Another game?” she slurred.
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on. Double or nothing.” She waved as the server neared us. “Another round of shots. But make them doubles.”
“Oh, hell no.” I shook my head at the waitress. Kinsley was already drunk. “I do not want to hold your hair again.”
“You’re backing out of a bet?” she challenged me.
“Back out? I won.” I clapped my hands together. “Bed’s mine. Get ready for a night on the lumpy ground with the bugs and snakes.”
She snarled at me, putting her hand on her hip. “Bed for the rest of the week.”
“What?” My mouth dropped. “You really want to sleep on the ground that bad? You could have asked.”
“Double shots,” she told the waitress.
The blonde looked between us, shook her head, and headed for the bar.
“Okay, but remember when a rock is stabbing into your spine and a spider is crawling over you… you chose this.”
“Be an adventure, right?”
“Sure.” I racked the balls, setting up the table. “You break this time?”
“Okay.” Her footing was unsteady as she went around to the end. I tossed down a large bill on the tray as the server dropped off our drinks.
“Thanks.” She winked at me, then trotted off.
“You ready for this?” I motioned to all the double shots. Neither of us needed them, but we were at the stage we thought we could handle it. I usually felt differently the next day. Bourbon or beer was my drink. Tequila was not a drink I should have been consuming around Kinsley.
She swayed as she leaned over. I laughed. The girl was bad sober; if she thought seeing double the balls would help her aim…
Crack.
The balls spread out across the table like an explosion. A striped ball fell in a side pocket.
“You’re solids.” She rose, giving me a patronizing wink before shifting down the table.
Crack.
Two more stripes went into pockets.
I blinked.
“Twelve in right pocket.” She pointed with her stick before she got down, her shot landing that very ball in the hole.
“What the fuck?”
Her demeanor totally shifted. The unsure girl was gone, she slid around the pool table like liquid, every ball going in.
“You said you only played a couple times… that it had been a while?”
“It has been.” She smirked at me. “At least a month. And I meant a couple times that night.”
My jaw dropped. “You played me?”
“Oh, that’s a bit harsh.” She dropped another ball before prowling over to my side, her sandals hitting my boots, her head craning back. “You seemed eager to play the misogynistic stereotype… and I let you.”
“You. Fucking. Played. Me.”
“Don’t feel bad.” She grinned, patting my arm. “You’re not the first.”
I noticed she was no longer slurring or swaying. She had tossed out the bait, and I had totally gobbled it up.
I should have been mad, but her audacity had a grin tugging on my lips. A chuckle bumped up from my chest as my hand ran over my head.
“Did you forget my brother had his own pool table down in the basement?” She dropped another stripe in the pocket.
The Maxwells had a full game/media room in the basement, which I wanted to move into. It was heaven compared to my house.
“Yeah.” I folded my arms, awed in watching her move. Her confidence had my full attention again. Especially my lower half. “We played all the time. And if I remember you acted like you hated the game. Rolled your eyes every time you came down, irritated you couldn’t watch one of your movies.”
“I was irritated, especially when you were there interrupting my movie time. Doesn’t mean I didn’t know how to play. Kyle taught me since no one else in the house would play with him.” She went in for her last shot, the 8-ball in a difficult position. With an ease that popped my eyes, the last ball went in. She stood, tipping up her eyebrow. “Taught me everything I know. Especially how to con easy prey. Now…” She went to the four double shots of tequila, gesturing to them like a game show. “You ready for this?” she mocked.
Another gruff laugh came from me; rubbing my scruff, my eyes latched on to her. Little Kinsley Maxwell totally played me… and it completely turned me on.
I looked at the liquor then back at her, my inhibitions already crumbling around me. All the logic and reason why I couldn’t touch her slipping from my head.
I should have said no. That she won and that would be the end.
Instead, I stepped up, my fingers wrapping around the tall shot glass. Fuck it.
I took them one right after another, knowing perfectly well I would have no fight in me left. And yet, I didn’t seem to care.
I was so fucked.
And for the first time ever, I hoped it wasn’t in the good way.
Chapter 13
Kinsley
Oh. God.
I inhaled sharply as I watched his head tip back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank down the shots, the muscles cutting down his neck over his shoulders and arms, flexing. Perspiration dampened his skin, making it glow in the dim bar light.
Everything in my head was telling me to back away, but my body, warm and relaxed with alcohol, wanted to inch forward, my hands aching to discover his body.
No. Kins. You hate him… right? Right???
But I knew I didn’t. Far from it. The ’tween girl who thought he was annoying was no longer me, and right now I was the stupidest one in the Smug Bastard’s fan club. Because I knew better. But I couldn’t ignore the tightness of my nipples, my thighs pulsing with need, my head spinning with desire.
When I decided to play him, I thought the joke was on him. I was wrong.
The feel of him pressed into the back of me still tingled my skin like a ghost, his voice brushing my ear, husky and deep. He noticed the shivers that ran down my limbs, the way my back automatically arched. I could feel him respond, almost making me moan out loud. The dry desert heat circled me like a muggy cloud, clinging to my skin, dripping a trail of sweat down my back.
You can’t touch him. He’s off limits.
From the moment we walked in, I noticed almost every female and a few men stared at him with profound hunger. He was someone who entered a room and commanded all the attention without even knowing it. Groups of girls steadily inched over, staring boldly and lustfully, whispering, trying to get his attention and not caring if I was there. They were hoping he would find one of them more intriguing than me.
I shouldn’t have cared, but when the woman bartender, with her huge tits, leaned on the bar, her interest clear, I acted without thought, shoving myself between them. The jealousy and possessiveness flamed off my shoulders like spikes. I couldn’t seem to stop it.
Pulling out my cell, I blurrily looked down at the text still waiting for me to open. Enough of Kasey’s message showed to know what it was about.
Smith.
Open it. Remind yourself, besides him being in a “complicated” relationship, he had dated your sister. Kasey was still yearning for him. Did he ever sleep with her? I had caugh
t them making out a few times; one time they didn’t even know I was there. Kasey’s whispered pleas to go to her bedroom, her body rubbing up against him like our cat, desperate and needy.
I hadn’t understood it then. Now?
I could feel the same neediness curving down my figure, the desire to press myself into him. It was mortifying how badly I wanted to rub against him.
Embarrassment and anger burned my cheeks, and I turned away from him, putting my cue stick back. I felt him before he even touched me; his massive build came in behind me, stilling me. Reaching over, he placed his own stick in the rack.
“Good win.” The texture of his voice shivered down my spine, my lungs hitching. His mouth brushed close to my ear, deepening my breath. “I’m impressed.” His hands touched my bare back, trailing slowly down to my hips. My lids squeezed wanting nothing but to step back into him. With every drink both our inhibitions had lowered, but still he had seemed very much in control. That was before the four double shots he took in a row.
“Kins?” He didn’t move, his fingers edging the waistband of my jean shorts. My voice locked in my throat, my head not able to find anything to hold on to, my sensations overwhelming me, feeling his touch like a beacon in darkness.
My veins were still buzzing from the jump, the sensation of his heavy erection pressing into my stomach, and the thrill in his eyes when he peered down at me. I’d thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to. Now I needed him to…
Letting go of any bit of logic in me, I stepped back into him. He sucked in, his hands sliding down my hips, propelling shudders through me. Overwhelmed by the intensity of my body’s reaction to him, my pulse thudded in my neck.
The base of the music thumped against my skin, the singer’s voice raspy and sensual, which only pushed me more in this world of dark desire.
“Kinsley…” he said low, his palms flattening on my hipbones, pressing me firmer into him. A breath gasped from my throat, spinning my head even more. Jesus, he was massive. Thick, hot, and pulsing against my ass. Not able to stop my reaction, I rolled back into him.
Smug Bastard: A Hero Club Novel Page 10