FLIRT

by Penny Wylder

  I’m fully expecting him to say no, but to my shock, he doesn’t. Thomas takes a step back, lifting his beer to his mouth. He finishes what’s left of it in one long gulp, and I can’t help watching the way his throat moves as he swallows.

  He places the bottle back on the table and grabs his own cue. And then he’s in front of me. “If those are going to be the stakes,” he says softly, “I want something.”

  I can’t speak, my mouth is suddenly dry. I’m staring at his shirt, noticing the sheen of the material, trying to figure out what’s happening in my mind, my body. I can smell the spicy scent of his cologne, and the fact that he’s so close makes my skin tingle. But I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t even think about the idea of this. What we had ended. It’s better to leave it alone.

  Thomas’s hand brushes my arm, and the goosebumps ripple across my entire body. I’m glad that I wore a thick enough bra to keep him from seeing that my nipples are suddenly hard. And now my entire focus is on his hand, tracing up my arm and up my shoulder and to my neck. His fingers curl around the back of it and it’s both intimate and strong. I fight back the shiver of anticipation. His thumb brushes my skin, guiding my chin up until I’m looking him in the eyes. Those shockingly blue eyes, and the heat I feel there scares me. Thrills me.

  “I want you,” he says.

  “Me.” I knew as soon as he touched me that he was going to say it, but it still stuns me to hear it out loud.

  “If I win, I want to take you home with me. One night.”

  I swallow. “One night with you.”

  “One night. To finish what we started. That, or we lower the stakes.”

  There it is. Finally, an acknowledgement of it. A dark thrill runs across my skin at the thought of spending the night with him. My body is begging for it and he’s barely touching me. I recognize that he’s trying to give me an out, by letting me lower the stakes, and if I was smart, I’d probably take it. But I have a chance to get my family out of this situation in one swoop, and trading a night of sex with a man my body is already desperate to fuck is a small price to pay.

  Reaching to my side, I grab the chalk and rub it on the end of my cue. I never look away from his eyes. “You’re going down. By the end of the game, I’m going to have you on your knees begging for mercy.”

  He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I think you’ll be the one on your knees by the end of the night.”

  I shouldn’t like the thought of that, but I do. Heat coils down through my gut, and I’m lost in the imagery for a moment. Darkness and moonlight and him looming over me, hands in my hair, holding the back of my head as I suck him off. But it’s never going to happen. Because I’m going to win—I need to win.

  “It’s a deal,” I say.

  4

  I’ve always loved pool. I’m not half bad at it. Leaning over the table to break, I’m well aware that Thomas is staring at my ass. And I don’t mind. It’s been a long time since someone has looked at me like that, and it makes me feel sexy.

  I break the triangle of balls and a solid colored ball sinks into a corner pocket. But I miss the next shot, and Thomas pushes off the wall with a smirk. He takes off his suit jacket, and I swear watching him shrug out of it is an erotic experience. “So now’s the time I get to impress you with how well I use my stick?”

  “If you say so,” I laugh. He brushes past me, close enough that we touch even though there’s plenty of room for him to pass. He stretches out over the table, and I admire how the tight cut of his suit shows off his ass. Two can play the ogling game.

  He easily sinks two striped balls before missing one and passing the turn to me. He steps back, studying me. “So what have you been doing all this time? When you’re not showing up to rescue people.”

  “Graphic design,” I say, studying the table. “The firm I work with is letting me work remotely for the next month.”

  Thomas’s eyebrows pop up in surprise. “Not what I would have guessed.”

  “Oh?”

  “Nope,” he grins. “Weren’t you on the math team in high school? I thought you might have some sort of accounting job.”

  I don’t try to hide my eye roll. “Yeah, I was on the math team. But I don’t actually like math and wanted to do something that I like and am good at.” I try for an ambitious shot and miss.

  “Fair enough,” he says, quickly taking a shot that he misses. It’s so fast that it seems intentional.

  I look him up and down as I come around the table toward him. “Doesn’t seem like you’re that good with your stick after all.”

  His face is entirely serious. “I am. Don’t worry.” Turning my back to him, I line up a shot. “You won’t make that,” he says. And then his hands are on my waist. I can feel the heat of his fingers through my clothes, and for just a second it takes my breath away. The way his fingers curve around my hips has me seeing different images than what’s actually in front of me. Again the pictures of the dark and the moonlight, this time with his strong fingers doing things to me that make me moan…He moves me an inch to the left and I’m snapped back into reality. “There.”

  “We’re competing. How do I know you’re not trying to screw me?”

  I can hear the smile in his voice, and his chest brushes my back as he leans in to whisper in my ear. “I am most definitely trying to screw you, but I’m one ahead and don’t want to leave you in the dust.”

  Heat and desire roll through me, and I’m suddenly wet even though I shouldn’t be. He’s a Logan. God, this isn’t the way I usually play pool. I’m getting distracted. I force my eyes open and focus. I take the shot, and it’s perfect, damn him. I turn to move to my next shot, but Thomas doesn’t. The moment is suspended, neither us are breathing, our bodies pressed up against each other suggestively. The thought crosses my mind that even after I win, I might let him take me home anyway.

  “Excuse me,” I say.

  He leans close, and for a second I think that he’s going to kiss me. And for a second I think that I’m going to let him. “My pleasure,” he says as he steps back. He leans on the table as I set up my next shot, and I miss. I’m distracted by his forearms. Because he’s rolled up his sleeves and I didn’t even notice. But now I can’t stop staring at them, the corded muscle, the strength that’s obvious. My mouth starts to water.

  We trade shots, both missing and sinking the balls at an even pace. He’s not nearly as drunk I thought he was, and he’s also better than I thought he would be. I’ve completely underestimated him.

  The times we brush against each other is more than it should be, given we’re alone at the back of the bar, but I don’t mind. I like the goosebumps that rise along my skin and I like the way he’s looking at me with that fire behind his eyes.

  It’s down to the final few. I have two balls plus the eight ball left, and Thomas has three. “So what happens if I do win?” I ask.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he says.

  “If you can take care of it for a bet, why can’t you take care of it without one?”

  He shakes his head. “I never said it would be easy. It might be possible if played the right way, but it’s not going to win me any favors. My father is not a man who appreciates losing money or letting people off the hook. So, given the fact that taking care of it will undoubtedly impact my life negatively, and possibly affect my standing at the company, I’m not willing to risk it otherwise.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “But you’ll do it for the chance to sleep with me?”

  “I’d do a lot of things for the chance to sleep with you,” he says.

  I shake my head, laughing. “We haven’t seen each other in almost ten years, and it’s only been a few hours. Why?”

  “Beside the fact that you’re incredibly hot?” he says. “I don’t like unfinished business. You and I have some. I thought that we were both enjoying that night…before you disappeared and never spoke to me again.”

  I blush—I can’t seem to control it around him—and it’s both from memo
ries of lust and anger. “So you’re just fulfilling a high school fantasy?”

  Thomas closes his eyes for a second. “Despite what you seem to think about me and my family, I’m not completely callous.”

  I freeze, and wish I could take it back. “You’re saying I should give you a chance?”

  “When I win I’ll have my chance.”

  I line up my shot. “You wish.”

  I make the shot, but not with enough power. The ball stops just short of the pocket, and I inwardly groan. He’s going to take full advantage.

  Grinning, Thomas finishes the last of his beer and steps up to the table. “I think we’ve been dancing around the end of this game. Care to end it?”

  “Feel free to miss and I’ll finish up.”

  He laughs, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t miss. Not the first shot, the second one, the third one. Now he’s only got the eight ball left and I suddenly think he’s been holding back this whole time. Toying with me. “Eight ball, corner pocket.”

  The ball falls into the pocket with ease, and I know my mouth is open in shock.

  It honestly never occurred to me that I might not win. I haven’t lost a game of pool in years. Suddenly I’m conflicted, because I’ve lost. I’ve lost. That means that my dad is still in trouble, but I’m having trouble focusing on that because my mind is focused on images of Thomas and me together in the dark. Part of me expects him to say that he was kidding, that since he won everything goes back to the way it was before. But he doesn’t.

  “Good game,” he says, with a faint smile, coming close. So close now that I can feel the heat from his body even though we’re not touching, and it feels like I’m on a tightrope. I’m aware of every sensation, every movement, and I’m about to fall.

  “You were serious?” I ask.

  “I was.” And then his hand is tangled in my hair and his lips are on mine and I’m so shocked that I don’t even have time to take a breath. The kiss is fierce and deep and it touches every part of me. It’s achingly familiar, and yet like nothing I’ve experienced before. His tongue tastes like beer, but not whiskey. Had he been playing me all along? I think he really did dump his shots the way I had to make me think he was drunk. Now that I think of it, I don’t remember actually watching him take a shot.

  Right now I don’t care that I’ve been played. All I care about is his tongue against mine, our lips pressed together. My body responds to him the way it never has to anyone. It blossoms and loosens, and I can feel myself getting wetter. From just a kiss. Damn it. I know I shouldn’t want this. I swore never to trust a Logan again. And I want to keep that promise, but I also want this more than I even thought I could.

  He pulls back and I’m lightheaded, almost dizzy. “Tonight, you’re mine,” he says.

  I don’t have any words to argue with him.

  He puts his cue back, and takes mine. Shrugging on his jacket, he takes my hand and pulls me through the bar. I manage to grab my bag, distracted and dazed by the feeling of his skin on mine.

  Thomas leads me out to his car and opens the door for me, and then we’re driving. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, I’m just still shocked. I’m going home with him. Those fleeting and fevered images of him and me in the dark are about to be a reality. I shouldn’t be doing this.

  Then his hand is on my knee and all other thoughts and doubts disappear. His fingers leave a trail of warmth from my knee to my thigh. My legs automatically spread for him and he’s rubbing me through my jeans.

  My head falls back against the headrest and I’m looking up at the stars through the open sunroof of his car. I let out a moan as he presses harder against that delicate spot. My back arches and I wish my jeans weren’t acting as a barrier to his hand right now. I’m past the point of caring about loans and enemies and pacts. All I want is for my naked body to be pressed up against his.

  Maybe fifteen minutes of pure pleasure go by when we pull into the garage of a high-rise on the edge of town. His hand is suddenly gone and I can finally catch my breath. He shuts off the engine and now that my head has cleared, I’m suddenly nervous.

  “Rose,” he says.

  “Yeah?”

  He clears his throat, and I see those signs of discomfort again. He turns toward me. “This afternoon, before you realized who I was, and why I was there…I felt something between us. If we had no history, nothing that was putting us on opposite sides of the table like this, and I had asked you out, would you have said yes?”

  I nod. “Yes.” There’s no denying how attracted I was—am—to him.

  He reaches out to me, and I’m amazed by the fact that his hands on me already feel familiar. Natural. He kisses me again, softer this time. There’s a fire in my core and this only makes it burn hotter. “I know that I won our bet,” he says, “but I’m not going to force you to do anything. I’m not that man.”

  I smile, because I’m glad he said that. But I’m not exactly blameless here. There’s no turning back now. “Thomas, I wouldn’t have bet something that I wasn’t willing to give.”

  He gets out of the car and walks around to my side and opens the door. “Then welcome to my home.”

  5

  As soon as the elevator door closes, Thomas steps up behind me. He grabs my hips and pulls me against him. He’s shockingly strong. I knew he would be, but feeling the power of his strength is different than just seeing a solid body and knowing it’s strong. I can feel how hard he is as he grinds against me. His leans over and nips at my neck with his teeth. I can tell he’s holding back, being gentle with me … for now. I imagine it will be an entirely different situation when he gets me into his penthouse.

  I close my eyes and lean against him, marveling at his delicious scent, at his strength, at the feeling of his hard-on digging into my backside. I turn around to face him, grab him by the collar and pull him into a sweltering kiss. He lifts me into his arms with barely any effort. My legs wrap around his waist and I cling to him.

  When the elevator door slides open, I’m only slightly aware that there are people waiting to get in. Thomas doesn’t care and neither do I. He carries me out of the elevator and I hear someone giggle behind us.

  He somehow manages to put the key into the lock and open the door to his apartment without tripping or stumbling at the same time that I’m clawing to get the buttons of his shirt undone.

  He releases me just long enough to take off his jacket. Looking around his penthouse, I see that it’s an open style room with gorgeous windows that look out over Hawthorne, and I can see the lights of Boston in the distance. But that’s all I see. Thomas’s hands are on me again in an instant and I’m against the wall and his lips are on mine and suddenly I’m on fire. All the built up sexual tension from today and the pool game and our history and those abso-fucking-lutely incredible kisses explode through me, and I’m wet and ready and I can’t be worried about anything but this. I want it. Him.

  We stumble further into the apartment, and his shirt is off and I get to run my hands over his gorgeous chest, my fingers bumping along the muscles of his toned abs. It’s what I’ve suspected all day; that under all those clothes is a perfect body. The urge to search him with my mouth is rising, but I’m distracted by the way he’s kissing my neck. His fingers are in my hair, and they tighten until he’s in full control of my head. He tilts my face back and I’m looking him in the eye. “I wasn’t joking about you being on your knees.”

  Pleasure and anticipation spiral down through my gut. “Do I get to see you on your knees too?” I ask.

  “Maybe if you play your cards right,” he says, pulling me against his body. I can feel just how hard he is through his pants, and I like knowing how much he wants this. He guides me through the apartment, keeping me close and continually touching me, teasing me.

  His bedroom is gorgeous, open and spacious with what is probably the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. “Show me what you’ve got hiding under there,” he says.

  I laugh, suddenly nervous. I
didn’t wear my good underwear because I was convinced that this couldn’t happen. That it wouldn’t. “You’ve only got one night,” I say. “You sure you don’t want to take your time?”

  His lips trail down my neck. “One night is a long time, and I’ve got plans. But right now I want to see you. Last time I didn’t get to.”

  My back is to him, and even though I’m turned on, I’m still nervous, so it makes it easier to peel the tank top over my head. The plain black bra is nothing special, and I blush in embarrassment even though he can’t see it. Pulling me back against him, his hands roam up across my stomach and cup my breasts through the fabric. The sudden heat from his hands reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve been with anyone. Work and the awfulness of dating in New York have helped with that.

  Thomas turns me to face him, and his fingers work the button on my jeans. I help push them off my hips, revealing the ultimate in boring underwear. Black boy shorts. He huffs out a breath. “You’re so real.”

  I laugh. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you don’t pretend to be anything you’re not. Straightforward. It’s who you are, even down to your underwear. It’s who you’ve always been.” Instinctually I move to cover myself, and he grabs my hands. “It’s refreshing, and I love it.” He leans in and presses his mouth to my collarbone, and I melt. It’s a sweet spot for me, always has been, and I’m enjoying the feeling of his lips as he bends me back onto the bed. Thomas kisses me again, and I swear those kisses are magic. They make me want more more more, and I reach for him as he pulls away.

  He doesn’t go far, just stands at the end of the bed, slowly removing his clothes. His eyes never leave mine, and it feels…luxurious to be watched like this. I feel seen, the naked lust in his eyes revving me up and praying he’ll go faster, and I also feel stalked, pinned to the bed with his gaze and I know that he’s going to take his time and do what he likes with me. I can’t wait.