Strangers with Benefits (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Jennifer Willows

  She sighed. There was no real reason for her to refuse, even though she wanted to. “Why didn’t you ask me this when you picked them up?”

  “I didn’t know about it then. I won the tickets to Carowinds at work yesterday, so I asked them about it last night. The tickets are good for this weekend only and I hate to waste them.”

  She didn’t have any plans on heading out to Gastonia to take the children to the theme park. Not this weekend at any rate. They were going on a camping expedition when the summer came in as their family vacation this year.

  But there was no reason to be spiteful.

  Even if it meant that she would be alone for another night.

  It was odd whenever her children weren’t at home. She had gotten so used to the ambient noises associated with kids. The crumpling of chip bags, the laughter, the tantrums, the sound of pattering feet as they jogged from one place to the next with boundless energy.

  And now her home was silent.

  She had no idea what she was going to do with her night, but she knew one thing. She wasn’t going to spend it at home.

  Alone.

  Sidonie sent a group message to the handful of people that she thought might be interested in a night on the town.

  She got a reply pretty quickly. She must be the only person who liked to sleep in on Saturdays.

  After she puttered around her house, she had a sandwich and carrot sticks instead of the steak she had planned. By the time she looked up, it was time for her to dress for the night and she dragged out an orange dress that she had ordered online.

  As her skin carried a red undertone, the orange was a nice color to wear in honor of the warmer weather. But it sported a long sleeve that would let her leave without a jacket and compromised with a mini length hem that ensured she wouldn’t bend over tonight.

  As much as Sidonie loved the dress, she felt like it was a bit much for a woman of the ripe old age of thirty-four. She loved it on sight no matter that, logically, it was a bit much for her thick thighs and large breasts.

  But it had been in her closet with tags for six months already, and it deserved some wear before the weather grew too warm for the long sleeves.

  Not to mention, she wasn’t getting any younger. If she waited too much longer, she would never wear it at all.

  Sidonie piled her hair in a sloppy bun at the top of her head and put on a pair of huge golden, pendulum shaped earrings. She was grateful she had applied the little makeup she was going to bother with first as she refused to look at herself after she put the dress on.

  There were many things she appreciated about herself, but her shape certainly wasn’t on that list.

  But when her phone rang, she realized she had lost the time to deliberate over her choices and she looked over at the display.

  It was Mimi and she was probably calling to let her know that she was outside of her house.

  Sidonie grabbed her small clutch bag and set out for destination unknown with skimpy dress and a smile as her only accessories.

  “I love that dress, girl!” Mimi hollered from out of the car window.

  The tiny compact was filled to capacity and Sidonie wished she had chosen to drive herself. But she would rather be safe than sorry and having a sober person was always helpful.

  By the time she found a way to position herself in the backseat of Mimi’s car, Sidonie found herself tilted sideways on the edge of the back seat, which had two other occupants, Maya and Gina, before she got in.

  Diyah was in the front passenger seat and the group of five bebopped downtown.

  When they arrived, Mimi elected to use garage instead of parking on the street. On the weekends, the street was free, but crowded, and none of them would want to hobble the distance in their heels.

  Sidonie didn’t care about being cute and she only wore a pair of attractive flats that would allow her to walk comfortably.

  Diyah was infamous for her five-inchers and Maya was usually not too far behind.

  Once they were at street level Mimi looked at the group. “Okay, where to?”

  Diyah wrinkled her nose. “Bourbon Street?”

  It was a decent enough place, with live music and a fairly good menu.

  “All right, I’m fine with that.” Sidonie took the lead and walked down the block to Bourbon Street.

  When they arrived, a handsome black male took their IDs and nodded them inside.

  Sidonie sat at a small barstool that would barely hold her ass in place, but it was better than the standing room only would otherwise allow for.

  The band playing was all right, but nothing to write home about. Maybe it was more that she wasn’t into folk music. She looked back at Mimi and shook her head. This wasn’t the place for her tonight.

  Mimi leaned over. “Yeah, I agree. But I’m going to have a beer before I look for another place to go.”

  Sidonie didn’t even feel like waiting that long and she shrugged. “I’m going around the corner.”

  “Where to? The only thing out that way is The Cellar.”

  “There.” Why not? It was bound to be better than here.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you there in about ten, just let me tell Maya at least. Diyah already met her first conquest of the night.” Mimi laughed, but the music quelled most of the sound.

  When she walked out of the door the cute, dark skinned man looked her over appreciatively. He was barely older than her two children. And the worst part was he knew it, he had her ID.

  “Going already?”

  “Yeah. But I might be back later.” No way, she was not spending her Saturday night listening to Irish Folk.

  Sidonie walked around the corner and up the entrance. The lights ran all the way down the ten foot tall shrubs, were they shrubs when a bush grew that tall? Or was it a tree?

  But either way, shrubs or trees, she walked past an outdoor bar and stopped.

  The first drink of the night was an amaretto sour and the kick hit her belly smoothly as she walked from the outer terrace to the underground belly of the club. There was more than one floor, but she had never ventured to the second or third levels of the bar.

  In all honesty, she never really took the time to go out.

  The handful of times she went out were when the kids were away and she wasn’t engrossed with one project or another.

  Once she was inside, she realized that the bar was dead, but at this point, she just wanted to dance. There were a few people grooving to the song, a Sam Smith ballad that was to die for and she joined them.

  They made space for her and she lifted her drink in the air.

  “I love this song!” A brightly cheeked red head giggled and bobbed drunkenly.

  “Me too!” Sidonie took a sip of her drink and laughed.

  By the time she finished this one, she would likely think everything was her favorite song, too.

  When she was done dancing, the place had a few more occupants and a lot less floor space.

  She grabbed a beer this time, something she could nurse. She never was the type to get sloppy drunk, but she liked to have a little buzz she could maintain through the evening. There was one free seat by the pool tables and she took it gratefully.

  One table was occupied and the other was empty, but there was no one to play with.

  Sidonie stood up, emboldened from liquid courage, and walked to the occupied table. “Hey,” she said to the two men at the table.

  One racked balls, and the other stacked quarters at the edge of the table.

  “Hey.” The older of the two nodded and winked.

  “I just wondered if I might play the winner.”

  They looked at her and then as if they had come to a nonverbal agreement nodded as one. “Yeah. Stay right there.” He nodded at the space between the tables.

  “How about I take my seat and you call me when you’re done?” Sidonie offered.

  “We can work with that. By the way, I’m Patrick and this joker is Jackson, better known as Jack.”
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br />   “Nice to meet you, Patrick and Jack. I’m Sidonie.” She walked back to the chair and took her prior seat as she watched Patrick re-rack the balls with aplomb that hinted he was at least a well-trained amateur, if not semi-pro.

  Jack chalked a cue stick from the house rack on the wall.

  He had poor skills with the stick, as if his hand eye coordination wasn’t the best.

  She was about to watch a short match.

  Before Jack had the chance to take the first shot, she saw Patrick grin and turn away from the table. It appeared as if two others had come to join in. She couldn’t see much from her vantage point, but it looked like one of them pointed at the table.

  She overheard Patrick say that she had next. That was good as this was about the most excitement she would likely have tonight.

  There were only handful of places that were fun for someone in her demographic and this was one of them.

  Bourbon Street was another, but the folk music squashed her plan to sit at the bar there tonight.

  So unless she wanted to go to another part of town altogether, she was stuck where she was.

  Sidonie just nursed her beer and waited for Patrick and Jack to begin their game.

  She watched as Patrick decimated Jack one shot after the next.

  He was good.

  But little did he know, she was better.

  It would be fun to dust off her rusty skills as the last time she played the game had been with her ex-husband.

  When Patrick aimed his stick for the last shot, she knew it was a good one when she saw the angle of his elbow. It was a triple bank shot, but she could see that he had chosen the most efficient path for the cue based on the remaining striped balls that Jack hadn’t sunk yet and the placement of the eight ball.

  He probably didn’t realize it, but the angle even accounted for the loss of momentum as it took the zig-zag path across the felt.

  Sidonie stood up and placed a dollar bill on the edge of the table as Jack shook his head.

  “I’ll rack, since you won last.” She offered.

  “You sure you want to give me the first shot?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You must be a bold lady, Sidonie.” She knew that Patrick flirted with her from his tone, but she wasn’t interested in finding a date tonight. She wanted to just have a good time doing things that she used to do before her children arrived on the scene.

  “Nah, just cocky.” Sidonie laughed and racked the balls.

  She hadn’t even chosen a stick yet, but she would get around to that in a minute.

  When she walked to the wall and looked at the really sad, overworked sticks that rested there, she knew that she had nothing more than a choice of which was the least bad off.

  There was one that was a bit large for her grip, but she could manage it well enough to get the job done.

  When Patrick broke the rack apart, there was a heavy crack reminiscent of thunder as the balls flew across the table haphazardly. Three balls fell into the pockets, stripe heavy, so she assumed he would take the white and colored ball combo.

  “I’ve got solids. And that is the last solid I’ll do you in this game.” Patrick winked.

  “Har-dee, har-har.” He wasn’t doing her any favors. Really, she could sink every ball on this table with a break shot if she wanted to.

  But he had no idea who he played against.

  Although, he was about to find out.

  Once Patrick took his second shot, he tagged two striped balls as if it was nothing, but he miscalculated the shot and tapped one of her balls in the back left corner pocket as a casualty from lack of finesse.

  “Looks like you did me another, Patrick.”

  “Maybe, maybe, not.” She took a good look at the table after all movement stopped.

  Yeah, he hadn’t done her any favors.

  For most players, there would have been no shot available.

  But Sidonie could work with it.

  She took another swig from the neck of her lukewarm 60 minute IPA and popped the ball at the base with a flick of the wrist. The cue jumped the table and landed in front of her target a ball that hung inches from the right corner pocket. The ball fell and then she tapped the stick again to sink a ball in the right side.

  From there she ran the table, sank her remaining balls, one by one as Patrick shook his head.

  “Damn, I’m lucky I didn’t bet on this one. Might have lost my shirt.” He chuckled as he chalked the cue. “Table’s yours. But I’ll get next when you and Den get finished.”

  Den must have been one of the guys that came over before Jack and Patrick’s game a few minutes before.

  “Den?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he was just here a minute ago. He must have gone for another beer.” Patrick squinted over in the direction of the bar and nodded. “As a matter of fact, there he is. Hey, Den, the lady was looking for her next conquest!”

  Sidonie peeked around Patrick’s broad shoulders and saw a very familiar face.

  Den was none other than Officer McTavish.

  As handsome as he was in uniform, he was even more so dressed casually. A pair of old blue jeans clung to his thickly muscled thighs for dear life and simple black T-shirt highlighted the details of his carved chest.

  Damn, it had been a long time since her libido perked up and begged for attention.

  Actually, it never had.

  Not like this.

  Heart racing wildly.

  Panties dripping wet.

  Nipples erect, disgustingly visible.

  She had the wild urge to rub herself against him, just so she would know what it felt like.

  Of course, it would have to be with someone totally unsuitable and likely someone that would never give her the time of day.

  McTavish was out of her league and Sidonie was barely able to speak basic English. “Uh, hi.”

  “Do I know you?” he asked as he looked her over.

  His gaze rolled over her from head to toe and she knew he was trying to place her.

  But he saw her at her worst, so there was little surprise he wasn’t able to figure it out. She did clean up nicely. Although, anything would have been an improvement on the unmade face, ball cap, ponytail, and leggings he had seen her in when she was at the laundromat.

  He stared at her as she racked the balls, and she looked away from McTavish, but there was no safe place to cast her gaze. Jack and Patrick watched the two of them interact, as if their wordless conversation was the most interesting thing to happen all night.

  “You aren’t going to answer my question?” he asked, but the despite the inflection, the words seemed more like a demand than a query.

  “Sorry, I was thinking if I needed quarters or not. But you can break if you want.” He looked at the table, where at least five bucks worth of silver waited.

  She didn’t want to make the situation any more uncomfortable than it was already.

  If he didn’t recognize her it was for the best.

  At least she didn’t have to think about what he thought of her, or watch him go from the casual man he was now to the officer that she met a week ago. Not that the controlling nature of the officer was unappealing.

  Far from it.

  But she liked seeing him as a regular person rather than an authority figure.

  “You won, you sure you want to give up the break?” he asked and she nodded.

  “Man, this chick could give you half your balls and still win.” Patrick claimed and Sidonie felt the heat of a flush burn over her chest.

  He was probably right.

  But she hadn’t seen Officer McTavish play yet, so she might be wrong.

  She was.

  As powerful as he might be professionally, he was even more so as a regular Joe out on the town.

  He was masculine enough that she felt like even more of a woman in his presence and she watched him take the first shot, breaking the racked balls into flurry of motion.

  More balls fell in the p
ockets than remained on the table. The split was fifty-fifty and she wondered what type he would choose.

  “Stripes.” He called out and sank another simple shot.

  But thankfully it was the only one left without scratching the cue or taking one of her solid balls with his.

  “Scratch.” He flicked the ball an inch to the left and Sidonie grinned.

  He was pretty good. He didn’t have a shot, but he didn’t leave her with anything, either.

  Sidonie leaned over the table and felt his eyes roll over her too cushy frame. He must have been trying to figure out why he recognized her.

  If he didn’t figure out why by the end of the night, she might tell him.

  Or she might not.

  “How about we make it interesting?” McTavish asked.

  Sidonie was about afraid of what that actually meant. Or rather, she was really afraid that she wanted to hear one thing, but that he was about to ask for something totally different. “How so?”

  “Winner buys drinks.”

  She was oddly disappointed.

  Down girl! It’s not like he was going to ask you to strip right here.

  Although, if he came at her with an indecent proposal, she would have a hard time saying no. That was a lie. She wouldn’t say no.

  “Okay. I can afford that much.” Sidonie laughed and McTavish shook his head in response.

  “Already throwing in the towel?”

  “No. But I never bet more than I can afford to lose.” Not to mention that she was a hundred lighter in the pocket, heck with the card and whatnot, it was closer to a buck fifty before she even counted her insurance replacement.

  “Smart woman.” He grinned wickedly and she wondered if he knew that she was halfway ready to ask him to do something reckless.

  And slightly illegal.

  Sidonie looked down at the table and leaned over, adjusted her stance slightly to afford her a better angle at the balls.

  She had a couple of shots she could go for, but none of them would help her much. She would either, knock two balls down for herself and give him one ball, or she would take two and leave him with two shots for himself.

  Neither situation was pretty, but she would rather take her two balls and leave him without a shot at all, unless he jumped the cue.