*****
Frank
Already about two-hundred bucks up, Frank leaned over the table to line up his break. This was a game he actually enjoyed playing, something he’d always had a knack for. As a kid, he practically lived in the pool hall around the corner from his house. It was where he’d learned to hustle, where he had his first beer, and where he’d first made out with a girl right under her brother’s nose. Sometimes, when he played, he could find himself back in that smoky old hall long before the monsters wreaked havoc on his life.
He was just about ready to shoot when a pair of hands snaked their way around either side of him, scarlet red nails shining under the hanging light.
"Hey baby. Wanna duck out of here for a minute?"
Frank turned his neck to glance behind him. Heavily-lined eyes stared up at him, peeking just over the top of his shoulder. He could feel her breath through his shirt. He slid a hand over the top of hers as they linked around his stomach.
"No. You go ahead, though," he said, prying Joy Anne’s hands apart and throwing them off of him.
She stepped back, her arms held up, and stared at him with open disbelief. Frank just shook his head and leaned over the table, lining up the break, and tried to ignore her as she gaped at him. Joy Anne, though, was never a girl easily ignored.
"What's the matter? Worried your girl's gonna find out?" she asked. She was trying for cool amusement, but he could practically feel her temper rising behind him.
"No," he said before taking his shot. "I ain't worried. 'Cause I ain't going with you, Joy Anne. Go scratch your itch with someone else."
"Didn't ya have fun with me, Frankie? I know she can't handle ya. Not enough for you to have any real fun." Her hand reached out under his chin and trailed a slow, tickling nail over his throat as he tried to line up his next shot. "You need a real woman that can handle all ya got. That can take all of you. Let's just slip on outta here. We can be back b'fore she even realizes your gone."
Frank dropped his head and breathed out slowly. Joy Anne was a relentless woman when she wanted something, and it was obvious she wasn't about to give up anytime soon. It was one of her more irritating qualities.
With a pointed look to the guys hanging around the table, Frank stood up and placed his cue over the felt. He turned on the spot, resting back against the pool table and facing Joy Anne fully as he gripped the edge on either side of himself. As expected, Joy Anne saw this as a permissive move and stepped closer, pressing her legs against his inner thighs. He didn't move her away.
The guys busied themselves with shots of tequila.
"You're right," he said smoothly. "I need a strong, sexy, badass woman in my life. On my bike. In my bed."
Joy Anne's face lit up, her thin-lipped smile widening. She took the chance at pressing her pelvis against his, her hands pressing against his chest and playing with his shirt. He rewarded this by grabbing her on either hip, his thumbs rubbing small circles, and drew his face closer to hers as if trying to tempt her to kiss him.
"That's why I chose Harley," he whispered.
The light in her face vanished like a blown lightbulb. She stared up at him, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. With no effort on his part, Frank gripped her hips tight and shoved her skinny ass away from him before grabbing his pool cue again.
"You were just a means to an end, Joy Anne. Fun, but temporary," he said. "Harley's much, much more than that. Best get used to her, doll."
He didn't give her a chance to argue with him. He turned around, lined up his next shot, and sunk three balls in. That was all he had to say on the matter. He’d hoped it was clear in his posture, the banter starting up between him and the other guys, and his lack of attention towards her.
Joy Anne may be persistent, but she knew how it was. He was her new alpha, and he’d dismissed her.
Still, a woman scorned was a hell of a thing. She huffed behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to watch her storm off, rejoining the friends, before catching Harley’s intent stare. She was smiling at him, no doubt having seen him refuse Joy Anne’s advances, and he returned the smile.
Deny the Moon Page 9