Uninhibited

“Sure.” Dex racks the balls. “Want to make it interesting this time?” His smile turns devilish.

“Depends what you have in mind,” I smile, teasing.

“Hmmm…” He pretends to think. “How about, loser plays a forfeit. Anything the winner decides.”

“Anything?” My pulse kicks. I can only imagine what Dex would have in store for me.

“It goes both ways,” he points out. “What do you say, sweetheart? Want to take the bet?”

I bite my lip. I can think of a hundred things I want from him. Another kiss, for starts. But if I lose, then I’m writing Dex a blank check to demand whatever he wants from me.

Sounds like a win-win to me.

“OK then,” I decide, with a rush of adrenaline. I’m in deep already, there’s no point pretending I won’t take this all the way. I pluck the cue from his hands. “It’s a deal.”

I sashay to the head of the table, putting a swing in my step when I feel his eyes on me. My heart is racing as I lean over, carefully taking aim, and open with a clean strike that sends the set scattering wide and a striped ball ricocheting into the corner pocket.

Dex’s mouth drops open.

I grin, my confidence building. I circle the table to sink an easy stray ball, then set up a sweet sequence that sinks two more in swift succession.

“You little hustler.” Dex narrows his eyes at me, but there’s respect flashing in their midnight depths. “Have you been playing me all along?”

“Me?” I widen my eyes, doing my best innocent look. “It’s beginner’s luck, I’m sure.”

“Right,” Dex drawls. He watches me sink another ball. “Damn, you know you’re just asking for trouble.”

“I thought you were the one in trouble,” I counter, grinning. “From the looks of it, you’re losing.”

I take another shot, smiling with triumph. I know I’m not the most likely candidate for a pool shark, but most people don’t realize, the game is just math. Angles, force, momentum and precision—a delicate equation that needs to be balanced just right. I study the table, plotting out my moves, then lean over to take the perfect shot.

Dex strolls closer to watch. He reaches out and strokes his fingers gently down the middle of my spine.

His touch blazes through my dress. I shiver. The cue slips a fraction of an inch to the left—but that’s all it takes. The ball goes wide.

“You did that on purpose!” I exclaim, straightening up.

Dex smirks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My shot.”

He circles the table and studies the spread.

Fine. Two can play that game.

Exhilaration sparkles in my bloodstream as I slowly lean over, resting on my elbows on the edge of the table. My sundress may be demure, but at this angle, Dex can’t help but see right down the front to the edge of my pale pink, lacy bra.

Sure enough, his eyes slip lower. Dex’s jaw tenses, and he grips the pool cue, his knuckles turning white.

I arch my back, sending my butt out behind me, high in the air.

“Go ahead,” I smile sweetly, “take your turn.”

“Devil woman,” he growls, going to make the shot. He strikes too hard, and the ball bounces back out of the pocket.

I clap my hands together in delight. “My turn!”

I pick up my cue and round the table with a skip. I’ve never felt like this before, so teasing and flirtatious.

I’m having fun.

Dex lounges against the wall, watching as I check the angles. I feel his gaze on me, that molasses stare, dark and reckless. It makes my whole body sing with awareness, my skin prickling under the thin fabric of my dress.

I force myself to focus, leaning to take the shot.

“How do you feel about bondage?”

Dex’s words crash through me. I jolt upright with a shock—just managing to keep my cue free from impact. “What?” I blink, gasping for air.

He smiles at me, dangerous. “You heard me,” he replies casually, as if we’re talking about the weather, or what’s on TV tonight. “I think I’m going to tie you down and make you beg for me.”

Holy shit.

Blood pounds in my head. I go dizzy, and cling to the edge of the pool table for balance.

“You’d make a pretty picture all wrapped up in silk,” Dex continues, his eyes never leaving mine. “You won’t be able to move, or resist. You’d be totally at my mercy. I’ll touch you however I want, gorge on your sweet body. Taste you. Everywhere.”

Desire floods me, a molten thrill. I can’t believe he’s saying these things.

I can’t believe I want it so bad.

“Take your turn.”

I stare blankly at him, confused, still caught up in the wicked promise of his words.

A smile plays on the edge of Dex’s lips. “It’s your shot, sweetheart.”

The game.

I look down at the table, my head scattered, all my focus gone. How on earth am I supposed to hold it together now, when my knees are shaking and my whole body aches for his touch?

I take a ragged breath, and try to pull myself together.

Get a grip, girl. This is exactly what he wants.

I do my best to make the shot, and as I release the cue, I think I might just have made it. But at the last minute, the ball spins away, and barely grazes the pocket.

“What happened, baby?” Dex grins. “Something shake your game?”