“Good news for you, even though you haven’t kept up with your alcohol,” he said. “You’re finally going to find out what I was going to do to you in the bar.”
“Is that so,” I said, taking a few more sips of the beer in my hand as I watched him call a corner pocket. “I have no idea what that might be!”
“Well,” he said as he lined up his shot.
Then, with one swift motion of his arm driving the stick forward, he landed the eight-ball exactly where he was going to call it.
“There’s something else I didn’t tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“House rule. You get shut out. You have to get naked.”
The words excited me. My panties were getting soaked. My entire body shivered with anticipation.
“So let’s start with me getting to do what I want.”
There was no hesitation this time. There was no slow walk over. There was no buildup—the buildup had been the game and the meeting at Porter Ridge Brewing and over coffee.
He grabbed me in his arms, lifted me up, and enveloped my lips with his. His kiss pried open my mouth, and our tongues danced around each other, picking up where we had left ten years ago. It was as if we had never been out of communication in that time.
My mind went blank. I didn’t think about what this might mean, what this could lead to, or anything else. I was just focused on the touch and the pleasure that came with it. I felt Brock lead me somewhere, but I didn’t care where. I wanted him so badly, I could have fulfilled that pool table fantasy.
Suddenly, I felt myself flying in the air. I opened my eyes, screamed, and then laughed when I landed on a bed. He shut the door behind him with his foot and took his shirt off. He looked even better than I had imagined him.
“Oh, hell yes,” I said, a wicked grin coming over my face.
“It’s even better than before,” he said.
He kicked his jeans off and crawled on top of me. I reached down and felt his bulging cock trying to shove their way out of his underwear. I took off my shirt. He moved my bra aside and sucked on my breasts, swirling his tongue around the nipple. I arched and moaned into him; I’d never felt this horny in my life.
He got down to my jeans. He ripped my belt buckle off, got his hands inside my pants, and—
“Shit!”
Both of us paused as we heard someone scream outside.
“Anarch—”
A loud explosion followed. Brock quickly jumped on me, but the explosion and its effects were contained to the outside.
“Brock!” someone shouted.
Brock looked at me with disappointment and fury in his eyes. I knew it was not directed at me, but all the same, I knew better than to stop him.
“What’s going on?” I asked, the one question I needed answered.
He shook his head as he put his clothes on.
“Club business,” he said. “Stay here. It’s about to get violent.”
And now you know why you should never have gotten back with him in the first place.
Savage Redemption Page 4
