I hear Sophie and her friends explode in laughter, their noise crashing through the quiet of the bar. I glance over at them, and her eyes catch mine.
I realize I’m doing exactly what I promised her I wouldn’t. I have to relax and stop overthinking things. Live in the moment, like I promised her.
Gabe finishes his drink, and sets the glass on the table.
“Another beer?” he asks.
“Actually, I was going to suggest we go to a different bar.”
“Music to my ears.”
Abandoning the rest of my beer, I stand. Gabe stands, and takes my hand. As we walk to the door, I look over at Sophie. She gives me the thumbs up and laughs. I give her the finger.
Back in Gabe’s truck, I say, “I feel like we’re playing musical chairs tonight.”
“Maybe next time we should stay in.”
I push the thought of a next time out of my head. Sophie would be proud.
“Who was that guy at the first restaurant anyway?”
“Marshall. He owns Hell in a Needle. And is an asshole.”
“So he’s a business rival.”
“One who doesn’t keep things professional. I didn’t want him to cause a scene.”
We drive in silence while I contemplate the concept of someone causing a scene. The idea is foreign to me and I can’t imagine my father ever being in the situation where someone he knows might make trouble.
“I know a place just around the corner, it’s even got a pool table. Have you ever played pool?”
I stifle my smile and decide not to tell Gabe that I grew up with one in our game room. Sophie and I spent half our childhood playing, and still play almost every weekend.
“No, never. But it sounds fun.”
15.Gabe
The bar is almost empty. I don’t care, I’m just glad to get out of that other place. One Hutchinson is all I can take, and that’s only because it’s Eloise. When Eloise said her sister was there, I nearly walked away and went home. All I could think of was my father, drunk, ranting about how he wanted them all to die. But the memory of the way Eloise responded to my touch forced its way to the front of my mind and made me stay.
I order a Coke for me, Diet Coke for Eloise.
“No beer?” she asks.
“We’re both going to want to be sober tonight,” I say and wink.
Holding the drinks in one hand, I hook my other arm around Eloise and we weave through the tables to get to the pool table.
It might be my imagination, but she finally seems to be relaxing. I only hope she’s having as much fun as I am.
The fact that she clams up any time I mention a next time hasn’t been lost on me. I trust any hang-ups she has about me will be forgotten after I get off her clothes. And I trust I’ll forget my hang-ups about the Hutchinsons after I make her quiver and moan.
I’m not even sure why I need there to be a next time so badly. Half my brain is telling me to fuck her and walk away. The other half is jumping up and down the way I did in grade school. I was determined to make her mine then, and feel the same way now. As long as I can suppress the part of me that is warning me off getting involved with a Hutchinson.
The pool table is in a back room and separated from the rest of the bar by saloon doors. I can’t help picturing Eloise bent over it, her skirt flicked up and me pounding into her from behind.
But I have to stick to the plan.
I feed the coins into the table, releasing the balls. Eloise listens carefully as I explain the rules while I set up the table. When I finish setting up the balls, I glance up at her.
Even though I’ve been with her all evening, she makes my breath stop. She’s beautiful.
Her lips are parted, and I can’t help thinking about how soft they were when I kissed her earlier. I clear my throat and turn away from the table.
“This is a cue.” I take a cue from the rack on the wall, and hold it out to her.
Eloise takes it from me, and examines it clinically. I move behind her, and take her hands in mine. I slide her right hand toward the back of the cue, and lay the top of the cue on the base of her left thumb.
“You rest it in the base of your thumb and slide it back and forth with your right hand.”
With my body pressed up against hers, I lean her over the table and move the cue back and forth a few times, letting her get the feel of it.
Not wanting away from her, I keep on moving the cue.
“I think I get the picture,” she says.
“Just making sure.”
Eloise throws her head back in a silent laugh, exposing her long neck. My mouth is close, and I long to sink my teeth into it. My dick twitches and I step away before it turns into a full-on erection.
“I’ll break,” I say.
I blast the white ball down the table, and the colored balls scatter and bounce over the green felt.
“Your turn. Aim at any ball you want.”
“I think I need your help.”
Willing my dick to behave, I position myself behind her. I hold her hand again, showing her how to guide the cue.
“Got it?” I ask.
“I’m not sure, maybe a few more.”
Fuck. Having her this close to me is impossible. No man can resist this kind of temptation.
“Ready to take your shot? It doesn’t matter if you miss.”
“I think I’m ready. Which ball do I aim at?”
“Any of them except the black, but this yellow solid looks like the easiest shot.”
Eloise looks at me, fighting a grin. Her eyes twinkle and I can’t figure out what’s up with her.
She sets her hand on the table and takes aim. With confidence, she snaps her arm back, and hits the white ball with her cue. The ball smacks into the yellow ball, which rolls down the table and into the corner pocket.
“You sure hit that ball with force for someone who’s never played before.” She’s obviously played before.
“Must be my teacher. What I do now, do I keep going?”
“The table’s yours.”
“Can you show me how to hold the cue again?”
“Are you sure you need my help?”
Eloise steps closer to me, and rests her hand on my chest. She looks straight into my eyes, and says, “I definitely need your help. That’s why I’m here, remember?”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
She turns, and holds the cue out in front of her. I position myself behind her, leaving a gap so she doesn’t notice my hard cock.
“Like this, nice and smooth.”
“Nice and smooth,” she repeats, leaning her head back to mine, her hair catching in my stubble.
Unable to see this ending the way I’d planned, I step away from her. I take a drink of my Coke, wishing I’d ordered some Jack to go with it.
Eloise takes aim and sinks the blue ball in the side pocket. Without looking at me, she threads the white ball between two stripes and sinks the green ball.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, laughing.
“Like I said, you’re a real good teacher.”
“Why’d you do it to me, Eloise? What did I do to deserve this?” I’m joking, but I say it in a serious tone to be funny.
Her brow furrows, and she stands straight, with a distant look in her eye. I wait for her to laugh, or respond, or anything, but she remains lost in thought.
“I was just joking. I’m glad you know how to play, that makes things much more fun.”
Falling back against the pool table, she says, “I just remembered something. You said that to me before. Exactly that. I’d totally forgotten.”
“I did?” I ask, confused.
“In seventh grade, right before you moved away. It’s all coming back to me now. You said it was all my fault that you had to move away. That everything was my fault.”
“I don’t remember that.”
But of course I remember it. I blamed Eloise for everything. She was my easiest target. The nearest Hutc
hinson to take out my anger on.
“What was my fault?”
“I don’t know. Who cares what I said when I was twelve. You probably splashed mud on my shoes or something.”
Eloise quirks her eyebrow. “You cared about getting mud on your shoes?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, maybe they were new.”
“Why did you move away, anyway?”
These are questions I don’t want to answer.
“My parents split.” It’s half true, at least.
“And you moved away because of that?”
“We moved to Pittsburgh to be near my mother’s family. Any more questions before I start whooping your ass at this game?”
To my relief, Eloise laughs, and says, “In your dreams.”
She takes a tricky shot at the side pocket but hits one of my stripe balls first.
“My turn,” I say, chalking my cue.
I sink four stripes before missing a bank shot. We go back and forth, and are pretty evenly matched players. Amazing, considering I spent most of my teenage years in pool halls.
In the end, Eloise wins the first game. We play three more, I win the next two and Eloise wins the last. The entire time we’re playing, we laugh and joke. She’s definitely loosened up from when I picked her up from her apartment.
“That’s two each. Tiebreaker?” she asks.
“Next time,” I say to see how she’ll react.
She throws her head back chuckling, and says, “I’ll be prepared next time. You’ll be lucky to win one game.”
Next time. That’s all I needed to hear. She’s mine, even before I bring her to her knees.
I set my cue on the pool table and quickly move towards her. For the first time tonight, I don’t fight my desires.
Planting my hands on the small of her back, I pull her tight against me.
16.Eloise
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for all night. Gabe’s muscular arms are wrapped around my waist, his hard dick digging unapologetically into me.
My heart pounds, waiting to leave this bar. Waiting for him to take me home and rip my clothes off and throw me on my bed.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been watching you bent over that table all night? Your juicy ass stuck out, begging to be grabbed?” he growls into my ear.
The butterflies from earlier return from wherever they’ve been hiding, and fill my chest with their flutters.
“I wasn’t stopping you.”
“You were teasing me.” His voice is raw with want.
Gabe releases his hold on my waist. Bringing his hands to my face, he cups my cheeks. For a moment we simply gaze into each other’s eyes. The intensity of his stare blasts straight into my core. I forget to breathe.
Still under his spell, I’m caught off guard when he slides his hands back, meshing his fingers into my hair. His action makes me gasp.
Like an animal, he crushes his lips against mine. All the heat in the universe pools between my legs. My lips part and our tongues frantically attack each other.
Without meaning to, I moan. He breaks our kiss. Gabe spins me and pushes me near the pool table.
“I really appreciate your bare shoulders in this dress,” he says, kissing and nipping over them. “I love how they turn red whenever your cheeks do.”
My hands clutch the bumper on the table. He sucks the fleshy base of my neck, which somehow connects straight to my pussy.
Gabe runs his hand down my neck, over my back and the curve of my ass. His fingers reach the hem of my skirt and pull it up. He nudges my feet further apart and cups my mound.
Grunting in approval, he says, “You soaked right through your panties.”
I throw back my head and grind into his hand. This is crazy. We need to go back to my place. He runs his hand over my ass, and hooks his finger in the hem of my panties. I tense as he slides them down my thighs, all the way to my feet. He lifts my right foot, and tugs my panties over it.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice breathy.
“Making you feel good.”
“We can’t. Not here.”
“It’s fine. No one can see us,” he says, and pushes my chest onto the table.
Before I can protest, his fingers move through my folds and find that same spot he had a hold of in his tattoo parlor. My knees buckle and my upper body flattens against the table as it holds me up.
Forgetting where I am, I close my eyes and let the tingling fill me. He keeps rolling the spot behind my clit, just like he did before. Only this time it feels even better. Possibly because we both know where this is going, possibly because I’m not so freaked out. Even if I am laying face down on a pool table in the backroom of a bar.
My arousal builds and I fight to silence my mind for wanting to stop doing this here in the bar.
Wet trickles from my entrance and down my thighs. I could never stop him. Not when he’s making me feel like this.
Still rolling his fingers, he lowers his body and kisses my ass cheeks. His teeth sink into my flesh, and my mind tries to protest that he’ll leave a mark. But it’s silenced by the pure, screaming lust that he’s creating.
His kisses move lower, and he sucks my thighs. Gabe grunts when he tastes the wet on my legs. His breathing is heavy and the warm exhales from his nose coat my skin in tingles.
He licks up the inside of my left thigh, his stubble rough on my soft skin. His tongue cleans the wet from my thigh. When he reaches the top of my leg, he runs his tongue over my lips and I think I actually might die right there on the table.
The sensation is almost too intense to bear.
My mind wanders ahead, to me on my back in my bed and him moving on top of me. Gabe dips his tongue into my entrance and I snap back to the present.
Good fucking God I want more.
I spread my legs wider and tilt my ass higher, trying to give him better access from his position.
Gabe smacks it with his free hand, and grips it hard. I know I’ll have a handprint there tomorrow, along with the bite marks. And I don’t even care. I don’t even care that we’re not in a private home, the only type of place I’ve ever done anything like this. Or that I’m letting someone I’m not in a relationship with do this to me. All I care about is the way he’s making me feel.
He still hasn’t stopped rolling his fingers when his tongue dips into me again. He takes it out, and licks around my entrance. His circles grow bigger, and before I know what’s happened, he licks my asshole.
I gasp and flinch, my eyes shoot open. But the hand on my ass holds me steady. He grunts, and licks it again, prodding it harder this time.
He pinches the fingers holding my clit extra hard, and the sudden tension his tongue created leaves my body. But he leaves his tongue where it is, dancing over my surprisingly sensitive asshole.
Gabe lets go of my ass cheek, and drives his finger into my slick entrance. He keeps it shallow, and adds a second finger. He prods them against my sensitive front wall, while the fingers of his other hand roll on my clit and his tongue licks my asshole.
My body screams from head to toe.
I can’t hear or think about anything other than the way Gabe’s making my body feel.
Every muscle I have tenses and coils like a spring.
And then it happens.
For the first time ever.
Release hits me with the force of a ten-ton atomic bomb, and a tidal wave rockets out in all directions, with my pussy as the epicenter.
My walls clamp tight on Gabe’s fingers. Every muscle I have pulsates. And, just like in my books, wave after wave washes over me.
In pure, primal reflex, I scream at the top of my lungs.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” a man’s voice roars.
My eyes fly open. The bartender is standing red-faced at the opening to the pool table area.
“Get the fuck out of my bar now!”
The waves are still washing over me, and I find it impossible to move or c
are.
Gabe takes his hands away and stands. He pulls me away from the table.
“Easy, buddy, we’re just having some fun on a first date.”
“Well first date your ass the hell out of my bar before I make you steam clean the felt.”
My legs are useless pieces of spaghetti. Gabe half carries me away from the pool table.
“The floor’s messier than the table,” Gabe says as we push pass the bartender.
He bundles me out of the bar and through the parking lot. Opening the door of his truck, he lifts me into the passenger seat.
“I need my dick in you, now. I’ve never needed my dick to be anywhere so bad in my life.”
“My apartment?”
“Hell no, that’s too far. I can’t wait that long.”
Gabe shuts my door, and gets in the driver seat. He turns on the engine and pulls out of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He pounds the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “I’m so fucking pissed off.”
“Why?” I ask, assuming it’s not at me.
“Because that asswipe interrupted your first climax.”
“I can’t believe you were actually able to do what you said you could.” Or that he did that where he did.
He looks at me and grins from ear to ear. “You doubted me?”
My body is still a tingling mess, and remnants of waves still push through my body. I feel euphoric.
“Anyway,” he says, “I’m gonna make you feel that way again without the interruption.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“I don’t see how you can.” Maybe in a week or so, not now.
“Easy. With my big fucking cock. Trust me, Jewel, that was just a little something to whet your appetite.”
17.Gabe
My heart slows, it was hammering against my ribs in rage at that stupid fucking bartender barging in on us like that. At least now I’m back on plan. I want to take my time with Eloise.
I ease the truck out of the parking lot and head to nearby Genesee Valley Park, my planned destination all along.
With my right hand, I feel for the folded comforter I crammed between the seats earlier. Satisfied it’s still there, I reach across and rest my hand on Eloise’s thigh. Sometimes I really hate bucket seats.
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