Biker Chicks: An Anthology of Hot MC Romance (33 page)

“Rack them up?” She asked and he nodded, placing the brightly colored balls into the triangular rack in accordance to the pattern she had thought of when she asked him to do it.

“You rack, I break,” she said and with a smirk hit the cue as hard as she could.

4

The trouble Danielle always had with playing pool against a guy was she could never be certain if he would get his poor, manly feelings hurt if he got his ass kicked by a girl. But a guy that would buy an entire bottle of raspberry Vodka without a care what people thought of him, just because he liked the label, didn’t seem the type to be easily offended. Gay, maybe. But not offended.

It had been a good break sinking two solids and giving a decent spread of balls across the table. Danielle strutted her way around the table, well aware of his eyes on her, and even more aware of how great her ass looked in the tight fitting leather pants she was wearing.

His eyes followed her as she moved around the table and she leaned over directly across from him, giving him an ample view down the front of her bright red low cut shirt. His eyes flicked up a moment later and met hers and she smirked knowingly at him, expecting him to blush or stutter a denial of staring at her and then, probably look away. Instead, he met her gaze steadily for a moment, before looking back at the deep expanse of her cleavage. It was Danielle that ended up flustered, his gaze suddenly making her feel thoroughly naked and vulnerable, and her next shot didn’t go well at all. She scratched and he stood and made his way around to retrieve the cue ball from its pocket.

She racked her brain as he looked over the table, probably deciding where to set up his shot. There had to be a way for her to get under this guy’s skin. No one was as implacable as he appeared to be. It simply wasn’t possible.

“A simple game of pool seems… prosaic,” he said and she startled slightly, the sound of his deep voice washing over her ear, his breath brushing delicately against her skin and she turned to find him standing right there. He was so close she could feel the heat generated by his body and her mouth worked silently up and down for a moment before she was finally able to craft a coherent sentence.

“Y-yeah?” Ok, less of a sentence, but she got the one word out and she was rather proud of herself for managing that much. His presence was distracting and the nagging ache, the need she felt building in her gut and between her legs was driving her to further distraction.

He nodded, dark eyes regarding her with such intensity that she felt small and insignificant before him.

“Yes,” he breathed. “What if we added a wager to the situation? Make things a little more interesting?”

The way he spoke, a delightful shiver ran though her body and unbidden the image rose in her mind of her on her knees, sucking his cock if he won the game.

“What kind of wager?” she asked, trying not to get her hopes up. With her luck he’d want to bet the next round of drinks.

But, as if he had read her mind, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “If I win, I want you on your knees with my dick in your mouth.”

5

Death stepped away, leaving her gaping at him in shock, her chest heaving slightly with elevated breath and when he suddenly moved, she stumbled a bit, as if she’d tried to lean against him and he suddenly wasn’t there anymore. He set the cue ball, still held in one hand, on the table and positioned it where he wanted before he took up a cue and set himself up for his shot, leaning far over the table. Before he shot, though, he glanced up, dark eyes meeting Danielle’s dark brown orbs as he waited for her answer.

Her shocked look had turned into a coy smirk. “And what if I win?” she practically purred.

He shrugged awkwardly, still poised over the table, waiting to shoot. “I’m sure you’ll think of something appropriate. If you think you’ve got a chance to beat me, that is.” His tone was challenging and the competitive side of her reared its head, hackles raised as it sensed a threat to its dominance.

“Oh you’re on, Sweetheart,” she growled. “But only because you’re just so damn pretty.” He smirked, one corner of his mouth curving up in the sexiest damn smile she’d ever seen and she turned away to grab her beer, and to hide the embarrassed expression that she knew was etched all over her face. Not for the first time she thanked her dark skin tone for capably hiding the blush that she was sure would have stained her cheeks a brilliant red had she been fairer complexioned.

Behind her she heard the solid report of the cue hitting the ball and then the clacking sound as it struck other balls on the table. He was good, she admitted privately, when she turned and observed the table. With one shot he sank a stripe and the ball rolled to where he had a good line up to sink two more; which he did. He missed the third shot but it didn’t leave her much to work with and she frowned. She studied the table for a moment all the while wondering if she didn’t just want to lose on purpose.

Her douche-canoe of a now ex-boyfriend was still on her mind and she was pissed and wanted a revenge fuck. But if she won she could demand he eat her for a bit first before she went ahead and wrapped her lips around him. Just out of common courtesy, of course. Returning the favor, so to speak.

She carefully lined up her next shot and succeeded in sinking another three but the more she thought about it the more flustered she became and she scratched on the fourth ball, giving him another chance to shoot. With two balls left on the table plus the eight ball she felt reasonably confident compared to his four. The satisfied smirk slowly fell away from her face though as he rapidly sank the last four, one after another until he had only the eight ball left to win the game.

“You’re a lot better at this than you let on,” she said, slightly breathless. The burning between her legs just got stronger the longer the game went on. She was more than willing to keep her end of the bet, and reasonably positive she could get it to go beyond just her blowing him. But the anticipation was starting to get the better of her.

He smirked but said nothing and took his shot at the eight. He missed, the ball rattling in the pocket for a moment but not dropping. It rested instead, just at the edge of the corner pocket and she smiled and strutted her way over to the table. She sank her last two and with a satisfied smirk turned and struck the cue ball. The ball rolled, spinning horizontally as well as vertically as she put far too much english on the shot in her eagerness to win the game. It struck the bumper, just kissed the eight ball on its way by and she gave a triumphant little shout when the black ball sank into the corner pocket.

Her celebration slowly died though as the cue continued to roll, spinning so rapidly that the ball curved around and dropped itself neatly into the middle pocket.

“That’s so not possible,” she muttered, staring wide eyed at the table. “How the hell did
that
happen?”

Death always wins in the end, he thought idly to himself. Never had he been forced to really exert himself at any game. The inevitability of Death, always worked in his favor. You can’t cheat Death. You can’t win against Death. Death
always
wins.

He put down his cue, laying it across the faded green felt and slowly approached Danielle, stalking toward her gracefully like a predator and she was the prey.

“I believe we have a bet to conclude?”

6

Danielle stared, open mouthed, at the table for a few moments.
How the hell did that happen?
she wondered. Then his words caught up to her and her bewilderment turned into a sly smirk that she fought to keep from her lips. She didn’t want to appear
too
eager to suck this guy’s dick, right? She turned to look at him and took in his broad, muscular build and chiseled features, and corrected the thought. She really
did
want to suck his dick, so why hide any eagerness?

That thought decided, she walked toward him, a deliberate sway in her hips, and flattened her palms against his broad chest. When faced with an opportunity such as he presented, she figured she could set aside thoughts of impossible pool losses, and the desire not to appear too eager. Best to just focus on the task at hand. At that precise moment the only task in her mind was a revenge fuck for the way her douchebag ex-boyfriend had treated her.

James had pissed her off to no end. She had put a lot of time and effort into their relationship for him to just throw it all away like that. Just to fuck some skank… She shook her head and grinned up at her mystery opponent. She was tempted to ask his name, but the not knowing seemed to add a little thrill to her. She couldn’t remember ever fucking some guy and not even getting his name.

“A deal is a deal,” she cooed quietly. “But I’m not sure you’d really want to whip that out right here.” She let one hand trail down his body and she deliberately grabbed ahold of him through his slacks, pleased with what she found there and her pulse quickened just as he hardened under her touch.

“If not here, then where?” he asked. Danielle looked around, her lips pursed in thought.

“That’s good question,” she admitted. “I’m sure we’ll find somewhere suitable.” She gave him a squeeze and let out a throaty laugh when he jumped slightly. “Come on, beautiful,” she said. “This way.” She hooked her fingers through the front of his belt and started walking away, brazenly leading him along behind her toward the back door.

Behind them she heard someone let out a wolf-whistle and she laughed again, another thrill running through her body at the thought that someone obviously had an idea of what she had planned. Not that she even knew for sure. All she knew was she did promise to suck his dick, and that’s what she was going to do. Whether she finished him off with her mouth, however, was an entirely different story.

The backdoor opened to an empty dirt lot with a simple wooden picnic table and some benches close to the building. A nearby barbecue with a heavy cover draped over it gave evidence to the primary use of the table but she had an entirely different purpose in mind.

“Over here,” she muttered and tugged on his belt, dragging him over and turning him so he was leaning back against the table. “This’ll do well enough.” Her fingers began caressing the flat planes of his abs, trailing down across the smooth material of his shirt until she came into contact with his belt again. She looked up at him, fingers pulling gently at the belt. “Kiss me,” she whispered and he smiled, leaning down to do as he was bid.

He was warm, solid against her, and tasted of raspberry vodka. She sighed against his lips, his tongue gently exploring her mouth as he kissed her. Her breath came faster, her heart pounding in her chest and she slid her hands back up his chest to start working on the buttons of his shirt. One at a time, working her way down, she pressed her lips gently to his skin as each button bared more of his flesh to her hands and mouth. By the time she tugged his shirt from his pants she had dropped to her knees and she pressed a kiss just above his pants before then quickly unbuckled the belt and pulled open the fly of his pants.

“Why am I not surprised to find you’re not wearing and underwear,” she muttered with a grin tugging at her lips as she pulled his hard length free of his slacks and gently stroked one hand up and down the smooth length of his shaft. He sighed quietly, head tilting back slightly and she grinned again before she gently pressed her lips against his head. Since he first said what he wanted if he won the pool game she had been wondering what he would taste like and she wasted no more time finding out. Opening her mouth she placed the head of his cock on her tongue, let her lips close gently around him and slowly slid her mouth down.