Page 41 of The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker
She did as I said and then formed an open bridge with her left hand, placing the pool cue where she wanted it.
“Line it up. Cue, wrist, elbow all pointing where you want the ball to go. Drop your chin and keep your eyes steady.”
Her hair fell forward, and I tucked it behind her ear without thinking. She stilled, the air between us thrumming. It was the kind of magnetic moment that would be easy to ignore, if I were the kind of man who ignored things.
I leaned in close. “Yeah, I felt it too, darlin’.”
She made a strangled noise and muttered, “Seriously? You can’t say that while you’re teaching me. Do you want me to miss and take out the light fixture?”
I laughed against her hair. “Aim for the pocket, not the ceiling.”
She grumbled something about hot bikers that I didn’t quite catch and then took the shot. Her bridge slipped at the last second, cue tip skimming. The ball crawled an inch.
Cursing, she straightened and turned to face me, her face undone and radiant, so goddamn gorgeous I almost forgot we weren’t alone. “That fail was sponsored by your corruption of my hand-eye coordination.”
I crowded her against the table until there was barely a breath between us. Her back met the edge, cue trapped at her side, and I didn’t bother hiding what was written all over my face. The kind of desire that wasn’t fit for a public setting.
She sucked in a breath and grabbed my shirt, the tug sending a ripple through me.
“Eden.” My voice was ragged.
Her lips parted, eyes hungry, the current snapping between us, pulling hard. Christ, I wanted to devour her. Instead, I stole one rough kiss, fast and firm. Not the kiss I burned for, but the one I could get away with in a room full of people.
She made a quiet, desperate sound, her hand sliding from my shirt to my hip, fingers digging in like she needed me to hold her up.
“Teaching you pool might’ve been a fuckin’ terrible idea for this date,” I said after I broke the kiss.
Her grip tightened. “Yep. Awful idea. I’m one bad angle away from riding your thigh until security kicks us out.”
I chuckled and pulled back to look at her. “Okay, let’s see that shot again. I’ll do my best to keep you from my thigh.”
She scrunched her nose at me like I’d said something she hated, but her eyes were smiling. “How boring.”
“Don’t fuckin’ tempt me, sweetheart. I’m only just keeping my hands to myself.” Then, I took a step back, jerked my chin, and said, “Show me what you’ve got.”
We played for the next hour, and I coached. Eden wasn’t hopeless. She had flashes of talent. But mostly, she was spectacularly chaotic. She rushed each shot and aimed with hope instead of geometry.
So, I slowed her down and made her breathe. When her elbow drifted, I set it. When her aim was off, I showed her the spot to hit and reminded her to think about the follow through.
She eventually sank a couple back-to-back. Then she went soft on the next shot, easing it instead of driving it. The ball sank, but the cue ball died right where it landed, which would have been perfect if her goal was to ruin her next move.
She grimaced as she realised the mistake she’d made. “That felt right. What did I do wrong?”
“You lifted your head too soon.” I rolled the cue ball back and reset the shot for her.
She glared at the table like it was at fault. “Rude.”
“Try again.”
She nodded, eyes bright with the stubbornness I’d been seeing all night as she filed corrections into a mental list. Data points, that’s what she’d called them earlier. Eden catalogued everything. I loved watching it happen.
She took the shot. Nailed it.
“Yes,” she hissed, fist tight in victory.
I watched her bask for a second. I wanted to put a thousand of those looks on her face.
While she lined up the next shot, I let my eyes take a tour down to her throat, to the slope of her skin where her T-shirt slid off one shoulder, to the tiny scar near her elbow I wanted the story for. Then back up to her mouth that was making shapes as she calculated angles, muttering to herself under her breath. She had no idea how fucking beautiful she was when she thought too hard.
