Page 26 of Not Falling for the Forward
She’s funny, as well as smart and so fucking gorgeous, I don’t know how I got so lucky to be here with her today. During our conversation the couple at the pool table have left. “You want a game?” I ask, pointing to the table, one eyebrow up.
She smirks, “You think your pride can handle losing to me?”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” I wink.
She stands and walks towards the table and for a moment I am struck stupid in my chair. I knew her arse would look mesmerising in those jeans, I just hadn’t had the privilege of seeing her from behind yet. The jeans in question hug her hips and arse perfectly, tight enough that I’m concerned for her circulation. In fact, I’m concerned about mine now as my gaze roams up her body and I see that her top is only held together by two tiny strings, tied into bows around her neck and back. No bra. One pull on those strings and she’d be naked from the waist up. All that soft skin on show, those perfect tits available from just the pull of two strings. Yeah, my circulatory issue is definitely getting worse, and my jeans are making the issue painful.
Emily turns her head over her shoulder, catching me red handed gawking at her. “I think you’re drooling, Jack.” She smirks and flicks her head back making her hair bounce.
I grin and shake my head trying to refocus my brain. I’m fucked.
***
“Best of three?” she asks from the other side of the table, taking a sip of her diet coke. She switched to non-alcoholic drinks following her second glass of wine to ‘keep a cool head for the game’.
“That would insinuate you had won one of the games,” I parry.
“Yes, the first one.”
“You potted the black!” I grin.
“On a practice shot,” she says, which makes me laugh and I get a grin in return. “Okay, so I’m not as good as I used to be.” She shrugs.
“I’m starting to think you were never good.” She barks a laugh at my teasing comment. It’s so fun to be with someone you can take the piss out of and have them laugh back and not be upset.
“Maybe I need lessons?” She walks around to my side of the table and I turn to face her. “Maybe I need a big, tall man to lean over the table with me when I’m about to take my shot and show me what to do.” My eyes flare at the image she is portraying in my head.
I take a step closer to her so we are almost touching. “Is that what you want?” My voice comes out gravely. She tilts her head so she can look into my eyes, her face is so close, her plump lips looking kissable, it would be so easy to brush them with mine.
She lets out a shaking breath. “Your break,” she whispers and takes a step back and turns towards the table for the new game.
She watches me like a hawk the next few shots I take, trying to actually learn how to play? Or something else. She’s not a horrendous player, she’s just not exactly good either. She can see a line for the shots she wants to take, she just can’t hit the balls so they follow that line.
“You want to hit that a little to the left,” I instruct as she leans over the table to line up her next attempt. She looks over her extended hand at me and her hair falls in her face,cute. She brushes it away revealing a slight scowl.
“I wasn’t joking before you know, I really could do with the help from this end,” she says and my heart stops. See the reason why I haven’t been going for the classic move of getting up close to her and showing her the shot, is for the same reason I have avoided being on the same side of the table as her when she has been leaning over it to take those shots. That. Fucking. Arse. In. Those. Fucking. Jeans.
“Right.” I clear my throat and make my way around the table. Oh shit, it’s worse than I imagined. Worse or better? Either way, I am fucked.
She is bent over and stretched out across the pool table, her legs slightly apart feet tiptoeing in those strappy heels that would look incredible over my shoulders. Her hips hinge just at the right height for her ass to be supported by the corner of the table. Which would make a perfectly sturdy base for all the images in my mind to play out. And that arse! Fuck. There is no other word for it apart from perfect.
She looks over her shoulder at me noticing my hesitation, “You okay?”
No. “Yeah,” I have to clear my throat again, my mouth suddenly very dry. I step up behind her, “Is it okay if I touch your arms?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I lean over her trying not to touch anywhere but her arms as I direct them into a better position holding the cue. “Like this,” I coach, my voice is lower than I remember it being before.
Together we aim the ball, I pull her right arm back and we push the cue forward tapping the white ball. We straighten as we watch it hit the striped ball we had aimed for sending it slowly rolling in to the middle-left pocket.
“YEAH!” Emilys hands fly up as she spins around to face me flinging herself into my arms. “I did it!” she exclaims as she does little happy jumps, threading her arms around my neck. She stops jumping andstares up at me a huge grin across her face, I can’t help but grin back. My hands are on her hips and I squeeze them tightly. God these are good hips.
Emily’s eyes are fixed on mine again, her pupils blown. Her smile has dropped to a smaller one, but the joy is still there. “Thank you for helping me,” she says.
“You’re very welcome.” My eyes are transfixed on her full lips and I watch as her tongue slides out to lick them, slowly sucking the bottom one in as it goes back. She bites it before it pops back out, shimmering.
Her body is pressed so close to mine and I am hyperaware of every inch that we touch. Her breath tickles my neck just below my ear as she leans up to me. “Can I take your hat off?” I am slightly taken aback by the question and it must show because she continues, “It’s blocking the light from your eyes, and I want to see the different colours in them.”
