Page 4 of Wrecked Rose

Griff laughs, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

“I’m out.” Xander lifts his hand and walks out, leaving Griff and me alone.

I glance around, trying to hide how difficult it feels for me to swallow right now. “It’s the middle of a party. You’d think there would be more people down here hanging out.”

“Nah. They’re all too busy drinking and playing strip poker and hot tubbing in the freezing cold and finding random places to fuck in my house.” Griff adjusts the racked balls. “You want to break?”

Oh, hell.Those blue eyes are locked on me and it’s making me sweat. There’s a weird electricity crackling through the air between us, and I’m not at all sure what to make of it. I mean, I know where it’s coming from on my end. But damn. Does he flirt with anything with a pulse? “Nope. Your house. You break.” I work my jaw side to side as I take him in. “Besides, can’t wait to see how you handle your stick—from the shaft all the way to the tip.” I slide my palm over my cue stick and press my lips together. I have no fucking clue what he’ll think of my innuendo-laced comment. Probably that I’m fucking gay and prone to saying funny shit—especially when drinking.

He busts out laughing. “Right.” Our gazes connect for a second before he bends down, expertly handling his stick, and sends the cue ball flying with a smack into the triangle of balls, scattering them across the table.

My pulse races as he stands up and surveys the table before bending again and putting the ten ball into the corner pocket. “Stripes.”

Game play proceeds, and I fully admit, I’m having a terrible fucking time concentrating on anything but him. The whiskey I’ve downed isn’t helping either. My eyes are glued to his every move, his stance, the sweep of hair falling over his brow, the way he chews a bit on his full lower lip as he’s contemplating the best play.

I’m a hot mess practically the whole damn game. My hands are sweaty, and I’m distracted by his sapphire stare. I wish I knew what he’s thinking. I haven’t a clue what made him come downstairs and join me in this game. And what’s really fun is that while he’s playing a leisurely game of pool with the funny gay dude who hangs out at his house, he probably doesn’t realize he’s inadvertently toying with my emotions… not to mention the automatic response my body has to his proximity. I’ve discreetly readjusted myself no fewer than three times in the last ten minutes.

Griffin walks around the table, studying his options for shots and finally decides on one that’s right where I’m standing. Instead of moving to the side, I torture myself by stepping backward and giving his ass a full-on ogle while he’s concentrating on his aim. It’s round, firm, and I’m betting muscular as hell. His jeans mold to the curve in the most sinful way. I have the errant thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I reached out and squeezed those ripe cheeks in my hands. Felt the strength for myself.

But, holy fuck, what would he do? Would he believe I was messing with him to fuck with his game? Would he laugh it off? Or would he turn those blue eyes my way, grab me, and crash his hard body against mine? I can’t say I’d have an objection to feeling every powerful inch of him.

My eyes slam closed. I’ve got to shut this down now before he realizes I’m totally turned on.

“You’re up.”

I blink, nodding. “Right.” I survey the table for a few seconds, then having made my decision, I lean down. Inhale deeply. Squint one eye a bit. All in the name of trying to focus on the game instead of on the wet-dream-inducing hunk of man standing off to my right.

Griffin steps toward my side as I’m lining up a shot and clears his throat. “Bring your upper body down lower, hips back. You’ll get a better view of the table and are more likely to make the shot.”

My heart thunders wildly as I shudder out an exhale. I tilt my head to the side to glance at him from beneath my lashes. Goddamn, he’s standing way too close. His scent drifts up my nose, and a fresh burst of desire rages through my body. I sure as hell hope he can’t tell that my cock is painfully swollen behind my zipper.

And if being so close wasn’t plenty to drive me wild, he puts his hand firmly in the middle of my back, applying gentle pressure. At his bidding, I drop my stance down further, silently cursing the transfer of heat from his big hand into my skin. It rushes through me, warming me everywhere. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, I line up the shot and slide the cue stick back and forth a few times before striking the cue ball, slamming the five ball into the side pocket.

For several seconds after the shot, I can’t breathe because his hand is still on my back.Holy fuck. Does he know what he’s doing to me?

And then the pressure from his hand is gone, almost like I imagined it—only, I didn’t. Rising from my shooting position, I set the butt of my cue on top of my shoe as I look at him.

He doesn’t seem at all affected by what he just did. With a grin, he says, “Good job. See? It worked.” And with a dashing smile, he points out the next play I should make.

It’s not long after that Griff has all of his striped balls in the pockets. He glances up at me from across the table. “Eight ball in the corner pocket.” He lines up the shot and sinks it.

“Good game. I guess I should have expected that you’d be a pool shark with the table down here.”

He shrugs. “It’s all angles, knowing how much power needs to be applied, and a steady hand.”

There’s simply no other way to put it—I’m obsessed with this guy. Griff Danbrook has infiltrated my mind, and I’m not sure how I’m going to get past what I see in him to give anyone else a fighting chance.

“So. Now that I’ve won, I think you owe me a little something.”

My brows go up at the naughty twinkle to his eye.What the hell is this?My lips twitch at the wickedly adorable smile he gives me. “Oh yeah? Don’t you think we should have established that there was some sort of bet at stake before we started playing?”

He grins sheepishly and shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I want to know why you keep calling me ‘legendary.’”

Relieved, I hold my hands up in surrender. “Fine, I suppose that’s fair. It’s about all your exploits. Your status is legendary. There is no girl at this party who wouldn’t want to be with you. They follow you around everywhere you go with their tongues lolling out of their mouths.” I snort at the look of shock on his face.

“So, that’s how you see me?” He tilts his head to the side, studying me.

I shrug with a lopsided grin. “I bet it actually gets to be a lot sometimes. And that’s why you came down here. You knew no one really hangs out in the game room at these parties, and you were hoping to fucking hide out. And it worked. Almost. Except … here I am, playing with your balls instead.” And I wink.Ah, fuck.What can I say? I can’t help myself when it comes to Griff. Hopefully, he assumes I’m fooling around.

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