Chapter 7 The Eight Ball
THE EIGHT BALL
QUINTON
She’s a vile, wicked woman. Pure evil. Completely diabolical.
I clench my teeth, controlling my desperate breathing as I attempt to disassociate from her wily strokes.
But I can’t. It’s all I can feel. Her touch.
Her torment. Her goddamn games. My cock throbs between her slender fingers, begging, fucking pleading for a release that never comes.
“Emer—”
“Shh…” she hums, a sly, satisfied smirk on her stupidly gorgeous face. Her gaze remains fixed on the stage as she slows her ministrations, once again defusing the impending bomb. She could be a fucking explosives expert!
“I am going inside to fetch another champagne,” Vivienne whispers in my direction. “Would you like another glass?” She looks over at me. “Emery? Another…juice?”
“I’m fine,” Emery says in a hushed tone, her smile so damn innocent as if she doesn’t have complete and utter control of my prick. “But maybe Quin would like one. I have a feeling he’s rather parched right now.” She tilts her head, eyes large and infuriating. “Hmm?”
“I’m fine.” I grunt through the discomfort. “Thank you.” I wait several seconds for Vivienne to be out of sight before I shift my body toward Emery and growl. “Enough, darling. You’ve proven your point.”
She has the audacity to smile at me. “My point? And what is my point?” Her grip tightens around me, her tone lower than before. “Tell me, Doctor. What point am I trying to prove?”
“Emery…”
She blinks. “Yes? Go on.” I remain tight-lipped, cursing her beauty, her brain, and her brawn. She sighs, clicking her tongue. “Do you need help, Doctor? Is the question too difficult to process in your current,” she glances down at the slight bulge beneath the plush blanket, “state?”
“It’s been nearly an hour of this,” I grumble, unwilling to drop the white flag just yet. This was supposed to be her torture. Not mine.
“And why is this happening, huh?” She cocks her head, glancing over my shoulder into the main house. “Is it because you did something wrong? Is it because, maybe, you brought that woman here to, I don’t know…” She feigns deep thought. “To make me jealous?”
I smirk at her. Perhaps I haven’t lost after all. “And it worked.” I flash her a grin. “Clearly.”
Her eyes narrow. “I don’t get jealous.”
I blink, gaze flitting to her python-like grip. “I beg to differ, darling. You’re one more stroke away from giving me severe carpet burn.” Her tiny glower forces me to laugh. “How’s your wrist, Emery? Sore yet?”
Her mouth gapes open, irritated. “I…” With one swift motion she yanks her hand away in a huff. I quickly zip up my trousers. “Bastard.”
Despite the lingering discomfort under my slacks, I release a soft chuckle. “I find you rather charming when you’re angry, darling.” Reaching over, I graze my knuckles across her frosty cheek. “Either the cold is causing you to blush or you’re fuming inside.”
She smacks my hand away. “Don’t.”
I let out a hushed laugh. “I should be the one who’s angry right now, darling.
But, since I’m a gentleman, I will extend you a very humble and sincere apology.
” She rolls her eyes. “Emery…” She sighs, slowly turning her head toward me, and I grin.
“I am so very sorry for putting you in such an uncomfortable situation, and I promise never to do it again. Will you ever forgive me?”
She glares at me. “You need to work on your apology tone. It almost sounds patronizing.”
I grab my chest, feigning offense. “I resent that whole-heartedly.”
Before Emery can counter, Vivienne appears over my shoulder just as act one comes to an end. “Quinton…” Her eyes widen with a familiar fear. “You must come now. Your brother…” She glances toward the billiards room. “He needs your help.”
My jaw tightens as I clench my fist. “Again?”
Emery’s brows furrow. “What’s going on?”
Without offering an explanation, I sigh and stand up, extending Emery my hand. “You’ll see soon enough. Let’s go.”
Vivienne leads us toward the billiards room while I inwardly curse my idiot brother.
Vivienne opens the door and I scan the room, ignoring the half dozen dignitaries until I find my inebriated sibling.
Will’s gait sways as he swirls his martini glass, his voice louder than socially appropriate for such an event.
“Double or nothing!” Will slurs, getting in the face of Claude, France’s wealthiest heir. And a degenerate gambler. Birds of a feather, as they say. “Come on, Claude. Ou as-tu peur?”
Claude snorts. “Scared? Of you?” He cranes his neck to his entourage and laughs. “Free money is my favorite. Fine. Double or nothing.”
“Fuck,” I grumble under my breath before breaking away from Emery. I charge toward Will and grab his forearm. “How much are you down? Huh?” I glance at Claude. “He’s done. No more.”
Will shakes my grip off, irritated. “Bugger off, mate.”
“But he’s already offered,” Claude says, a slithering smile on his face. “And I have accepted. There are witnesses. We must play. It’s the code.”
“He can barely stand,” I fume, loathing the bastard. “I believe the code has rules regarding one’s state of mind.”
Claude purses his lips. “Hmm…” His associate whispers something to him, and he lights up. “Well, in that case, I believe I have the opportunity to request a proxy.”
My teeth clench. “How much?”
Claude grins. “Five hundred.”
I shoot my brother a hardened side-eye. “I’ll do it.”
“Mmm,” Claude hums, scanning my muted features. “Maybe…” His gaze flicks behind me, and the corner of his lips curl into a smirk. “Or perhaps, it should be her.” He cocks his head. “Who are you, mademoiselle? You are new.”
I turn around to find Emery standing behind me, doe-eyed. Fuck. “She’s not—”
“I pick her,” he states to everyone. “After all, she is in the room, and she is your guest, is she not?” Claude looks at Emery, nodding, “Your name?”
“Emery,” she says quietly, before clearing her throat. “My name’s Emery.”
Claude smiles. “Well, Emery,” he nods down at the billiards table, “shall you win me some money then? I’ll rack it up while you…prepare.”
“I’m sorry!” Emery whispers, rushing to me as Claude collects the balls. “I don’t know why—”
I pinch my nose. “It’s not your fault, darling.”
“You bastard.” Will appears beside us, glowering. “I would have been fine! And now?” He looks down at Emery. “Have you ever even played pool before?”
Emery bites her lip, nervous. “No, but I mean…” She swallows. “It’s only five hundred dollars, right? I—”
William snorts. “Five hundred dollars? You’re a funny girl, Emery Jones.” He looks at me, bewildered. “She thought it was five hundred dollars! Comical, isn’t it?” He glances back at Emery. “It's five hundred thousand dollars.”
Emery’s mouth hangs up. “Half a million dollars?” she whispers. “Oh, I can’t—”
“Prep time is over,” Claude calls out. “Time to play.”
I place a hand on Emery’s shoulder, trying to ease her nerves. "Just breathe, darling. Don't worry about the money, alright? It’s just a game—”
“Half a million!” she whispers, hands shaking. “I…”
Quickly glancing at the felt and balls, I look back at Emery, her fear palpable.
“It’s a game, Emery. Like a puzzle.” I swallow, needing her to relax.
“And really, when it comes down to it, it’s math.
” Her head tilts, frowning. “It’s geometry, trigonometry, physics.
It’s math, Emery. It’s just a mathematical puzzle.
” I cup her cheek with my warm palm. “You love math, darling.”
“We are waiting!” Claude singsongs.
“Math?” Emery nibbles on her bottom lip as she side-eyes the table. “A puzzle.”
“Any day now!” Claude calls out.
“Just focus, darling,” I say, stepping to the side with my brother and Vivienne. “You got this, Emery. You do.”
“Okay…” She nods slowly. "Okay.”
As we approach the billiards table, Claude smirks, clearly confident in his victory. He sets up the balls and hands Emery a cue. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling hands.
The game begins and Emery steps up to the table. She surveys the arrangement of the balls, her brows furrowed as she recalls my advice. She takes a few practice strokes, biting her tongue in concentration.
Claude watches with a mix of amusement and arrogance. "Do you need some pointers, mademoiselle?"
Emery smiles politely but declines his offer.
She lines up her shot and takes it, sinking one of the striped balls into a corner pocket.
A murmur of surprise ripples through the crowd.
She twists her neck toward my brother and me, and there’s a hint of newfound confidence in her small, subtle smile.
I give her a nod of encouragement.
“Was that a lucky shot?” Will whispers. “Or is she…?”
“Just watch,” I say, unable to take my eyes off of her.
The room stays silent as Emery steals the goddamn show.
Her every move, every deliberate stroke is sensual, almost provocative.
She leans over the billiards table, her body arched and mesmerizing.
Her fingers caress the smooth surface of the cue, such a delicate touch that it sends a shiver down my spine.
As her gaze stays focused on the various balls scattered across the green felt, it’s like she’s entered a world of her own. A world she now rules.
Who knew math could be so sexy?
“Quinton…” Will swallows, glancing at her final ball. “She’s going to…” The cue ball clinks against the last stripped ball and rolls into the pocket. Will grabs my arm, nearly vibrating from impending victory.
“Do I win?” Emery asks Claude innocently.
Anger brims from Claude. “Not yet,” he grunts through clenched teeth. “You need to sink the eight ball.”
“Oh.” Emery blinks, arching over the table, and swiftly, almost like she’s mocking him, knocks the eight ball into the top right pocket. “Do I win now?”
“Merde!” Claude slams his cue stick on the table, storming out of the room in a huff.
Will quickly chases after him. “Ohhhh Claude! Where do you think you’re going, old friend? Claude!”
I stand off to the side as Emery shakes the hands of her newly established fan base and soaks in her unexpected win. Unexpected to her. I had full faith that she would be phenomenal.
“You were right,” Vivienne says as we both watch Emery’s victory lap. “She is full of surprises.” She lifts a brow. “I no longer regret my invitation.”
I offer Vivienne a knowing smile as Emery approaches us, her excitement contagious. “Well, that was an experience,” she says, taking a steadying breath. “I take it Will is pleased?”
“Ecstatic is more like it,” I say, grinning. “I believe he might even owe you a cut of his winnings.”
Emery waves me off. “The adrenaline is payment enough. I haven’t felt like this since…” She cringes. “It’s been a while.”
“Well done, Emery.” Vivienne offers her hand and Emery accepts. Vivienne’s touch lingers a second too long. “I must be leaving now, but I will be seeing you again very, very soon, ma chérie. And quite frankly,” she licks her lips, “I cannot wait.”
Emery frowns a smidge. “Have a good evening, Vivienne.” Viv wiggles her brows before she departs with a breathy chuckle, closing the door behind her and leaving us alone. “She’s a bit odd, isn’t she?”
“Mmm,” I hum, taking a step closer to Emery, walking her backward up against the edge of the pool table.
I stare down at her bright green eyes, the temptation to coax her lips open with mine far too enticing.
“Victory suits you well, darling.” I trace the outline of her jaw with my finger, and her breath hitches. “You’re practically glowing.”
“Yeah?” Emery breathes, her breasts rising against the tight hem of her dress. “Maybe I deserve a reward?” She swallows, gaze flitting down to my cock. “A little prize?”
I perk a brow. “Darling, we both know my prize isn’t little at all.”
Lust burns in her irises. “Show me,” she whispers. “I seem to have forgotten.”
Arching down, I feather my lips against the soft shell of her ear. “I don’t do prizes, darling.” Her breath hitches as I rock my hips against her core. “But I adore presents.” She swallows, meeting my scheming gaze as I pull away. “I think you will appreciate just how well I know you.”
“Sounds dirty,” she whispers, the intrigue in her tone unmistakable.
“Not dirty, darling,” I say. “Filthy.”