CHAPTER NINE
Haden
After almost two games of pool, there isn’t a set of eyes in this place that aren’t on this little firecracker in front of me.
Including mine. She’s got the kind of attitude that makes me almost desperate to put her in her place, and I still don’t even know her real name.
She bends over now in front of me, lining up her last shot before the eight.
Her perfect ass is on display in a pair of light blue cutoff jean shorts.
The little frayed threads that hang from the hem graze her curvy tanned thighs, begging me to slide my hands under them, Her fucking incredible shoulders call for my lips and teeth every time she swipes her wavy blonde hair off her back.
“So what you’re telling me is, if I sink this little orange ball, and then knock the eight in, you’re paying for our drinks?
” she asks over her shoulder. She kicked my ass the first time even though I was going to let her win anyway.
There’s not a chance I’d let her pay for our drinks but, fuck, I did not expect her to be this good.
Now, I watch in annoyance as the cue slides between her slender fingers and she narrows her icy blue eyes in focus.
“How’s that shot looking, Trusty Dusty?” She winks at Dusty beside me. He’s made his way over for a beer and to watch this woman thoroughly kick my ass.
“Fucking Christ,” Dusty whispers from beside me as he watches her hips rock a little.
I cuff him in the chest with the back of my hand and turn my gaze to him, shaking my head once to let him know she’s off-limits.
She may not be going home with me, but she isn’t going home with anyone else in here either.
“Come on, Princess, we don’t have all night,” I tell her, watching her eyes narrow even further as she strikes the ball with perfect execution.
Dusty and I watch as it sinks into the corner pocket.
It’s dawned on me after watching her reaction to the only name I have for her that she doesn’t like being called “princess.” Which means I’ll be calling her that for the rest of the night.
“Looks like that pesky ball found its home,” she muses.
The feel of her shoulder grazing my chest and the sweet peach scent of her skin when she walks in front of me is distracting as fuck.
Though I’m pretty sure she did it on purpose as she makes her way to the other side of the table to take her last shot.
“Hell, I think I need another drink,” Dusty says, patting me on the shoulder.
I’m aware of the eyes on her. She’s a fucking knockout, and the way the whole bar is looking at her makes me want to peel my t-shirt off and pull it over her head.
It would hang down to her mid-thighs and cover up those gorgeous curves, which might suit me just fine.
She knocks the eight ball into the side pocket with ease and smiles wide. Christ almighty. It’s breathtaking.
“Ouch. Tough loss, Cowboy.” She straightens and stalks toward me, singing along with the Carrie Underwood song pumping through the sound system with a damn pretty voice.
Everything about this woman oozes sexiness and confidence, but I know there’s more to her than her facade and tough exterior.
There’s something deeper that calls to me.
Maybe it’s because I know a mask when I see one.
Hell, I wear one every fucking day. But whatever she’s covering up, I want to see what’s underneath.
She fusses with the hem of her billowy linen shirt, which strategically hangs on her in such a way that the tiniest hint of cleavage is visible.
She stands in front of me, her heart-shaped face relaxed after the sangria and her cheeks flushed.
A small, graceful hand comes up to pat me on my chest as she smiles.
“Looks like your plan backfired,” she quips. “That’s two out of three. Which means you’re the buyer.”
“Looks like you beat me fair and square and I’m a man of my word,” I tell her with a shrug.
“Wait, did you let me win?” she asks, popping her hands onto her hips and crinkling her nose in realization. She’s onto me.
“Why would I do that? I don’t even like you.”
“Good, because I don’t like you either,” she fires at me, lifting her glass off the side of the table and swallowing the last of it. “I’m starting to think this cocky cowboy thing must just be a ruse, like you wouldn’t live up to the hype anyway.”
The way her throat works to swallow takes a hold on me. Sassy little brat. I move closer to her and look down at her from my full height.
“You’re probably right,” I tell her. The urge to wind my hand in her hair and tilt her face up to mine so I can claim her mouth overwhelms me. Her pink tongue skates across her bottom lip and drives me even more wild.
“Well, there’s one last way to save the night and prove your worth.” She smirks up at me, beckoning.
“That so?” I ask her, my voice barely above a whisper. Her peachy scent fills my nose as she leans just a little closer.
“Dance with me.” It isn’t a question, it’s an order, and one that shocks me.
That was not what I was expecting her to ask.
But I don’t even have to think about it.
The idea of holding her in my arms again is too enticing.
Within seconds, her hand is in mine and she’s pulling me toward the packed dance floor as the opening strings to “My Eyes” by Blake Shelton start to play.
We make our way to the center of the floor and she wraps her arms around my neck with an easy grace, resting her soft forearms on my shoulders.
I reach up and grab one small hand, holding it in mine so we’re dancing properly, but I can’t help myself.
I grip her hip with the other and tug her close as we sway to the music.
When she falls flush with my body I hear her breath catch in her throat.
That sound, and the way her body molds with mine perfectly, sends tiny sparks up my spine.
Her fingers twist into the hair at the nape of my neck and I fight to keep my eyes open as my cock starts to swell.
With every roll of her hips my dick grows harder, pressing into her abdomen.
She doesn’t shy away from it. Instead, she presses herself even closer and breathes out a tiny whimper as she turns her lips up to mine.
“So, yeah, I’m clearly not your type.” She smirks, dropping her gaze to my hardened cock pressed between us.
“Clearly.”
Her lips are so close. The bar is so dark and the planes of her pretty face are just begging for my touch.
She hums the song against my chest as I let the pads of my thumbs trace the skin at the hem of her shirt.
“You know you have the attention of every single man in this place,” I observe, enjoying the feeling of her skin against my hands. “But you’ve got a secret just like I do.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” She asks tipping her face up to mine.
I lean in to whisper her secret in her ear. “You want me as much as I want you. The sooner you admit it, the better this night will get for the both of us.”
Her mouth pops open slightly. It’s the most straightforward thing I’ve said to her since I met her because, fuck, do I want her right now. More than I’ve wanted a woman in a really, really long time.
“Well, since we’re being honest, let me ask you this …
” She reaches up and pulls my hat from my head, dropping it right onto hers.
Her full lips curve into a smile, telling me she knows exactly what wearing my hat means, and something about that makes my dick harder than any other part of her. Because that smile? That’s all for me.
“What’s a girl gotta do to be your type just for the night?”
I drop my lips to hover over hers, pressing my fingers harder into her soft, warm skin.
Is this a bad idea? Maybe. But can I say no? Not a fucking chance.
A vision of those pretty eyes closing as I make her cry out in pleasure washes over me, and when she wets her lips in anticipation of mine, she makes my mind up for me.
“Well, that’s easy, Princess. All you have to do is ask.”
“Mmmm.” She moans a throaty little sound that drives me wild. “Then, kiss me, Cowboy—”
She doesn’t even get the words out before my lips are on hers, helpless, breathless.
This kiss isn’t soft or gentle. She meets me eagerly as I let my tongue sink between her lips and taste the sangria sweetness I knew was waiting for me.
She floods my senses, and the room around us, the music, it all fades until all I feel is her.
The deep-rooted hunger surprises me. It’s all-consuming, and the throaty sound she makes against my lips is so fucking hot I’m pretty sure it could burn the place down.
I lose my hands to her soft hair, weaving my fingers through her thick waves.
Her mouth parts more, letting me in fully as she molds her body further into mine and I ignite.
I’m lost in her, overwhelmed and desperate to bring her even closer.
My tongue searches her mouth as if kissing her could let me capture the sweetness she offers and save it for after she’s gone.
Heat spreads between us as I take ownership of her mouth.
We’re no longer dancing, only kissing, her body pliant beneath my hands, begging me to touch her more.
My heart thunders in my ears as though, in this moment, it beats just for her.
“Goddamn, Princess,” I take a second to catch my breath.
“Cassie,” she whispers into my lips. “My name is Cassie.”
“Cassie,” I repeat her name, liking the way it rolls off my tongue.
“Tell me something.” She’s just as breathless as me, and goddamn, that’s just the way I like her. “Does that pickup truck of yours have tinted windows, Cowboy?”