11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Clara

I wasn't as lousy at pool as I'd expected, given how long it had been since I'd played. If I thought about when I'd cut myself off from a game that had once been a favorite, the timing aligned with Miller entering my life.

Just another piece I'd whittled away to fit perfectly beside him.

Jake wandered behind me as I lined up my shot, and I glared at him over my shoulder, finding his eyes pinned to my ass. I should have told him off for ogling me, but his indecent perusal made me feel sexy and desired. Besides, there was no harm in looking, was there?

Except…with him standing behind me, I couldn't concentrate.

"Go stand over there and wait your turn."

His chuckle was deep, scuttling across my skin. "I'm just watching your game. Pretty sure I've been played."

He stopped on the opposite side of the table, leaning on his stick. Devastating.

This version of Jake, comfortable in his home and skin, was otherworldly. His hair was unstyled, softly flopping over his forehead instead of slicked away from his face. The cotton of his shirt hugged his chest and skimmed his flat abdomen and narrow waist. And his worn jeans were slung low enough when he tucked a hand in his pocket, a slash of bare, golden skin emerged, and the deep grooves at his hips rippled when he moved.

Before tonight, I'd been incredibly attracted to Jake. Now that he was off-limits, it was as if his attractiveness had grown exponentially.

But I'd made so damn many smart decisions with Miller, and everything had still gone wrong. I could give myself tonight. I needed some kid-free fun, and Jake was offering that without any strings. All I had to do was lean into it and let go.

One night of fun.

Smirking at him, I bent over the table, my chest nearly skimming the felt, and lined up my shot. Muscle memory was saving me. My arms and hands remembered how to do this, where to stand, how hard to hit the cue. I wasn't playing a perfect game, but Jake had been waiting a while for his turn.

"Boom," I whispered, sinking a ball in the corner pocket.

"Yep. You're a sly little shark." He looked me up and down with obvious interest, his teeth digging into his plump bottom lip. "Never would have thought Miss Clara Rossi would take me for a ride playing pool."

Spinning around, I grabbed my wine and raised the glass toward him before taking a long sip. With the drinks I'd had with dinner, I'd already resigned myself to ordering a rideshare, and since Marina was in charge of Nellie for the night, I didn't have to be home anytime soon, so I decided to indulge a little more.

It seemed I did a lot of that in Jake's presence.

"I'm no shark." I wound my way around the table, looking for my next shot. He didn't move when I had to pass him, so my ass brushed against him and one of his hands gave my hip a squeeze. "I didn't think I'd be any good at this anymore."

"I have a feeling you're good at anything you put your mind to."

"Maybe." I lined up another shot. It went wide, the balls bouncing off the side. "Damn."

Jake took over. Competent and confident, he sank shot after shot. Without gloating, he prowled around the table, looking for the best angle, and I leaned against the nearest wall, taking in the show.

My panties were stuck to my wet skin. Sipping my wine, I pressed my thighs tightly together to help ease some of the ache low in my belly, but I wasn't sure that was the answer.

When he sank the eight ball, Jake strode over to me, stopping so close our toes touched.

"Congratulations," I said softly. "I'd demand a rematch, but I think you have the advantage since you live with the pool table."

His huff grazed my lips. "The pool table is in no way loyal to me. I got through that game quickly to relieve your boredom."

"My boredom?"

"Yeah." He rested his forearm on the wall beside my head but didn't allow any of himself to touch me. Not even a little bit. "You looked bored over here. Maybe pool isn't doing it for you. What about a round of darts, Clara? Would that do it?"

I tipped my chin, meeting his dark eyes. "Maybe. We'll have to play to find out."

My head fell back with a groan. "I've never been this terrible at anything."

Jake chuckled from behind me. "I'm surprised at just how bad at darts you are. I think we've found the one thing you can't conquer."

That raised my tipsy hackles. "I can conquer darts. It's just a dumb game. Give me time, and this dartboard is mine."

"I knew you'd be competitive." He reached around me, stopping me from tossing my dart. "Let me help. We'll work on aim."

I nodded. "I think aim might be the most important part of this game."

"Think you're right."

He was behind me now, his chest pressed against my shoulders. The room had become almost unbearably warm. My free hand twitched with the urge to unbutton my blouse to cool off. But one button wouldn't do, not with Jake so close.

"Here." He circled his other arm around me to splay his hand on my stomach, pressing below my belly button. "Hips and shoulders back. Look where you want the dart to go. Focus on that and nothing else around it."

His hand around mine, we flung the dart toward the board. It didn't strike the bull's-eye, but at least it hit—a huge improvement over my last try.

"Yes!" I bounced on my toes in celebration. "I did it!"

Jake hissed and pressed harder on my stomach, which brought his groin to the top of my ass. There was no mistaking the thick ridge pressing into me. Without thinking about the consequences, I bounced on my toes again.

"Fuck, mama," he barked. "Watch yourself."

I leaned my head back on his shoulder to look at him. "You can wrap yourself around me, do that growly talk in my ear, touch me how you want, but I can't even move?"

He inhaled sharply. "Are you saying I'm turning you on?"

"What do you think?"

His eyes slammed closed, and he released a shuddering breath. "This is why I don't make promises."

His fingers went to the snap of my jeans, pausing there. This was the moment to tell him no and go home. Nothing had happened. It would have been so easy to walk out of here.

No—not easy, possible.

Instead, I arched into his fingers, and he took that as my consent. Unbuttoning my jeans, he slipped his big hand inside, completely bypassing the band of my panties, and cupped between my thighs with a sigh.

"Molten," he whispered harshly. Shoving my panties to the side, he parted my lower lips and let his fingers glide between my folds. "Yeah, Clara, you're turned on."

His lips closed over the side of my neck, and I melted against him. Sliding his free hand up my torso, he molded his fingers around my breast, kneading firmly.

I'd missed his command of my body. His confident touches and heady kisses. I'd missed being held by him, my skin stroked, being the sole object of his attention.

He removed his hand from my jeans and spun me to face him in one smooth motion. There was no time to protest the absence of his touch before his mouth was on mine, his tongue parting my lips to plunge inside.

I gripped his shoulders and kissed him back. God, had I missed this . Before Jake, no one had ever kissed the hell out of me. Taking my breath, giving me his. The scratch of his facial hair rough on my lips and chin, abrading my tender skin with each deep skid of his tongue along mine. He'd mark me for days. I'd have to wear makeup over the raw skin he'd leave behind. But in secret, I'd wipe the makeup away and look at the red to remind me.

My head was swirling. I barely noticed when my feet left the ground. Jake carried me back to the pool table, resting my butt on the edge. My thighs immediately parted for him, and he stepped between them like he was taking his rightful place.

Gripping my hips, he pulled me to the edge, aligning the thick ridge of his erection with my seam. Through my jeans and his, our bodies reached for each other. He cupped my neck as he ravaged my mouth. There was no other word for it. He was rough with me in the way he'd come to know I liked because he'd shown me. His teeth nipped at me, tugging my delicate skin, then he replaced them with his tongue, lapping at the stings of pain before plunging into my mouth to steal my breath.

I grappled with his shirt then his warm skin, digging my nails in to find anchor, urging him closer and closer even though there was nowhere to go.

"Jake," I moaned against his kiss.

His hold on my neck flexed. "If you say my name like that again, I'm going to have to eat your needy little pussy. There's nothing for it."

Oh, I like the sound of that. I want that. Yes.

His lips latched on to my racing pulse as he rolled my nipple through my shirt.

" Jake . Please." I moaned again, pleading for something to relieve this ache.

Jake wasted no time. Taking the waistband of my jeans in both hands, he yanked, and I helped by lifting my ass. With barely any effort, he had them off me, along with my panties.

Before I could remember why this wasn't a good idea, he dropped to his knees and spread my legs wide. We both went utterly still as he stared at me in the bright lights of his game room. My lungs seized. My fingers dug into the expensive custom felt covering the table.

"Gorgeous woman," he murmured, moving to kiss the soft skin of my inner thigh. His lips trailed to my apex, and he inhaled deeply, his eyelids fluttering as he took in my scent. Without any more delay, he buried his face in my pussy, sucking my drenched flesh. Biting my outer lips until the pressure was so great I had no choice but to scream at the ceiling.

"Yeah, sweetness," he urged. "Give me that voice."

I'd never been a screamer. I used to think women only did that in porn, acting out men's fantasies. But that was all it had been—acting. Not something that happened in real life, and most definitely not my life. In fact, before Jake, my experiences in bed had been largely silent.

The first time he'd made me scream, I'd covered my face with a pillow to stifle it, and he'd stopped immediately to throw the pillow to the floor.

"Never hide your reaction from me, sweetness," he'd growled.

He'd meant it, and I'd wondered how I'd ever been silent in bed. Jake made me moan and cry, pant and scream. Now, he had me pleading. Begging for him to give me the release burning bright in my belly.

Fingers tangled in his hair, I lifted my hips to ride his tongue. I felt him smiling against me, but he never stopped licking me, sucking me, biting me. Then he slid a finger along my center and beyond, wedging between my ass cheeks to find my opening. My belly tightened at the feeling of him rubbing my own wetness there.

When he pressed a finger inside me, my hips flew off the table, and the sound I made when he pushed in farther was inhuman. He flattened his palm on my belly, forcing my hips back to the table. I fought him, but he kept me there with firm pressure, fucking my pussy with his tongue and invading my ass with a second finger.

It was too much and not enough. I needed more to get over that final hurdle. Reaching down my sweat-misted torso, I needed to rub my clit. If I could touch it, roll it a few times, I would have what I needed.

As soon as my hand started past Jake's, he knocked it away.

"Mine." His voice was muffled from how deep he had his face in me, but the message was clear.

"I need to come," I whined. "I can't take it anymore. Let me? Please?"

"Mmm." His rumble sent shivers down my spine, but it wasn't an answer.

I got that when he pulled his fingers from my body, took me by the hips, and flipped me to my front. Then his mouth was on me again, wildly lashing from my ass to pussy. If my nails were longer, I would have shredded the pool table to ribbons. There was nowhere for me to hold, and I desperately needed to. Otherwise, I would fall…or float.

His fingers drove into my ass and curled at the same time his lips wrapped around my needy, swollen clit.

"Too much," I cried, lying through my teeth. It wasn't too much, but it was more than I'd ever had. "Please, Jake. Please ."

He sucked and thrust, sucked and thrust, and I felt him everywhere. Like he was kissing me, licking my nipples, and nibbling my toes all at once.

That wasn't what sent me over, though. No, the guttural groan of pleasure that rumbled through him was the final shove. My eyes opened wide, and the rest of my body tensed as I burst apart, regathered, and burst again. He stayed with me through it, holding my thighs, nuzzling me with his lips and nose between them.

When I was boneless and satisfied, he pulled me with him to an armchair and placed me in his lap. He was still hard as a rock but made no move to seek his own gratification.

"Jake," I sighed.

"Mmm." He rubbed up and down my arm, his nose in my hair. "Like when you say my name like that too."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

I moved my leg over his erection. "This."

"I didn't do that to get anything from you, Clara. That's not what it was about."

Opening my eyes, I met his soft gaze. He meant it. He'd let this moment go with just me getting off, and he'd be happy about it.

"I know you didn't." Wiggling out of his hold, I took my turn dropping to my knees. "But there's no way we're leaving this room until I get to have my way with you."

Kneeling before him, he'd gone heavy-lidded, his knuckles grazing my cheek, his mouth tipped in a half grin.

"Do what you need to do, mama."

Keeping my eyes locked with his, I lowered his zipper to free his beautiful, smooth cock and wrapped my fingers around it. He shuddered, and I gave him a leisurely pump.

"I need to make you cry my name the same way I did yours."

"Mmm." He rocked his hips. "Have at it."

Dropping my head to his lap, I closed my lips over his wide head. That was all it took to elicit a moan from him. With my mouth full, I smiled.

I'd have him forgetting every name but mine before we left this room.

This was the game room, after all, and I had every intention of coming out victorious.