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“You just gonna stand there and watch, or are you going to help me out here?” My eyelids fluttered.

Leaning his stick against the table and grabbing a couple of bar napkins, he slowly made his way toward me. Without letting his eyes fall this time, his gaze buried itself into mine as he took the napkins and dabbed them against my chin.

Keeping me steady with one hand on my hip, he trailed the napkins between my breasts, never touching them with his bare hand.

His eye contact never faltered when he tossed the wet napkins to the side and buttoned up my flannel, making my cleavage completely disappear.

Silence surrounded us when he stepped away from me and took his next shot without a moment of hesitation. With no surprise, the ball went in, and this infuriatingly competitive man didn’t appear shaken whatsoever.

Clearing my throat, I tried with every ounce of willpower to forget what it felt like to have his hand run between my tits—napkin in between us or not.

“C’mon, Andi. That all ya got? One ball left, and I’d love to see how you try to stop me this time.”

Honestly, I was screwed, and I think we both knew it.

“I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve. Just don’t know how…” I looked around the bar, spotting each drunk local paying no mind to me and Hunter in our own little bubble, “appropriate they would be in public.”

“Do your worst,” he challenged me.

This was going to take some liquid courage.

Finishing off my beer, I eyed Hunter’s sitting off to the side. Swiping it from the ledge, I chugged his, too.

“Oh, she’s getting serious?” His eyebrows perked up.

Untying my black boots, I slipped them off one at a time. “Dead serious.” And with absolutely no shame, I brought my ass to the wood, scooting my way onto the pool table without touching a single ball.

Not that there were many on there anymore.

Kneeling with my legs spread over the eight-ball, and my back turned toward every local in this hole-in-the-wall place, I challenged Hunter, secretly hoping he’d make it anyway. “Call your pocket, Hotshot.”

Before he could choke the words out, he swallowed hard enough it looked like I’d finally found a way to crawl under his skin.

Lowering his body, his caramel gaze focused on the little black ball, doing his damn best to avoid looking just a few inches up at the center of my legs.

“Corner pocket,” he grunted, before pointing at the pocket with his stick.

“Careful, Hunter. You don’t want to mess up.” I slowly ran my dark green fingernails up the tops of my thighs. “You know what’s on the line here.”

“You’re right, Andi, I do.” And instead of looking at his target, his gaze was fixed on my lips when he took his shot.

I didn’t have to turn around to know that he’d won the bet.

Offering me a hand, I reluctantly accepted it when he helped me off the pool table. But instead of helping me to the ground, he set me on the edge and took me by surprise when he grabbed one of my boots, slipping it onto my foot, and lacing it in complete silence.

Once I finished tying Andi’s boots, she sat on the edge of the pool table, frozen like a deer in headlights. What she didn’t know was that I never had the intention to kiss her here in this musty dive bar. But something about watching her squirm filled me with an intoxicating type of thrill.

With one hand placed firmly on her hip, I let the other find the back of her neck. Just when I didn’t think she could appear anymore nervous, her shoulders tightened.

“You look scared, Andi.” I brushed my thumb along her jaw.

“Maybe I am.” Her voice was so low I almost didn’t catch it over the hard rock music blaring in the background.

“You don’t have any reason to be scared around me. It’s just a kiss.” I tried to soothe her when I ran my other thumb along her hip bone.

“What if I told you I haven’t kissed anyone in as long as I can remember?”

It was my turn to freeze now.