"I get the winner."
Her jaw dropped, but his rose in a grin. He winked. "We'll
see about that."
Ooh, playful banter? My soul sang with his implied challenge.
He was an excellent choice of prey. I batted my eyelashes and
leaned forward to allow him a generous peek down my top while
I studied the shot he was lining up. His line of sight traveled
from the cue ball, across the green felt to the flesh I exposed.
I inhaled an exaggerated sigh, thrusting my breasts all but
out of my top.
Take the bait, pretty boy.
He took a long look, then allowed his gaze to roam my body
and face. The blonde, who still stood feet away, reached a boil.
"Chase Rogers! Quit looking at that bitch!"
He threw her a silencing glare, and then looked back to me,
a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. "So..."
He sidestepped his pool cue, and leaned close enough for the
warmth of his cheek to penetrate mine. "Do you have a name,
or will 'bitch' do?"
"Call me Mercy." I closed the distance between us,
brushing my lips against his cheek and my breast against his
arm.
