Authors: Mia Grandy
One Shot Bargain
One Shot Bargain
A Romance
New Adult
Novella
Mia Grandy
Contents
Randa watched him stalk around the pool table, the cue rolling in his hand as he studied the lineup for the next shot. Two hours ago when she’d first walked into the pool hall with her duffel bag and twenty dollars to her name, she had been determined to make enough money to buy a week at the motel down the street. Now, she was up to almost three hundred dollars and for a moment she was able to breathe a small sigh of relief. If she could just take down this mark she could have a little time to organize her things and get back on her feet.
Until tonight, everything had been going great for Randa, she’d had a job that she enjoyed and a small apartment that she shared with one of her
co-workers. However, when Grace’s ex-boyfriend, Cole, had gotten out of the military and found his way back to her life, Randa found that her space was increasingly cut whenever she butted heads with Cole. Yesterday he tried to climb into bed with her, which had resulted in her pulling the knife she kept tucked into her mattress and threatening him with it. When she’d gone to Grace, things had just deteriorated rapidly.
Tonight at her shift at the bar, she learned that she had been let go because Grace accused her of stealing from the till. When she’d gotten home, she’d found a duffel bag with some of her belongings at the front door and a note telling her that unless she was going to call the cops and get them involved, these were all the possessions she could have from the apartment.
Grace knew that Randa couldn’t afford to get the police involved, knew about her sketchy past with the foster care system and the law. So, she had taken the last of her tip money to catch a cab to the local pool hall to see if she could earn enough money to get back on her feet again.
The latest mark’s name was Drake. He had short cut blond hair and dark eyes, tan skin, muscles that moved and flexed every time he rounded the table. And the kicker was that when he thought he was about to pull one over on her, he smiled with half his mouth. While they played she had to keep reminding herself not to visibly ogle him. The last three rounds of pool he had continued to lose, and the pocket had just grown deeper. Now they were in it for the whole thing, more than four hundred dollars, and he was down by five balls.
All she had to do was sink the eight ball on her next move and she was home free with enough money to stay in slightly nicer living arrangements than the fleabag hotel she was sure was crawling with bed bugs and roaches. The thought of having to live in squalor again was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes. She’d spent the last year pulling herself up out of the gutter, and she didn’t intend to let one jerk bring her down.
“Ten ball corner pocket,” he called, before successfully sinking the shot. Rounding the table he lowered the cue again and took aim at another shot. “Bank the fifteen ball, right corner pocket.” This time he missed the shot.
Randa looked down at the table as she stood up from the chair and realized that he may have purposefully messed up that shot in order to keep her from having a clear line at the eight ball. As it was, she was going to have to bank it twice to try and get it to go into the corner pocket.
“Thanks for leaving me a shot,” she joked, smiling as she rounded the table. “Bank the shot off the
far side and then once against the back bumper as well. Eight ball in the corner pocket.”
She slid the cue between her fingers, relishing the feel of the wood as it moved effortlessly against her chalked skin. Playing pool had been the one thing that had helped keep her off the streets when she was younger. A friend had introduced her to hustling when she was just barely fifteen, and she had taken to it like a fish in water.
Not only that, but she loved the control that she felt when she had that pool cue in her hand. For a short period of time she was not being tossed about by random luck, but rather she was able to maneuver the table according to skill. Sure there was a small amount of luck involved, but mostly on that green rectangle she could own her destiny. And that was something.
As Randa measured up the shot, she glanced back and caught Drake looking at her bottom. Smiling
and tilting her head to the table, she lifted her rear up that much more, pushing it out until it was straining against her shorts. After all, she had to make sure that she used all of her assets, besides she liked the way he looked.
She took a deep breath to try and shake off the sexual excitement that was now crawling over her flesh in waves as she imagined his palms caressing her rear and spreading up over her back. A moment later she opened her eyes pulled back her cue and struck the shot, but not before taking one final glance back. She met his smoldering gaze straight on, and she felt the pulse race through her veins.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her attention back to the ball. But at the last possible second her hand shook just a little when she heard him shift at the back of the room. The moment that the cue struck the ball she knew that the shot would not go through and she inwardly cussed herself.
Biting down on the inside of her cheek so hard that she drew blood, Randa silently prayed that she hadn’t blown it so bad that she scratched the shot. After all, if the cue ball went into the pocket, the game was over. Her money would be gone and she would be sleeping on the street tonight.
A whoosh of breath left her as the cue ball and the eight ball found themselves wedged against the bumper. She might have missed the shot, but at least she hadn’t blown the whole game; especially not since he still had four more balls and the eight ball to take care of.
“Hmm, looks like you blew that one,” he said, laughing a little under his breath as he walked around the table.
She felt the flush of indignation rising up in her cheeks. “Yeah, well I can’t always be perfect.”
The corner of his lip twitched a little before curling up into a half-smile. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
Turning his attention back to the table, he walked around it three times. Each time he would lean over at different points and survey the balls, and each time he did it she felt her insides twist just a little tighter. These were not the actions of the kind of half-assed player she had been playing all night. Worry began to creep in around the edges and gnaw at her confidence.
If I had just taken him down a moment ago, this wouldn’t be happening.
Her interior voice kept scolding her, shaming the wanton desire that was still curled deep in her abdomen. It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, and she couldn’t keep the dangerously delicious images from crawling through her thoughts.
Finally, he turned back to her to call the shot. “Bank the fifteen ball into the eleven. The eleven will go into the right corner pocket, the fifteen into the left.”
Randa looked down at the table and almost snorted with a short outburst of laughter. That was before she noticed his face. His chiseled features had taken on a decidedly more dangerous air, and his eyes were cool and appraising. She gulped down a large breath of air and nodded her head to let him know that she had heard him call the shot and understood.
Then, he leaned over the table, stretching out like a lion waiting to pounce on his prey. When he pulled back and struck the cue ball, she knew by the sound that he had hit his mark. Anytime a ball is hit off and the cue slides off the surface or doesn’t come into contact the way that it is supposed to it makes a different sound, but when
a shot has been executed properly, the shot always rings out with a clarity that Randa could feel in her bones.
As she watched, the cue ball struck the fifteen on the edge just enough to give it the spin it needed to curve into the eleven ball; each of them sank into their prospective pockets as the cue ball banked off the far ledge and came to rest in the center of the table.
He smiled at her, and her blood chilled even further. “Nine ball into the side pocket,” he called, and then easily made his shot as it was a straightforward shot.
However, Randa let out a deep sigh of relief, and she could feel the tension in her joints start to ebb away as the cue ball came to rest just an inch from the eight ball up against the rear bumper. Although he had made the shot earlier, it was going to be a lot more difficult this time as the
eight ball sat directly between the thirteen and the cue ball.
Since he could not use the eight ball in any fashion until he was ready to take his final shot he had very limited options. She smiled at him when he looked up. “I think you may have shot yourself into a corner.”
He was looking down at the table, but when his eyes moved up and caught her own, she had to stifle the gasp that almost tore from her body. His gaze was so intense that it immediately snaked through her and made her quiver, and images of him taking her right then and there on the pool table flashed through her mind’s eye.
“You do?”
She forced herself to take a deep breath before responding to try and calm herself. “The only way I see out of this is to jump the eight ball. You can’t risk banking it off the far corner and having the thirteen accidentally knock the eight ball on its way in. But, if you were to jump it you would not have the room you need to hit the thirteen well enough to get it to travel down the table and into the opposite corner.”
“Hmm, but what if I were to bank the shot and have the thirteen branch off and go into the side pocket?” he asked, a smile starting to form.
“You could do that, but it is so close to the eight that it would be nearly impossible to squeeze that cue ball through the gap. Better to just throw the shot and let me have my turn,” she told him, leaning against the pool table and letting her hair slide down over her shoulders. Charm was something that had won her more money than skill, and she was not above using everything at her disposal tonight if she wanted to avoid sleeping in the alley.
Drake laughed, and the hardness of his gaze softened. “I tell you what. Since you are so certain this shot can’t be made, I’ll bet you double or nothing that I can sink it.”
Randa started to laugh with him, but choked it off when she realized what he was saying. Double the money was enough for her to really get back on her feet. There was, however, one catch. “Eight hundred dollars is awfully tempting,” she started, “but I’m afraid that I don’t have double the money to pony up on my end.”
He raked his gaze up and down her body when she spoke. It was so intense that she shivered and took a step back.
“You don’t have to lay money on the line.” He smiled.
She thought about what he was suggesting. It wasn’t the first time she’d been tempted by
someone’s offer to pimp out her body so that she could stay off the streets. Although most of the time it was from old men she would never touch, but this time was different. In fact, if he had never even mentioned it, she might have bedded him anyway. The coils of heat and tension in her groin even now were starting to make her tingle as she caught his gaze.
The problem was, now that it had been spoken and the offer had been made she knew that she would never be able to take him up on the offer. No matter what, she couldn’t sell herself out.
“I’m sorry if I said or did something to give you any other impression, but…I am not a whore.”
He let out a sharp bark of laughter that caught Randa off guard. “You think I would want to take sex in trade?” he asked.
“What else would I have to give? I have nothing but the clothes I’m carrying in my pack and a snack baggie full of crackers,” she said, motioning over to the duffel bag that she had stored underneath the table on the back wall. As soon as she said it, she dropped her hand and shoved it into her pockets, staring at the ground. She’d never before told someone about her desperate situation, and she had no idea why she had decided to start now. Maybe it was because she had thought he was propositioning her like she was some common prostitute. For a moment, she felt the tears threatening to spill over at the thought of her situation, but she blinked them back. When she looked up again she saw him staring at her and the pity in his face was almost overwhelming.
“I didn’t mean…” he started but then stopped, clearing his throat. “What I’m looking for is a partner, but not one in bed.”
She slowly shook her head back and forth as she looked at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.”
He smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching as they curled upward. For the first time all night that smile didn’t immediately invoke a sense of passion, but rather she was so irritated that she felt her hands clenching into tight fists in her pocket.
“Yeah, well, I apparently haven’t been making myself clear. Sorry about that.” He shuffled a little bit and walked toward her. Randa tensed herself for some kind of confrontation, but instead he stopped about a foot in front of her and looked down at her, his face earnest. “In two days I have to be at a week-long tournament at the casino down by the Texas border. Originally I had paid the registration for a partnered game. However, due to circumstances beyond my control, my partner has backed out.”
Randa felt her head tilt slightly to the side as she listened to him and tried to decide if what he was claiming was on the up and up. “So, what would you need from me?”
“If I make this shot I would want you to come to the tournament as my partner.”