Sex Snob (16 page)

“Dutch.
Well, Dutch isn’t actually a different language.”
It absolutely
is
a different language, but I’m not about to pretend to know how to speak it, even in front of someone as clueless as Zach. “
They speak English there. Just with a Dutch accent.”

“Ha!”
Danielle took another swig of her beer and held her long brown hair up when one of the highlighted strands started to fall into her cup. “It is too another language,” she slurred. “En when did ya go ta Olland?”

“Don’t listen to her.
She doesn’t make sense when she drinks. And she drinks all the time,” I added with an accent that sounded like a cross between Hitler and Dracula.
Fuck, this conversation needs to end.
“Well, it was nice seeing you, Zach.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He was quite gorgeous. It
was
nice
seeing
him. Just so long as I didn’t have to talk to him. Or fuck him.

“Yeah, you too,” Zach said.
“We should go out sometime now that you’re back from Holland.”

“Yeah . . . well, I don’t really think my new Dutch boyfriend would like that,” I said, gesturing to Shane.

Shane’s eyes widened before he recovered. “Ya, I no share.”

“Oh . . . um . .
. okay then. Have a nice flight back.”

Shane couldn’t open his mouth fast enough once Zach was out of hearing range.
“You are
truly
one of a kind. And that's the second time I saved your ass, Bishop. Remember that when you kiss me after I win this game.

“Just shut up
. Are we gonna talk all night, or are we gonna play?”

Since it was our last game, we had the group’s attention again.
Shane sank one ball on the break, and then two more on his next two shots, before missing his next one. “Don’t let the pressure get to ya, Amanda. You get to kiss me either way.” He held his arms out wide in a way that said,
You know you want this.

He was
clearly enjoying our little competition, but I was going to enjoy it even more. I sank two balls with the ease of a professional. Shane chalked those shots up to luck. But when I had to shoot the next one left-handed and the ball dropped into the side pocket near him, a wave of panic swept across his face. “Don’t let the pressure get to ya, Shane.” I was having way too much fun. “You get to kiss me either way.”

“Damn,” Steph said.
“You go, girl.”

I put some more chalk on the cue before lining up my next shot.
“Four ball, corner pocket. Then the seven in the side.”

“You don’t need to call anything that’s not the eight,” Shane said.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? Then I wouldn’t get to see the look on your face when I do
this
,” I said as the cue ball smacked into the four and spun a few feet backward, placing itself perfectly near the seven. I glanced up, after tapping the seven in, to see Shane’s bewildered expression. “Yeah, that’s the look I was talking about.”

“Holy shit!”
Kyle said. “I didn’t know you could play like that.”

Maybe there are still some things about me that can surprise him.
“Lily’s one of the only ones who knows.” I made my way around the table, sinking the last of the solids and lining up for the eight directly in front of Shane. “Excuse me,” I said politely.

“By all means,” he said gesturing widely with his arms.
“Please, finish me off.”

Interesting choice of words
. It would take more than an innuendo to get me flustered. I kept my eyes frozen on Shane.
Two can play at that game
. "I'd be happy to." I knew from the crack of the cue ball hitting the eight that I had made it. I didn’t even have to look.

***

“So how’d you get so good at pool?” Shane asked as he opened the door to his black Mustang.

“So you admit that I’m good then?
Hold on, let me get my phone. Can you say it again? I need to record it.” I couldn’t hide my smile.

He walked around to the driver’s side door and slid in beside me.
“Don’t rub it in. But yeah, you’re good. Obviously.”

“My grandpop taught me to play as a kid.
He had a table in his basement. My mom worked second shift, so my grandparents would watch me when she was at work. He always had his buddies over for games. Those guys were like my second family. The look on a grown man’s face when a twelve year old girl hustles him is something you should see at least once before you die,” I laughed.

“Worse than mine?”

“Yeah, definitely worse than yours.
Although I did enjoy watching you when you realized you were being hustled.”

“That’s
funny,” he said as he took his eyes off the road to look over at me, “because I enjoyed watching
you
when I realized you were hustling me.” Even in the darkness, his blue eyes seemed to glow, causing a warmth to radiate up my legs and deep into my chest.

I broke our gaze and shifted my eyes out the window.
“Yeah, it definitely made for some interesting nights at the bars during college. I always had spending money, that’s for sure.”

“Not to mention the added bonus of it being unbelievably hot.”

“Yeah,” I laughed, “I guess I never thought of that before.”

“
So,” he hesitated, “you said your mom worked at night. Where was your dad? I mean . . . if you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s fine.”
I usually didn’t talk about him to anyone other than people who were close to me. But, for some reason, I felt like I could open up to Shane. “I never had a
dad
. Biological father is probably more accurate. My mom was young when she got pregnant with me. Both my parents were. My mom’s parents offered to help her, but she was always the independent, stubborn type.” I couldn’t believe how easily I could share this information with Shane. And I couldn’t believe how easily he listened to it.

“Independent, stubborn type, huh?
Guess the apple doesn’t fall far, does it?” he said with a gentle laugh.

“Yeah.
” Though I had never considered how alike my mother and I were until Shane, of all people, had pointed it out. I had always seen us as so different from one another. I was close to thirty, with a college degree and a high-paying job. No husband on the horizon and certainly no kids. But as much as I hated to admit that Shane was right about anything, he
was
. My mom and I never wanted someone to do something for us that we could do for ourselves. “She got herself into that situation, and she wanted to be the one to make it better,” I continued. “She was scared if she lived with my grandparents, she might never leave. So she got a small apartment and dropped out of college to get a full-time job to support me. My father said he would help her, but he never lived up to his promise. He didn’t give her any money. He never saw me. At least not that I remember. My grandfather was more of a dad than my own father
ever
was.”

“Are you and your grandfather still close?”

“He died three years ago, but yeah, we were always close.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.
My grandfather and I were close, too. He’s the one who got me interested in sports. Long story short, he’s the inspiration for this perfectly built man sitting beside you.”

“I guess he never taught you how to be humble,”
I said sarcastically. I think we were both starting to feel that the mood needed to be lightened.

“Yeah, I must’ve missed that lesson.”

Shane pulled into my apartment complex, and shut off the car.

“What are you doing?
” I asked.

“Walking you.
I don’t like the looks of that shady guy standing over there.” He motioned to Mr. Harrison, my seventy-seven-year-old neighbor, who was out with his beagle.

I smiled and rolled my eyes as I opened the car door.
Shane ushered me to the main entrance, placing a hand on the small of my back as we strolled past the “shady” old man. “Well, thanks for walking me,” I said as I took out my keys to open the main door to the building.

“Sure, anytime.
I’m a gentleman if nothing else.” He turned to go, but was clearly hesitating, and I knew why. “Speaking of . . . a gentleman always pays bets,” he said, facing me again, and closing the short distance between us. “About that kiss.”

A surge of desire funneled its way through my body. “Not here,” I said throwing my head in the direction of Mr. Harrison.

“This isn’t exactly my idea of
public
.”

“Yeah, well this isn’t exactly my idea of
private
. And I
am
the winner. My terms. Come inside?”

I unlocked the door, and we climbed the single flight of stairs to my apartment in silence.
I was conscious of the fact that Shane followed directly behind me, his bright eyes most likely focusing on my ass as I walked up the stairs. In those four seconds, a million thoughts rushed through my head.
Is Lily home? Probably not. Was I just going to invite Shane in for a kiss and then tell him to leave? God, what am I thinking?

But as I unlocked my apartment door, none of that mattered.
I just wanted Shane’s mouth pressed against mine. I craved his strong hands around my neck and lower back as he pulled me into him. My mind filled with images of my hands grabbing at his rough blond hair in the darkness.

I motioned for Shane to go inside and closed the door behind me.
“Lil,” I called out. There was no response.

“Guess this is as private as it gets,” Shane whispered, as he stepped toward me.
His blue stare locked on mine, and I felt him touch me before he actually did. I felt the energy that bounced between us, and as he leaned into me, my body pulled him in like a magnet. My back pressed against the door as Shane cradled my chin gently, his cool breath finding my mouth before his lips did. I closed my eyes and tried to anticipate what this might feel like. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so anxious to kiss someone. I was back in middle school again, waiting to get to first base.

When Shane’s lips finally did greet mine, the feeling was even better than I’d imagined.
They were softer and warmer than I’d ever felt, and when he parted my own lips with his tongue, I was lost in the delicious sensation, in the taste of beer and mint on his hot mouth. The stubble on his face scratched softly across my sensitive skin, only making the experience that much more stimulating. I expected him to pull away completely after a few moments, but instead, he backed off only slightly, hovering his mouth over mine, unsure of whether to go further. His fingers brushed my hair from my face, and a warmth radiated between my legs at his touch.

My breathing was already ragged, my pulse pounding in my ear since his first mention of making good on his bet.
I slid my hands up his stomach and chest, relishing the feel of his muscular frame. My hands moved to the back of his head, pulling him closer, inviting him to be more aggressive. He continued his soft, teasing licks on the inside of my mouth, exploring me slowly, and I swept my tongue across his top lip. He responded as I’d hoped, gently nibbling at my bottom lip.
God, is he a good kisser.

We continued like this, until a hesitant kiss between friends turned into something more passionate.
With experienced precision, his tongue collided with mine. And when he pressed me up against the door, I could feel his erection on my lower stomach. I sensed him trying to control himself as he struggled not to roll his hips against mine.

But, God, I wanted him to.
The kiss wasn’t enough. For either of us. We needed the friction that the other’s body would provide. My hands massaged up and down Shane’s back in rough, frantic movements, and he moaned into my mouth in response. He slid my shirt up just enough to tickle my skin with his fingertips. When I didn’t shy away, he worked his way up my stomach slowly, deliberately teasing on his journey to my hardened nipples.

With swift dexterity, he shifted my bra just enough to gain access to my breasts, which were heavy and full at the anticipation of his touch.
I could feel the moisture between my thighs increase with every pull at my nipple, and as his tongue danced delicately down the front of my throat, I reached into the back of his jeans to grab his ass above his boxers. I needed him to rub against me, and he obeyed my silent request, his hips grinding in circles.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered against my ear.

God, no.
I didn’t want to tell him to stop. Instead, I moaned into his neck through damp, sore lips and lifted my leg to wrap around him, finally tending to the dull ache that pulsed between my thighs. I could feel the increasing need for release building inside me with every roll and thrust.

My physical need was competing with my willpower.
I knew I shouldn’t do this. This wouldn’t just be sex between friends. It would be something more. And I didn’t want to know what that
something more
was. But with every stroke of his erection against me, it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist this.