Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) (49 page)

I turned to survey the room. Speaking of fun and games, if I was going to be spending more time with his family, I’d better get a firmer grasp on some of these pastimes. Brad would take great pleasure in mocking me for my inadequacies. I needed to practice. Where to start? I saw the pool table and smiled, remembering Daniel leaning over the table in his parents’ basement. I’d drooled as I’d gotten my first glimpse of his bare forearms, admiring his broad shoulders and tight ass as he’d hitched his leg up to expertly execute the shot.

Two and a half months.

That’s how much time had passed since that playful but very revealing exchange. It hardly seemed possible that it was so long ago. On the other hand, considering what had felt like a
lifetime
of waiting in the interim, it seemed like far more than nine weeks had passed. And now there we were—a couple—in every sense.

I crossed decisively to the rack on the wall and grabbed a pool cue. I chalked the tip and then took two of the scattered balls and lined them up at one of the corners of the table. This was a completely contrived shot, but I had to start somewhere. I leaned over and made a little bridge with my hand the way Daniel had taught me back in February. I brought the cue back and slid it forward, hoping to connect with the white ball and possibly sink the red striped ball waiting in front of the pocket.

Ha! Not only did I
not
sink the striped ball, I didn’t even
hit
the white ball. Instead, I jabbed the end of the cue into the green fabric, leaving a blue, chalky smudge on the felt.

“Fucking piece of shit,” I muttered.

“Aubrey, what are you doing?”

I whirled around, my hand on my heart. Daniel was standing against in the doorframe, watching me. His gray track pants hung low on his hips.

“Daniel! Crap, you scared me.”

“Well, frankly, you’re scaring me, too. What are you doing to the poor, defenseless table?”

“I was trying to get that stripy ball to go in the hole,” I explained, pointing to the corner of the table.

“Ah, I see.” He crossed the room and stopped in front of me. “This is very upsetting,” he said, taking the cue out of my hand.

“I know. I’m sorry. The chalk will come out, right?”

I rubbed at the smudge, but he pulled me back.

“Don’t worry about the table. That’s not what I meant. I was actually talking about my teaching abilities. I thought I’d done a better job of instructing you, but that
was
a while ago. Perhaps you need a refresher.”

Oh,
now
I saw where he was going with this. There was something in his eyes—that easy confidence. This was the Daniel that feared nothing and no one. God, how I’d missed him. I rested my hands on his bare chest.

“Don’t blame yourself. As you say, that
was
a while ago. From what I remember, your instructions were outstanding. A refresher would be a good idea, though. You know, to
clarify
a few points.”

He smiled at me—a slow, lazy smile, eyes hooded and playful. He placed the pool cue on the table and then reached around my waist, slowly slipping lower.

“Where are your panties, Miss Price?”

I made a big show of pulling up the hem of the T-shirt, feigning shock when I saw that I was naked underneath.

“I swear I was wearing panties a few minutes ago. It might have been that look you just gave me. I don’t think they stood a chance.” I snapped my fingers. “Poof!”

“I really
do
have quite an effect on you, don’t I?”

“I suppose you do.”

“Suppose? Can’t you be more definitive than that?”

I took his hand and drew it between my legs.

“Definitive enough for you?”

“I’ll say,” he said, running his fingers along my wet skin. “You know the feeling’s mutual, right?” he said, his lips close to mine as he moved his hand around to my lower back.

“Yes, I do think I feel something mutual, right about…
there
.” I shifted my hips against his. He closed his eyes and moaned, his hand tightening at my waist.

“Last time I tried to teach you to play pool, we were rudely interrupted.”

“I was very disappointed. The lesson was reaching a high point, if I recall.”

“Would you be terribly disappointed if I put off this lesson in favor of—other pursuits? I gave you time off for good behavior earlier, but there’s this very pressing
job
that needs to be attended to before we leave today.”

His voice made me tingle down to the very tips of my toes. I quickly shed the T-shirt, throwing it on the corner of the table. As he looked me up and down, the saucy dimple came out to play. Sexy motherfucker.

“What if this job doesn’t get done?” I ran my fingers under the waistband of his track pants and licked my lips.

“I’m afraid it would reflect badly on your performance appraisal, and that would be a shame. Things have been going so well.”

He tilted his head and ran his fingers lightly up my sides, bringing them to rest at the swell of my breasts. It was all I could do to remain standing, never mind continue the suggestive banter, which was obviously one of Daniel’s favorite forms of foreplay.

“You know, I have this overwhelming desire to please people, Mr. Grant. Would you be good enough to drop your pants so I can get to work?”

He smiled wickedly. “There’s that initiative I so admire, Miss Price.”

And then his pants were off and tossed aside. I patted the bank of the pool table and raised an eyebrow. Daniel scooted onto the edge. I pushed his shoulders, and he reclined, watching me as he moved. His words from the night before rang in my ears: “
I guarantee if you want to see me lose my shit, talk to me.”

I gazed up at him from under my lashes.

Okay. Here goes nothing.

“I hope I haven’t misunderstood. This is what you want, right?” I asked, running my hands up his thighs. “You want my lips right here?” I lowered my face slowly. “And my tongue here?” The tip of my tongue darted out, flicking him gently.

His hips jumped, and his hands moved to my hair. He moaned, dropping his head back and closing his eyes. I devoted myself entirely to pleasing him, and he said my name over and over as he encouraged my movements. I glanced up, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, the muscle in his jaw jumping.

His reactions spurred me on. I was enjoying the experience almost as much as he was. After several particularly deep thrusts into my mouth, his fingers tightened, scratching my scalp as he hissed.

“Oh, fuck, stop, stop,” he panted, sitting up and drawing me close to kiss him. “You’re so fucking hot.”

In one quick movement, he was off the table and behind me, leaning me across the felt.

“Tell me you want me to make love to you,” he said, urgently sliding his hand between my legs. “I want to hear you say it.”

I shook my head.

“No?”

“No. That’s not what I want.” I moved frantically against his teasing fingers.

He hesitated. “You don’t?”

I looked at him over my shoulder. “You’ve got me bent over a pool table.
Make love?
I don’t think so.”

“Jesus.” He kissed my neck and then bit down on my shoulder. I moaned. “So, what you really want is for me to fuck you so hard the neighbors will hear you when you come?”

“Your neighbors are a quarter of a mile away…”

“Exactly.”

He ran his other hand down my leg, circling my knee. His hot breath made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “When I was giving you that billiards lesson in February, remember what I said about access?”

“Uh-huh.”

He eased my leg up, resting my knee on the edge of the pool table, and then he was inside me in one swift, hard thrust.

We both cried out at the same time.

“That is called
perfect
access,” he said through gritted teeth. Daniel’s hands were firm on my hips as he sank into me, slowly and deeply, again and again. His chest pressed into my back.

Sweet Jesus…

“How about angle?” he breathed. “Do you remember what I said about that?”

I could do little more than sigh and moan. My fingers dug into the table, possibly making permanent divots in the fabric.

“You need to find the perfect—angle—to execute the shot.”

Oh, he was working the angle. No doubt about that.

“Find that sweet spot every time, and the game…is…yours.”

I nodded and moaned, pushing back and clawing the felt under my fingers.

My legs trembled. In fact, my whole body was quivering. I’d lost control of my limbs, and if it wasn’t for the table, I’m sure I would’ve fallen over. Daniel reached between my legs, holding me against him, and the trembles became full-on spasms. My cries echoed around the room.

After a few minutes of potential unconsciousness, my cheek pressed against the table as I struggled to regain my breathing, I realized Daniel was draped over me, one arm circling my waist, the other stretched out along my forearm.

“You okay?” he asked, kissing my cheek softly.

“Are you kidding me? I’m great. That was…Wow.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m fine.”

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

“Really?” I’d been so wrapped up in my full-body orgasm that I don’t think I would’ve known whether Daniel had come even if he’d used a bullhorn to announce it. I eased myself up and turned to face him.

“Hold on tight,” he whispered. He lowered me on the table and pressed into me, haphazardly pushing billiard balls out of the way. Thumbs pressed into my hipbones, he moved slowly at first.

“Stretch your arms out,” he said. “Like you did last night.”

I looked into his eyes as I moved, feeling a billiard ball beside my right hand. Without breaking his gaze, I grasped it and rolled it around in my fingers. I brought one of my legs up to rest on his shoulder, trying to ease the overextended arch of my back.

He turned his head, brushing against my knee. “Oh God. I love your legs, Aubrey.”

His tongue slid along the flesh above my knee.
Where was my camera when I needed it?

“You look incredible, Daniel. Don’t hold back.”

And that was all I needed to say. All pretense of control vanished as he desperately chased release. He gripped my leg, his teeth sinking into my thigh and his other hand moving up to palm my breast as his hips drove against me. He swore and gasped, eventually collapsing onto me.

“You’re amazing,” he groaned, his chest heaving. A minute passed, maybe two. Finally, he lifted his head. Glancing up at my hand, he chuckled softly. “Do you know you’re still holding the eight ball?”

I turned to peer up at the black ball in my right hand.

“Sink that ball at the end of the game, and you win. But you have to call it first,” he explained. “Say which pocket you’re aiming for.”

“That one over there,” I said, turning to face the corner of the table.

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” he said, gently resting his lips against my cheek.

I angled my hand and rolled the ball toward the corner, where it dropped easily into the mesh bag below.

“For the win!” I grinned up at him.

I’d thrown Daniel’s T-shirt back on and made a quick trip to the washroom to clean up, only to return to find him lying completely naked in the middle of the pool table, his hands clasped behind his head. I leaned over and ran my hand down his chest to the tight muscles of his abdomen.

“Comfortable?”

“Oddly enough, yes.”

He patted the space beside him, and I climbed up to join him, burrowing into his side.

“Daniel, that was incredible.”