Going Hard: Boys of Fall (5 page)

The bartender came down to their section of the mile-long bar. She set another Raspberry Kiss down in front of Rafe and gave Hollie a quick wink. “That’s enough, Darcy,” she said to the Amazon. “You just don’t like that someone dished back your sass.” The bartender was stunning and had a no-nonsense air about her.

“Starla, have her thrown out!” Darcy cried as she touched her rapidly swelling lower lip.

Personally, Hollie didn’t like her even more now that she’d caught her name. Extensions Girl was better. She’d stick with that.

Starla rolled her eyes and poured a clear drink in a tall glass and slid it over to Extensions. “Have a drink on the house.”

Rafe peeled off a fifty and tossed it on the bar. “Have a few drinks on us.” He nodded to Starla and dragged Hollie away from the bar.

“Why do we have to leave?”

“We’re not leaving. Just going to another room for you to cool off there, Hollie Solo.” He tightened his grip around her midriff and hauled her off her feet and into the crowd of dancers.

“Rafe, put me down.”

He set her down in the middle of the dance floor as the song changed from an Eric Church song to Justin Timberlake’s “Can’t Drink You Away”. The crowd swelled as people rushed in to dance.

Rafe tried to move them off the dance floor, but she hooked her arm around his back and gripped his shirt as she stood on her toes to get to his ear. “You brought us out here.”

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t renege. She was shocked, but didn’t question it. Especially when he slid a hand down her back and around to her hip. Instead of making room between them, as she’d assumed he would, he widened his stance and walked her back a few steps.

Their feet lined up, as did their legs, as he led them through a few bastardized steps of some dance she didn’t understand. But she followed his lead. She couldn’t stop herself.

His strong thighs melded to hers and his hips snapped to the beat in a Latin rhythm that made her mouth water. She’d never seen this side of Rafe, but the song was made for his particular style of machismo and gliding tempo. As the song ended, he dipped her back a little bit, his chest crowding hers, his lips aligned with her mouth.

When the song changed again, he hauled her back up and clasped her hand, dragging her off the dance floor into the sectioned-off room at the back of the bar.

Her chest heaved and her skin buzzed in reaction to his moves, his touch, his nearness. What the hell was wrong with her?

And she really didn’t appreciate getting hauled all over the damn bar. She tugged on his hand, but he simply kept pulling. He stopped at the end of the bar and handed back a bottle of water to her a few minutes later.

Because she was sweating her butt off, she accepted the water and guzzled it down. A few droplets dribbled down her chin into the neck of her shirt. It felt amazing. It was hot as hell in the dance area.

And she’d just Latin danced with a stupidly hot guy.

Okay, so it was with Rafe, but she didn’t really want to focus on that right now. Way too confusing.

Instead, she pushed through the crowd of people and made her way to the pool tables in back.

Now this she understood.

She threw a sway into her step as she approached a pair of college guys. She dug out a ten from the front of her jeans and laid it on the foot rail. “Next game.”

“Sure you can handle it, darlin’?”

She inclined her head. “I’ll give it a shot.”

The taller one held his hand out. “Bobby.”

“Hollie.”

He pointed to his friend with a thumb. “Todd.”

Of course it was. She took a pool cue off the wall and leaned on it. “You guys from around here?”

Todd shook his head. “Going to college a town over.”

A little young for her, but she could try her hand at being a cougar. Or maybe a baby puma.

“And you’re out on a school night?”

“Well, you are.”

“I’m not in school anymore.” She chalked her stick and blew off the excess.

Todd looked to Bobby then back to her. “You’re of age, right?”

She sighed and walked to the head of the table. “Definitely. Though I should probably ask you that question, college boy.”

“We’re seniors.”

“Well, at least you can drink. But can you play?”

Todd rolled the balls to the end of the table and racked them. “Guess we’ll find out.”

She caught Rafe in her eye line. He was sipping a beer, his face expressionless. She wasn’t quite sure why he’d want to come with her to a bar. She definitely didn’t need a chaperone. Though, to be honest, he didn’t really hover that much.

Well, except for the bar.

Maybe this would be all right after all.

She dug a quarter out of her pocket. She took one of the beers on the rail. “May I?”

Todd nodded. “Want us to get you a beer?”

After a brief mental debate—small town or not, these were strangers and could carry date-rape drugs like anyone else—she nodded. “A hard cider?”

Bobby nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

“That’d be real nice.”

Bobby disappeared into the fray. She flipped the quarter through her fingers. She’d had plenty of practice doing that while she was sitting at the circulation desk in the morning. Nothing more boring than sitting there waiting for no one to show up.

She’d rather be shelving books.

“Heads or tails?”

Todd swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed along his long thin neck. His shoulders were nice enough, but he really was a string bean. At least compared to Rafe.

And why was she comparing this kid to Rafe?

That wasn’t fair in the least. She shook her head and drained the beer with a wince. Budweiser was definitely not her favorite. She flipped the quarter up in front of Todd. He surprised her by snatching it out of the sky.

She laughed. “Nice.”

He slapped his hand on the rail. “Tails.” He removed his hand. “Aw, look at that. Heads.”

“Guess that’s for me then.” She made a little bit of an exaggerated wiggle as she lined up her shot. She’d thought about playing the clueless female, but she didn’t want to play that kind of game.

Right now, she just wanted to win and have some fun.

She drew her elbow back and released. The stick hit the cue ball with an extra dose of spin and the balls scattered, two dropping into pockets. Both of them stripes.

“Damn,” Todd muttered.

She grinned up at him. “Small-town girl. All we do is play pool.”

Bobby came back with two beers and a recognizable red and black label for her.

She took a second shot and sank another stripe, then took her Original Sin cider from Bobby with a smile of thanks. The cap was firmly in place. Nice.

It sucked having to be so careful, but in this day and age, it was more than necessary.

She sneaked a glance at Rafe and found his gaze was steady on hers. Not that he would’ve let the guys do anything to her drink. She might doubt some things about Rafe, but his eagle-eyed ability to watch out for her wasn’t one of them.

Right now that felt kind of good.

After prying the top off with the opener Todd offered from his keyring, she took a healthy sip and set it on the rail, then tapped her stick on the side pocket to call her shot.

She scratched, but she meant to. No need to trounce the college boys before she had a little fun with them.

Though in the end, she did end up running the table. Twice.

In fact, she ended up giving them lessons on their follow-through. The fact that they couldn’t handle a pool stick probably meant their personal follow-through wasn’t much better. Then again, Rafe could play a mean game and his closer had been less than stellar, too.

Hmm.

Rafe laid a twenty on the rail. “Care to make it interesting? You know, since you’re in teacher mode.” He cocked his head. “Let’s see if you can school me.”

H
ollie sighed
. Why did he have to come over and ruin everything?

“It’s okay, guys. You don’t have to say yes.”

“You know this dude?” Todd asked.

“Yes, this is Rafe.”

Bobby stood up straighter and sucked in his little beer gut. It was kind of adorable.

“I don’t think it’s really fair for us to play them, Rafe.”

“Who said us?” Rafe pulled a stick from the case. “I’ll take you as my partner.” He pointed at Bobby.

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“Don’t worry, pal.” Rafe slapped him on the arm and Bobby shifted over two steps. “I won’t hurt you. Just going to show you a few more tips that Hollie here doesn’t quite know.”

Todd looked from Hollie to Rafe. “Dude, we don’t want to get in between anything.”

Rafe lifted his beer to his lips. “Hollie and I are just friends, right, Hol?”

She frowned. Were they going to whip it out and start pissing rings around her? “Yes, we’re both from Quinn. Rafe is harmless.”

As a rattlesnake, she added mentally.

She wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him tonight.

She also didn’t want to study just how much she was enjoying it. Nope, that was how she’d ended up naked the last time. Lured in by the testosterone and sex appeal, then her orgasm had been dashed on the rocks like a lost boat without a lighthouse.

That got phallic.

Hmm.

Rafe dug out his own quarter and flipped it into the air then slapped it to the felt. “Heads or tails, boys?”

“Tails,” Todd stammered.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. If Wade and Colt had been there, the trifecta of intimidation would have been complete. Oh joy.

Rafe lifted his hand. “Tails. It’s your lucky day.” He locked his gaze with her. “Guess you get to break.”

That had way more meaning than this table.

In fact, she wondered just how intense he could get if he spread her out on said table.

And danger. There was danger all over that. Flag on the play!

She gestured to Todd. “You break this time.”

Todd went to the end of the table and racked the balls then broke. It wasn’t a bad break. Wasn’t a good one either, but at least it started them in the plus column. He’d sunk one stripe and one solid.

“Dealer’s choice,” Rafe said.

“Stripes.”

He leaned on the rail. “Then let’s go.”

God help her. She took the next and sank two balls. Unfortunately, Rafe’s presence was a distraction she wasn’t prepared for. And to be truthful, not used to. She’d had a crush on him for as long as she could remember, but she’d always made sure to stay out of his line of sight. They tended to argue as often as they had pleasant conversations. She’d long claimed she hated him, just to keep from fluttering around him like a complete girly fool.

Not that even her claims of hatred had bought her much distance.

She didn’t want to look like an idiot around him. First of all, her flirting skills were nonexistent. To her mind, if you wanted to have sex, well, why not say it? The whole coy dating game was simply beyond her.

Not to mention that he never seemed to notice her. He’d always been too busy with her brothers.

All that had changed when Wade had gone away to pursue his music.

After that, Rafe had spent more and more time working, more time with his family, and less time spending his weekends at the farm with her family. Those flashes of fun he’d let her see now and then had vanished completely.

Had he really changed so much in so little time?

The breadth of his shoulders and whip-lean hips certainly said so to her. Gone was any resemblance to the boy she’d known. He was harsher, more focused, more intense.

And Rafe Martinez had always been pretty damn intense. So serious all the time. Now the tiny laugh lines she remembered had been replaced with frown lines on his forehead.

What did it say that she wanted to smooth them away?

It said she needed to get laid. And while these two college guys were definitely not doing it for her, she didn’t want to picture Rafe in that role.

At all.

Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that?

Perhaps it was exhibit A on the pool table right now? Rafe with his long tanned fingers caging the pool stick for a smooth return. The smack of balls and two more solids sinking into the pocket made her groan.

He was about to run the table.

The concentration on his face was the first clue; the tension in his shoulders was the next. Bobby watched in awe as each angle was meticulously measured by Rafe’s keen eye and perfect form.

When he stretched across the table for a difficult shot, she let her gaze linger over the muscular length of his thigh and perfect ass. She’d been cozied up alongside that entire length of hard male perfection.

Her nipples tightened under the uncomfortable material of her bra. Stupid thing had shifted and twisted in the last game. She desperately wanted to tug it down, but there were far too many eyes on her.

She wiggled against the post beside the table. Rafe’s hair fell forward as he lined up the shot, but he must have noticed her gyrations. He frowned at her before scratching the next shot.

Thank God.

She took back the next two shots and prayed as Todd actually managed to sink the next one. Damn well better have, since she’d completely set him up.

The last shot of the table, however, was nearly impossible. “Thanks, Todd.”

College boy folded his arms. “These shots are crazy.”

She was short and needed to crawl across the damn table to take aim. She could use the extender stick, but memories of the guys taunting her about using it made her leave it in its rack under the table.

There was no way she was going to listen to that ridicule tonight.

She hopped onto the table to twist herself for the shot. Rafe came up to her and laid a hand on her hip. “Try something?”

She looked up at him. “What can you do that I can’t?”

His raven-black eyebrow arched under the adorable curl of hair hanging onto his forehead. She had the worst urge to push it back and feel the coarse silk sift between her fingers.

He lifted her off the table and led her around to the other side, where she could actually reach. “Try from behind.” He lifted her onto the table rail. “Reach around here.”

She dragged in a breath as his arm brushed along the side of her breast.

“Keep your stick straight.”

She peeked up through her eyelashes. “You keep your stick straight, pal.”

“Oh, it is.”

Her lips curved up at the corners. “Uh-huh.”

“Be serious here.”

“Do you have any other gear, Mr. Martinez?”

His nostrils flared as he helped her draw back and the balls smacked and spun. The last stripe dropped into the corner pocket.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he asked into her ear.

“Eau de bar.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I don’t mean that. And I distinctly smell pineapples, not bar.” He brushed his arm against her breast again. “That.”

“It’s this newfangled invention called the bra. It was first designed in 1890-ish.”

“Smartass.”

She laughed. “No. Not me.”

Bobby backed away.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Yeah, you two don’t need us here.”

She huffed as Todd lifted his beer in a faux toast and they both disappeared into the crowd. “We scared them away.” She punched Rafe in the arm. “You did.”

“I did not.”

“All macho teacher.”

“You’re just trying to change the subject.”

She dropped her stick on the table. “Cripes, Rafe. It’s a bra. Women wear them to make their tits perky and pretty.”

“That’s not a bra. I don’t know what it is.” He looked down at her chest. “They’re wrong.”

“I think I know my own boobs.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had my mouth and hands on them and I know they’re not that size.”

She flushed. He’d had them on her precisely once. And she didn’t remember him paying attention.

She pushed him back and hopped down. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to bring that up here?” she whispered furiously.

She was so not having this conversation. She made a beeline for the bathrooms, but he caught her hand and dragged her toward the lonely jukebox in the far corner.

“Rafe,” she said with a startled glare.

He hauled her into the darkened space. She was actually surprised there was one in this place. Everything seemed neon and bright, not to mention filled to the brim with people.

Though it was a weeknight and had to be heading toward eleven. And huh…sometime between game three and four, the pool area had cleared out.

He braced his arm against the wall beside her head and used the rest of his body to block her into the corner. “Why the fuck are you wearing a padded bra?”

Shock muted her for a moment before she managed to sputter out a laugh. “It’s none of your damn business.”

“Take it off.”

“What?”

“Take it off right now. Your tits are fucking perfect. You don’t need to be wearing that crap.”

“My…what?” Shock moved into exasperation.

He pulled at the tie of her shirt.

She slapped his hands. “Rafe!” she gasped.

“If you don’t take it off, I will.”

“Of all the high-handed macho stunts—”

She yelped mid-sentence as her shirt gaped open and cool air hit her.

“Are you kidding me?” She darted her gaze around the room, but no one was paying a bit of attention to them.

Which could be a good or bad thing if the situation wasn’t so laughable.

He tucked his finger into the small rosette between her breasts. “Fucking ugly.”

“Thanks.”

“Not you. This thing. What’s in it?” He molded his hand over her breast and she dragged in a breath. Her nipple went diamond hard. Damn sensitive things. It couldn’t be from Rafe touching her.

They’d been over this.

Actually, if memory served, the first time she’d really gotten revved with him had been very similar. Rafe had taken his time to taste her and pinch them deliciously just before he’d veered off to regions south—and things had fallen apart.

He brought both hands between her breasts and tugged hard and the bra snapped open, as did her freaking mouth.

“That was a forty-dollar bra, dammit!”

“I’ll buy you three others that suit these perfect breasts. It should enhance, not augment. Because these,” he cupped her gently, “do not need augmenting.”

She honestly didn’t know what to say to that. His chest was rising and falling as he looked down at her. “Rafe,” she whispered.

“Don’t fucking talk.” He pressed his forehead to the wall beside her neck. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

“I…” She swallowed.

She was perfect? Since when? All those years he’d never so much as glanced her way when she’d been dying for the smallest crumb from him…a wink, a smile, a teasing remark. All the things other guys gave out so easily that somehow made her feel nothing at all unless they were from Rafe.

Rafe, who never did any of them. But she knew, just knew, that if he did? She’d feel everything.

He swiped his thumb over one tip, then rolled it until she arched under him.

“Fuck,” he muttered—and lowered his mouth to her other breast and covered her nipple with his lips. He tugged and laved around the tight tip before dragging his teeth over her skin and finally right where she wanted him. Tugging at her nipple with a flash of bright white teeth in the dark.

Her fingers went right for his hair and held him there. Not that she had to worry about it, because he didn’t seem inclined to move. He tugged the other, rolling it between two fingers as he sucked strongly on the first.

Her entire body lit up like the jukebox next to them.

No way.

She rolled her hips against him as a restless hunger built in her lower belly. He slid his knee between her legs and she moaned when the seam of her jeans brushed her clit.

His hot breath fanned over her chest and along her ribs as he licked a path under her breast to the one he’d neglected and tasted that one, too. “Can you come from this?” he asked.

“I never have before.” Was that her voice? It was needy and dark, just like she felt.

His knee rose higher and he rocked against her, his cock hard against her belly.

“God.” She gripped his hair harder and felt the rumble of his growl against her skin. His sucking intensified and she rocked faster, rolling her hips just how she needed to when she was alone.

It felt weird to do it with this man. Weird and hot and wonderful all at the same time. He plucked at her nipple and she moaned his name.

Just as she was going to beg him to touch her, to rub something, the jukebox flared to life next to them and Garth Brooks twanged about friends in low places.

Coincidentally, since her low places were crying a bitter tune.

Rafe jerked away from her, his dark eyes bright with shock and heavy-lidded with lust. She’d never seen that look on him. He’d been so contained that night with her.

The night she’d never forget, even if in the end it had been disappointing. Probably because reality could never compete with the fantasies she’d had of him since she was a teenager.

Shoulders heaving, he stared at her. All she could see was his mouth, pink from going to town on her. He brushed his knuckles over her skin once and the lust shuttered away.

“Rafe?”

He swallowed. “We can’t do this.”

She sagged against the wall. “Who said?”

“I did.” He snapped the straps—which shouldn’t have been hot, but oh God, so was—and swiped the bra off and away before his nimble fingers buttoned her shirt as quickly as he’d undone it.

Of course, now the shirt fit—a little too well without the extra padding, actually. Her nipples were tight and pushed against the flimsy material. He tried to tie the bottom, but she pushed his hand away and did it herself.

There were a few scratches on her skin from his evening’s scruff, but otherwise she was back to normal. Regular Hollie Bennett in the flesh.

And he could resist her as usual.

Whatever momentary insanity had infiltrated his brain had slipped away just as quickly, and she was left as she always was—frustrated, unfulfilled, and just a tad violent.