Then she looked up at him and gave a breathy laugh. “I'm doing pretty good, aren't I?"
"Uh ... yeah.” Then she took careful aim and shot. The ball rolled and nicked the edge of the one at which she'd aimed, but it was ever so slightly off, and the ball rolled toward the pocket and stopped.
Her eyes met his and she shrugged, smiling. “Oh well. Your turn."
He proceeded to clear the table, taking his time, making sure no careless slips caused him to give up his turn. If Blondie got one more turn, he might not get another chance, the way things were going.
She stood there, smiling, watching him, and as he straightened up from an awesome curve shot, he looked at her. She grinned, and her eyes gleamed with admiration. “You're good,” she said. He smiled back at her. Their eyes locked, and once again his heart lurched to a stop. The air in the bar seemed suddenly heavy and warm, and as his heart picked up a rapid rhythm, he felt himself break into a sweat.
"Think you can sink that...?” she murmured, nodding at the impossible shot, flipping her hair.
He sucked in a breath, tore his gaze away from her, and assessed the shot. He walked around the table. Yeah. He could do it. He pictured it in his mind, the perfect angle, the spin he'd need. Too bad his damn hands were shaking.
As he walked around, she didn't move out of his way, and their bodies brushed together. Heat shot straight to his groin. He even went lightheaded. Jesus.
He shook his head and took a moment to steady his nerves and his hands. Why was she having this effect on him? It was only a pool game. He'd played games with big money riding and never felt this kind of pressure.
He forced himself not to look at her, just took the shot. The ball rolled fast with left-handed English, hit another ball, and he knew it was bad. The ball hit the one he needed to sink and rolled in to the side rail.
Shit.
He raised his dismayed gaze to hers as she laughed sympathetically. “Nice try."
He shook his head, but he wasn't really mad. Not when he got to watch her bend over the table, her lacy blue thong peeking over the top of her jeans, her cute little ass temptingly thrust out. Oh man. He groaned.
She took her shot, another challenging one, and this time she sunk it. Laughing and tossing her hair, she lined up for the next one. Her little pink tongue came out and touched her upper lip while she concentrated. Then she glanced up at him, and her face kind of changed as she lost her concentration. He was sure she could see his arousal and appreciation, and her fingers slipped a little on the shaft of her cue.
"Damn,” she said as her shot went a hair wide.
It was his turn now. And it wasn't even hard. Well, the shot wasn't hard, but he was. “Eight ball in the corner pocket,” he said smugly. With an effortless flick of his wrist, he sunk the ball and grinned.
"Good game,” Zach said with genuine approval. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun playing pool.
She smiled back at him, not too disturbed by losing.
"I think you're better than you let on.” He stood right in front of her, so close they were almost touching, so close he could see the glints of gold in her eyes. They reminded him of the effervescent bubbles in a good, clear amber ale. “That wasn't your ‘A’ game, was it?"
She blinked and her lips curved enticingly; she hitched one shoulder. “Maybe not."
He laughed with delight. “Come on, I'll buy you a beer,” he offered, taking her cue and replacing it on the wall.
She hesitated and glanced around, as if looking for her friend. Placing his hand lightly on the small of her back, Zach directed her back to their barstools. He put a hand out and held hers while she climbed up. Her hand felt small and delicate in his larger one, and as she rose onto the stool, her scent surrounded him—a fresh, fruity scent that smelled ... delicious. Like strawberries and watermelon.
He was painfully aware of her now, sitting beside him. She was his dream girl come to life—gorgeous, blonde, and she liked beer and played pool. Wow. Zach silently thanked Connor for standing him up.
"So Blondie, another of the same?"
She lifted a brow. “Blondie?"
"I don't know your name,” he admitted apologetically. “I'm Zach."
"Ashlyn.” She slid her little hand into his, and he held it again as he looked at her appealing face. She met his gaze and awareness sizzled between them.
Just then the bartender arrived, and Zach ordered two more of the same.
"So did you learn to play pool from your three brothers?” Zach asked.
Ashlyn smiled. “Yeah. I had to keep up with them. How about you? You've obviously played a lot."
He grinned. “In high school, my brother and I spent more time at the pool hall than in classes, much to my mother's dismay.” He shrugged. “Now it's good for stress relief."
She nodded. “I guess there's a lot of stress that comes with running your own business."
They sipped cold beer and talked. Ashlyn fascinated Zach. She was so sweet and pretty and sexy. She told him she was a student at UC Rocky Harbor, taking some kind of computer classes, so she was obviously smart, too. As she grew more comfortable, she smiled and met his eyes more often. And every time she did, it was like a live current jolted through him. She even put her hand on his forearm when they laughed.
He grew harder and hornier as they talked, too, aroused not just by her looks but by her rapt interest in everything he said. The attention was seriously stimulating.
An intense aching settled low inside Zach, a craving for her building up in him, red hot, burning. He started to think Ashlyn might feel the same, as her knee brushed his and she touched his arm. Then when their eyes met, they held each other's gazes, and her tongue came out and touched her pretty upper lip.
God. A hot jolt of desire stabbed through him.
The seductive invitation in her eyes drew him in, surrounding him in a hot haze of sexual desire. Two hours later they were still sitting there, talking and laughing. Zach's fingers were entwined with Ashlyn's, resting on the bar. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, watched her pupils dilate. He couldn't stand any more of this extended foreplay. He was so hard and full it hurt.
"How about we leave here and go back to my place for a drink?” he suggested. “I've got some of that amber ale..."
She looked at him, and he could see from the sparkle in her eye that she wanted to come home with him.
"Your place?” she asked.
"Shit.” He hesitated. “I forgot. We can't go to my place. My kitchen is being renovated, so I've been staying with my brother. We definitely can't go there."
"Oh.” Ashlyn still gazed at him. Heat smoldered in her eyes, and her teeth sank into her lush lower lip. He waited for her to offer her own place. “Well, I guess we could go to my place.” She licked her lips again.
"Great,” he said with relief. He leaned closer and brushed a kiss across her lips. “You are so sweet,” he whispered. Then he gave a hoarse laugh. “I can't believe this."
"What?” Her eyes were huge in her small face.
"Meeting you like this. You're my dream girl.” He reached out and toyed with a strand of her hair, rubbing the golden silk between his fingers.
Ashlyn blushed, smiled and shook her head.
"Seriously,” he insisted. He pulled his wallet out and tossed some bills onto the bar to cover both their tabs. She was still leaning towards him, so he kissed her again. This time his mouth lingered on hers, his tongue sliding softly along her bottom lip. She opened for him invitingly, and he slanted his mouth across hers. His tongue licked inside her mouth as he cupped his hand on her cheek.