Cue of Desire

Chapter 1: The Break Shot

The dim lights of the old pool hall cast a sultry glow over the worn green felt of the billiard table. I was nursing a beer, half-watching a game between some regulars, when a rogue ball leapt off the table and rolled toward me, stopping just a few feet away. *Pick it up, reset, don’t go down that road again,* I muttered to myself, shaking off ghosts of past recklessness.

I bent down to grab it, unaware that someone else had the same idea. My hand closed around the cool, smooth surface just as hers landed atop mine. Her skin was silk, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. I looked up, and damn, her low-cut blouse offered a generous view of perky cleavage, her long, lean legs begging for my touch. Our eyes locked, and I fumbled for words, managing only a lame, 'Oh, haha.' Real smooth, genius.

She slid her hand off mine, slow and deliberate, her fingers trailing over my skin like a tease. I flipped my palm up, offering her the ball with a smirk. 'Thanks,' she purred, her ruby lips parting just enough to reveal a mouth I wanted to explore in ways that’d make a saint blush.

'You know, if you hit the ball too low, it’ll jump like that,' I said, trying to steer us away from the charged silence and my growing hunger.

'Never played before. Care to show me?' Her voice was a challenge wrapped in velvet as she took the ball and stood, her hips swaying with intent.

Minutes later, I was pressed against her, my arms encircling her frame under the guise of teaching her how to hold a cue. Her ass kept brushing against me, deliberate or not, and I went from hard to raging in record time. 'Wider stance,' I growled, my hands gripping her waist, fingers grazing the bare skin of her stomach. 'Gotta be square to the shot.' Truth be told, I wasn’t some pool shark—half my advice was borrowed from little league baseball—but she didn’t call me out, and I didn’t care. The heat of her body was all I could think about.

'Like this?' she asked, her tone dripping with mock innocence as she leaned forward, her curves pressing harder against me.

'Exactly like that,' I shot back, my voice low, my hands sliding down her thigh. 'But you’re playing dirty, and I’m not talking about pool.'

She laughed, a throaty sound that made my cock twitch. 'Maybe I like dirty games. You gonna keep up, or just talk a big shot?'

We’d just downed tequila shots with her crew, and I spotted Louie approaching with a pitcher of beer. Things were about to get wild in this dead-end joint. I bought another round, and soon she was perched on the edge of the table, me standing between her legs. My hands started on the table’s edge, but they didn’t stay there. They roamed, inching up her thighs, her breath hitching as I neared the heat radiating from her core.

'Careful, hotshot,' she warned, her eyes glinting with fire. 'You’re playing with something you might not handle.'

'Oh, I can handle it,' I countered, my fingers brushing the lace of her panties, finding them already wet. Her scent hit me, intoxicating, and I was lost in a haze of lust I hadn’t felt in ages. 'Question is, can you keep up when I take you right here on this table?'

Her lips curled into a wicked smile, her chest rising and falling fast. 'Try me,' she dared, her voice a husky whisper, her body arching just enough to tell me she was as horny as I was. My fingers pressed harder, feeling her dripping heat through the thin fabric, and I knew I was seconds from tearing it off and diving into her pussy with everything I had—