Free The Promise of Surrender by Liliana Hart Page B

another idea came to mind. He kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot and brought the beer over to one of the little round tables, pouring them each a glass.
    “Did you order dinner?” he asked.
    “Not yet.” She took a sip of beer and licked her lips, and he swore he felt her tongue straight down his dick. “I figured we could eat after I beat you a couple of times.”
    He arched a brow and grinned. “Now you’re talking my language. What do you say we make it interesting.”
    “Irish boy,” she said with a smile. “Everything’s a bet.”
    “Life’s a bet. So?” he asked. “You in?”
    “What are the rules?”
    “Winner takes two out of three games. Straight pool.” He answered.
    “And what do I get when I win?” she asked, arching a brow.
    He laughed and felt the adrenaline surge through him. “Winner gets to be on top. And the loser has to do whatever the winner demands.”
    “Ahh, so laundry and doing the dishes. Sounds like a deal to me.”
    “Be careful, Mia. I haven’t forgotten how to spank you.”
    “Mmm,” she said. “You’d have to win to try it.”
    “Challenge accepted. Rack ’em.”
    Mia set her cue against the wall and went to the opposite end of the table, leaning over and pressing the balls tight in the triangular rack. Then she lifted it carefully. He could see right down the vee of her shirt to the soft mounds of her breasts and the lacy white bra that barely covered them. His cock had been hard from the second he’d imagined her stretched across that pool table, and he hoped he could concentrate enough to put his money where his mouth was. She was a temptress, and he wanted to be tempted.
    As soon as the cue stick was in his hand, his competitive streak took hold. This wasn’t a game he wanted to lose. He broke and the clack of balls hitting was like music to his ears. They’d spent a lot of time in pool halls over the years, watching drug deals go down or just becoming known in the community.
    By the end of the second game, he was starting to worry that he might be doing laundry and dishes after all. He’d won the first game. Barely. And she’d taken the second game that had been equally as close as the first.
    “You want to quit?” she asked.
    “Are you forfeiting? Because if you forfeit that means I win.” He waggled his eyebrows and said, “And I’ve been seeing my handprints on your ass in my head ever since I mentioned it.”
    “You’re a sadistic bastard, McBride.”
    “You never used to complain, baby.”
    “Your break. Unless you want to forfeit. I’ve got a pretty amazing fantasy going through my head too. I’ll let you wear my apron while you’re doing the dishes.”
    “I’m just adding a tally of strokes that are going to show red on that sweet ass of yours. Keep talking, sweetheart. My hand is itching.”
    The corner of her mouth curled up in a smile and he recognized the look in her eyes. It was the look she had just before he usually found himself flat on his back with her hot mouth around his cock.
    The game went quickly. He ran the table and then just missed getting the eight ball in the side pocket. He was sweating bullets as Mia had her own run of luck. She lined up her final shot, and he held his breath as she pulled back the cue stick. And then he watched in disbelief as her cue shifted just slightly out of alignment as she made the shot. The eight ball went in the corner pocket. But the cue ball didn’t stop like it should have. It spun back and went in the side pocket on the opposite side of the table.
    Zeke’s eyes met hers as she looked up at him over her cue stick.
    “Looks like I missed,” she said.
    “Looks like you did.”
    He didn’t remember how he got to the other side of the table where she was standing so quickly. He only knew she was there and his mouth was on hers—hot and wet—devouring. He couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop.
    His tongue caressed hers and he shuddered as her fingers curled around his