Page 52 of Overexposed

Whatever it was, it was damn attractive.

“You like to play with fire,” I said, keeping both hands on my pool cue. I still had half a glass of wine left. Between the food, the earlier margaritas, the wine, and the company—not to mention some very thorough kisses from Gem—I was more than a little turned on.

With a barely there caress, Ollie ran his nose from my cheek to my ear and then to my neck, where he pressed a whisper-soft kiss. My nipples went rock-hard as a shiver cascaded through me.

“So do you,” Ollie whispered. “Could be dangerous for you, Snow.”

Laughing softly, I turned slightly and tilted my head to see him better. “Don’t worry, Ollie. I won’t melt.”

“That,” he said in a silky tone, “sounds like a challenge.”

Playing a very dangerous game? Check.

Beyond caring if I win? Also check.

Except Gem…

That was a sobering thought. “Your break,” I reminded him.

“Winner’s choice,” he said, his breath teasing little whirls against my skin. “So you can do the break, Snow.”

Despite the air-conditioning in their very expensive home, I was definitely overheating. Licking my lips, I took a risk and bumped his hip with mine so I could change positions. His lowchuckle suggested I was in no way subtle nor did I avoid rubbing against him as I circled around.

The connection had every one of my nerves lit up and on fire. Touching my tongue to my teeth, I shook my head.Bad Stella.Stop fantasizing about what he looks like naked.

That was almost more challenging than I cared to admit because I’d seen him shirtless in more than a few roles. The cut of his washboard abs was so sharp, it definitely threatened to slice my panties right off.

That was if the fabric survived all the heat he put off no matter how soaked they were. One delicious thought slid right into another, and I reclaimed the wineglass for a drink. Alcohol wasn’t going to cool me off, but it gave me something else to think about.

Aware of his gaze on me, I took care to line up my shot. Flattening my back while my ass pushed back, I had one leg extended just slightly as I planted my foot. Focusing my attention on the cue ball, I pictured exactly what I wanted to happen.

I wanted a ball in the hole and his shirt off.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale—shoot. I snapped the cue ball forward with a smart snap. The break was fucking perfect. Two solid-colored balls, two separate corner pockets.

Straightening, I turned to meet Ollie’s smirk. “Two balls, Griffiths. Pay up.”

“I never argue with a woman who is good with balls.”

I rolled my eyes. “That was cheesy.”

“But you still liked it,” he teased. “Besides, cheese is excellent with wine.” He nudged off his shoes one after the other, then took off his socks.

I snorted as he gave me an impudent look. “You want more off me, Snow, you’re going to have to tap a lot of those balls.”

“Challenge accepted.” Wineglass in hand, I saluted him, then took a drink. Despite my early thought to slow down, I was almost finished. Facing the table again, I studied what shots were open to me. “Green in the side pocket,” I informed him as I circled the table.

One sharp tap and into the hole it went. Still half folded as though I were lining up my next shot, I lifted my gaze to Ollie.

He leaned his cue stick to the side and undid his belt, slid it off, then set it to the side.

“That’s just a belt,” I reminded him.

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