Page 20 of Monster's Delight

“Break,” he said, lining up his shot.

I heard the crack of the cue hitting the other balls, but I didn’t bother looking up from the perfect view of his ass bent over in dark jeans until he stood up.

“Is it my turn now?” I asked.

“No, I sunk two balls, so it’s still my turn.” He grinned at me, and I started to see the flaw in my plan.

He bent over again, and seamlessly knocked another ball into a side pocket.

I was going to have to do something drastic if I wanted to have a turn. I released the charm holding my hem down and lifted one foot up onto a nearby chair, fiddling with my shoelaces. It was drafty, but I could feel his eyes on the exposed skin of my thigh like a brand. When I straightened, he didn’t even pretend to have been looking somewhere else.

“I’m thinking a Blowjob,” I said, leaning in close to him.

“What?” he croaked.

I held up a folded bill. “The shot? I’m thirsty.”

“Right. That.” He seemed flustered, which was hopefully enough to throw off his game.

It was, or he wanted to give me a chance.

“Do you trust me to get your drink?” he asked.

“That’s sweet, but I know a charm to tell me if my drink has been drugged.” When he looked startled, I continued with, “And a hundred different ways to cause harm if it was.”

“Noted.” He tucked a loose wave behind my ear. “I’m glad you can take care of yourself.” He nodded at the billiards table. “Take your first shot, and then I’ll get you that drink.”

I studied the white ball, trying to figure out the best angle. It was directly in the center, and I was suddenly suspicious of his alleged loss the turn before. I made the executive decision to just do my best, as I’d probably get his name at the end no matter what, and leaned across the table to take my shot.

I sank a ball, surprising myself, and I spun excitedly to see what he thought of my lucky shot, only to catch him looking up from my ass.

That was when I remembered that I had removed the charm keeping my hem down.

Oh well. If he’s serious about giving me study time, he might get to see a lot more than that.

“What’s the first letter of your name?” I asked, walking my fingers up the buttons of his shirt.

“A.” He caught my hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm. “Hang onto that for me, won’t you? I’ll be right back with your drink. Blowjob, right?”

“Can I change that to a Sex on the Beach?”

“Rounding third base and heading for home already?” He grinned. “Sounds good to me. I’ll be right back.”

Somehow, he returned within half a song, both my drink and a pair of shots in his hands.

“I brought my favorite, a Fireball, for both of us,” he said, handing me the shot.

I sniffed it. “It smells like cinnamon hearts!”

“It’s a Canadian whisky. You should test it for drugs.” His expression was serious. “Don’t get out of the habit.”

A tiny charm later, we toasted each other and downed the shots.

“Ooohh,” I exclaimed, feeling the burn down my throat. The whisky was smooth, making my taste buds tingle. “I see why you like it.”

“You remind me of it,” he said, putting the glass down on a table to the side. “With your red hair and spirit full of fire.”

“Does that mean I’m your favorite?” I teased.

---