Page 27 of Second Swing
“Okay.” Her voice has a lightness to it which matches the smile gracing her face. “How can I say no to wiping the fucking floor with you?”
14
Lou:A round of balls is all these two know how to play.
Chuck:Now now, don’t be so hard on them.
Lou:And why not? They’ve been circling each other for months. When are these two gonna—
Chuck:Catch a birdie?
Lou: Actually, you old nut, I was going to say “gonna give us some action.”
“Come on, pretty boy, aren't you going to try just alittleharder?” Paloma sways her hips as she leans into the pool table and lines up the stick with the ball she has her eyes on. Pulling her elbow back, she knocks into the cue ball quickly and with ease. Hitting her target, the green ball, the solid six thumps against the side of the table before slowly rolling to a stop directly in front of the corner hole. “Scared of the pool shark?” she says, using her hand as a fin above her head.
“You’ve been lucky, but I’m going to come back as the reigning champ soon enough. You’re still better at shit talking than playing the game.”
“It’s a gift and a curse.” She raises one of her brows at me, I’ve missed her shit talking like crazy. “Plus, it looks like you owe me a pitcher of beer.” She brushes against me, swaying her hips before her ass rubsagainst my dick. Goddamn if this woman isn't a vixen wrapped in a tight little bow, one I want to unwrap with my teeth. I force myself not to bend her over this pool table.
Her magenta hair is curled and gives off this effortless, messy style; she’s beautiful. One side is tucked behind her ear, showing the definition of her soft jawline. When she stands up, her back is almost flush against my front, my feet rooted into the floor. Paloma turns her head, her lashes fluttering as she does, and when her tongue peeks out to slide across her bottom lip, I audibly groan.
I swallow the last remnant of my sanity and take a step back, her cherry scent following me. “Let me go grab that pitcher then, Dove.” I adjust my dick the moment I move away from my personal seductress and make my way to the bar. Ordering a pitcher of a local IPA, I think about what my cousin said about not distancing myself, and I’m glad I listened to her. It appears both Paloma and I have meddlers in our families. My shoulders shake as I laugh silently at the people in our lives. I’m certain her mom would marry us both off while we slept if she ever got the chance.
When I first told Sel about Paloma, she was upset and I understand why. I would be upset too if someone had broken her heart, but when I told her my thoughts on my own actions, her anger lessened. I should have never put Paloma in the position I did. She was barely twenty-two and warned me about falling in love with her, and like a fool, I slipped easily off the edge of everything she is. I don't think she realizes how amazing she is.
Without much thought, my eyes find her vibing to the music playing as she chalks the pool stick in her hand. I haven’t had much time to enjoy the new records I picked up, but watching her now, I can’t help but picture Paloma dancing in the living room. Those pants somewherein the corner as she sways her perfect, wide hips to a soulful R&B vinyl on the record player.Fuck me.I nearly groan out loud. I shouldn’t be picturing her in my home, dancing, but fuck, do I want it to be reality.
“Clint?” a voice calls from behind the counter. “Sorry, it took so long. We are busy back here.” The bartender gives me a pleading smile while handing me the pitcher.
“Y’all are fine. Thanks so much.” Lifting the pitcher from the counter, I stride back to where my future awaits. She’s dancing to the house mix which is pumping through the speakers.
“Oh snap! My winnings!” she shouts, and I pour us both a glass and watch her take a sip of the amber liquid.
Leaning over, I swipe my thumb over her top lip. “You’ve got some froth there.” Then without concern, I swipe my tongue over the pad of my thumb. “Mm, tastes better on you.” Her cheeks turn a pretty pink, and somehow, she has nothing to say. Fuck, I love making her blush.
“Want to play another round?” Her question is breathy.
“Hell yeah. Best out of three.” She takes the lead from winning the first game and hits the cue ball. But after the show she gave me earlier, when I take my shot, I hit my target easily into the side pocket and smile.
My next several shots are smooth, sinking each ball in ascending order. My girl may not be very humble when she’s winning, but she takes a lesson well enough. “No pouting this time?” I jest, and she scrunches her face at me, taking her turn.
When she lines up her shot, I lean over, enjoying the sight of the shimmy she does with her perfect ass. Paloma thrusts out her stick and pockets the cue ball in the left corner. I stand, snatching the ball out, glancing at her. I jokingly say, “You do realize the white ball isn’t supposed to go in, right?” I watch as she sticks her tongue out at me before her lips settleinto a teasing smile.
Taking my turn, I land a brilliant strike, and Paloma can’t contain herself. “It was a lucky shot. I’ll be taking the next round.”
Grabbing all the balls, I rack them so they’re all aligned right for her, letting her take the first shot. I watch her as she bites her inner cheek, chalks her cue stick, and leans over the table. She closes her eyes right before the cue stick connects with the ball and still pockets a beautiful shot. This time, her steps glide across the floor, moving closer to where I wait, and she rolls her shoulder in a dance. Her flirty smirk wears down my self-control.
“That’s what I like to call precision, Golf Daddy!” When she gets to me, I grip her hips and enjoy the scene of her laughing before she tips her head back, dancing in my grip.
“Golf Daddy?” I squeeze the hip dips I love so much. “I might have you call me that from now on. It has a ring to it.” My teasing forces a bark of laughter from her, and she dances out of my grasp.
“Mm, maybe.” Picking up the cold pitcher of beer, she tops both of our glasses off and aims her gaze at me. “I feel like my luck is just ramping up!”
“Oh, do you now?” I pull at one of her curls. “How about another wager?” When she nods her head, I continue, “If I win, you have to admit I’m the better player, and if you win, I pay for dinner.”
“Fuck yeah! Just know I’ll be wanting something damn good.” I let her bask in the win she just scored, but easily clear the next five balls on my next go. Striking every single one, but two, with precision and ease.
The crowd in the pool hall hasn’t lessened, but everyone here seems to be having a good time. Paloma and I have been in our own little world together, and even those from the golf club are doing their own thing.I’m not mad about my impromptu alone time with Paloma. She takes her turn, and I sidle up next to her to adjust her stance just slightly, moving her elbow and enjoying the soft gasp from her when I lean closer. “Relax your arm here, baby.”
