Page 70 of Soulmates

What had to be an hour later, I’d finally managed to hit all the balls into pockets. The process hadn’t been pretty, but Sam hadn’t seemed frustrated by my lack of skill, only mildly amused.

“Are you ready to play for real?” Sam asked, pulling another stick from the rack on the wall.

“Um, no.”

His smile stretched into something downright predatory. “Too bad.”

Muscles deep inside me clenched at the sound of his low voice as he looked at me like he was planning on eating me alive.

“You said there would be stakes,” I said, doing my best to ignore the way my body was reacting to him.

Sam’s dark eyes glittered as he stalked toward me, and I thanked God that my shirt was loose enough that he couldn’t see the way my nipples tightened. His hands found the edge of the table on either side of me, trapping me. His eyes bored into mine.

“If you win, I’m yours for the evening. We can go or do whatever you want. Just to be clear, do whatever you want doesn’t mean I’ll answer any of your questions, though you’re free to ask them to your heart’s delight.”

“And if you win?”

“If I win, you come upstairs with me and I get to do whatever I want to you.”

I inhaled sharply at his words and the dark promise in his tone.

He grinned at me. “Good luck, Siren.” Then he pushed away from me, turning to rack the balls into a triangle at one end of the table.

A part of me knew I was being foolish. I was going to lose, and I knew better than to agree to bets when I had a zero percent chance of winning. Years of living with Nacio and Orlando had taught me that. And I’d never ever taken a bet against anyone besides my brothers. Because when all was said and done, I knew I could trust my family.

Sam wasn’t family. But I couldn’t deny that I trusted him.

“Do you want to break or would you rather I do it?” Sam asked, holding a black pool cue out to me with a questioning look.

If I was going to refuse to compete, this was the moment to say so.

“You can break,” I said instead, knowing full well the words were an agreement to play with the stakes he’d outlined.

He shot me another grin as he set aside his regular cue and set up to start the game. I was in so far over my head.

The game was bad, really bad. But I suppose it could have been worse. I ended the game with only five of my seven balls still on the table. I was also pretty sure Sam had purposely botched a bunch of his shots just so I could pocket a couple of balls before he totally annihilated me.

“Have you ever played Nacio before?” I asked as he lined up his shot at the eight ball.

“Yep.” He jerked his chin toward one corner of the table. “Left corner pocket,” he said before shooting.

“Did you beat him?” I asked, watching the eight ball sink into the pocket Sam had called.

“Every time.” His gaze flicked from the game to settle on me with an intensity that made me shiver. “But it’s never felt as satisfying as beating you.”

“Sam…”

“Oh no. You don’t get to chicken out on me now, Siren. You played and you lost. It’s time to face the consequences.”

I’d never had any intention of backing out. That wasn’t me. I was the person who refused to play in the first place because I didn’t want to lose. I wasn’t sure which Sam would consider more cowardly, but the reality was Ihadn’trefused this game even though I’d known I was going to lose.

“I’m not chickening out,” I said, holding my head high as Sam moved closer, invading my personal space.

“Good.” He took the pool cue from my hand and laid it with his on top of the table, not bothering to set the room up for the next players. His fingers wrapped around my wrist as he opened the door to the room and pulled me back through the maze of hallways to the stairwell.

“How high up were you talking when you said upstairs?” I asked.

“Penthouse. But I’ll let you take the elevator once we clear the restaurant.”

---