Kingdom Come

There he was spoiling things by opening his gorgeous mouth and saying crap like that.

“Who said I was offering?” I snapped, feeling the burn of rejection again. Apparently when I didn’t storm off as maybe I should have, I’d told him I liked being spurned.

“Who said I wasn’t taking?” He leered at me with a smug smile. “Just because you’re not my type doesn’t mean I won’t sample.” He let his gaze drop down my body again. “How about your total submission for a day? Whatever I want.”

“Again, who said I was offering?”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to play.”

His arrogance was the fire that made me want to bring him down a peg.

“What do I get when I win?”

“Sweetheart, that isn’t likely.”

I huffed, shifting a hand to my hip. “There isn’t anything sweet or heartfelt about me.”

He chuckled, and I ignored all the jeers around us.

After licking his lips, he said, “What do you want if you win?”

What did I want? “Same deal. Total submission for one day.”

A chorus of hoots and more wisecracks followed.

“Doesn’t sound like a hardship, princess.”

“It might be if I walk you around New York with a dog collar around your neck.”

Though I’d meant it as a joke to bring his ego to heel, I swore his eyes dilated a little. For moments, it was the two of us in a battle of wills. Screwing this guy until he was begging for my number was my new mission. And I didn’t care what people thought. I had to conquer him after he suggested I wasn’t good enough for him.

He leaned in and whispered, “Do you know what to do with a collar, princess? Because I do.”

I swallowed, prepared to take it all back. I’d met my match, and it was time to concede.

Only he straightened. “I’ll take the bet.”

And it was too late. In for a penny and in for a pound.

Pool was not only a game of skill, but a game of luck with the first break. How the balls landed could spell a win or a loss. My ace was his underestimation of me. But had I underestimated him?

“Shall we?” he said and racked the balls.

I pulled the stick I’d used during my game with Griff, then Striker took position.

“This was your challenge,” he said before effortlessly hitting the cue ball and calling “Solids,” at the same time.

We hadn’t set any rules, but when I saw the balls position perfectly for him to run the table, I said, “Fuck.”

His only response was, “Precisely.”SevenConnorWith practiced ease, I sank ball after ball until all the solids were gone, leaving just the perfectly positioned eight ball. The blonde’s sexy lips formed a rounded O—perfect for blow job penetration—as I hadn’t given her one chance. I’d run the table. I took the final shot, sinking the black ball and ending the game.

I would have said something catchy to glorify my win, but Griffin came barreling over and snagged my prize by the arm.

“We’re leaving,” he announced, and the crowd that had formed booed him.

“Griff,” she admonished. “One second,” she said to me.

They moved as far as they could from the bystanders and me, but Griffin was practically foaming at the mouth and he wasn’t careful not to be overheard. I was the closest to them, and those behind me continued to talk about my skill at dominating the game.

Griff threw up his hands after the blonde jerked out of his hold. “So what? You won’t fuck me, but you’ll fuck a perfect stranger?”

Her back was to me, but I saw her hand go up. Only he caught it before she could deal an open-handed slap. He said something that apparently hurt her, considering the slow way her hand moved back to her side. Whatever she said in response, I wasn’t privy to.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m going back to Scotland tomorrow. The only reason I didn’t go with Kalen is because of you. Because of tonight.”

Her shoulders slumped and her head bent forward as if she was staring at the floor. For a moment, I wanted to rush in and punch Griffin and not to pay him back for the other night. But for her.

But instead of saying anything to Griffin, she turned and came directly to me. I had no idea what she was about to say.

“You won.”

“I did,” I said.

“I’m a woman of my word, but I can’t make good on it tonight.”

So the weasel had won. What I didn’t know was if he had convinced her to sleep with him. The notion somehow bothered me. But I schooled my features and reached in my pocket, pulling out a card. I handed it to her. It was all black, and the raised numbers were black as well, though they were shiny against the matte background.

“Call me and we’ll set up a time.”