Page 26 of Not Your Ex's Hexes
“Of course. Why, aren’t you?”
His lips twitched as he held out a hand as a gesture to make their way to the pool table. “After you…”
Rose brushed past him with a wink. “Warm up those listening ears, doc, because I’m about to beat the pants off you.”
As she reached for the triangle to rack the balls, a wall of heat warmed her back. She sucked in a sharp breath as his mouth brushed against her ear. “That sorta sounds like an incentive for me to lose.”
The triangle slipped from her hands. Damian’s low chuckle sent a horde of butterflies straight to her lady bits, a distraction she couldn’t afford if she planned on winning this bet. And she did.
Her heartbeat thundering, she reminded herself of everything that was at stake. Animals’ lives. Mari’s Sanctuary.
The taste of victory coated the back of her tongue, and it tasted a hell of a lot like vanilla.
Low chuckles dragged Damian’s eyes away from Rose to where Bax and Adrian laughed openly while the others got comfortable at the nearby booth, looking like they were preparing to watch a Broadway show.
The Guardian Angel shook his head as he leaned against the wall. “You’re such a newb, Adams. You should’ve just listened to her.”
“Is that your way of telling me I made a deal with the devil?”
“The devil? Nah.” Bax smirked. “You would’ve had a small chance of coming out on top if you had.”
Well, fuck.
Rose waited expectantly from the other side of the table, her delectable mouth pulled up into a coy, knowing smirk.
Double-fuck. That definitely wasn’t the face of a woman concerned about losing.
“Are we doing this, doc? The sooner you accept your fate, the sooner we can finish the plans for this Bonding Ceremony… and then the sooner you and I can have our sit-down.” Rose sweetly handed him a cue. “You can break.”
He took off his leather jacket and tossed it into Bax’s laughing face before taking the stick. His fingers wrapped over hers, and as had happened before, an immediate zing traveled from the point of contact up his arm. Judging by the slight widening of Rose’s eyes, he hadn’t been the only one who’d felt it.
He made sure his palm brushed along her skin as he slowly took the cue. “You should’ve told me you’re a pool shark. I can’t help but feel a little defrauded.”
Her dark eyebrows lifted. “Fraud implies that I told you I’ve never played the game a day in my life, but I didn’t tell you a thing about my abilities. You assumed—probably because I have breasts—that I wouldn’t be familiar with it.”
“That wasn’t it at all,” he said truthfully. “I was just confident of my own prowess.”
Keeping an eye on Rose, he leaned over the table and took the breaking shot. Balls scattered in every direction, at least four—three solids and a stripe—sinking into various pockets. “I guess I’ll take solids.”
He shifted around the table for his next turn, picking off two more balls and feeling pretty damn good about himself until Rose walked behind him, her arm barely brushing his back. That zap returned, and he jolted, the cue ball sinking into a side pocket in a disappointing scratch.
He cursed, while she and their friends chuckled.
“Prowess, you said?” Smirking, Rose flicked her gaze from him to the table as she debated her strategy. “Do you want to know how I got so good at pool, doc?”
Sending him a heated look that had his cock twitching in his jeans, she leaned over and drew back her cue. Without taking her eyes off him, she snapped it forward and three of her stripes dropped into pockets with a fourth hovering an inch away from the corner pocket.
“How?” he heard himself ask.
“My sisters and I played every weekend with our grandfather, from the time we were big enough to hold a stick until he passed. Watching us beat his old Army friends was practically his favorite pastime.”
“Hear-hear,” Vi cheered from the table. The Prima Apparent and Olive clinked their glasses, each grinning wide. “Nothing withers overinflated egos better than being defeated by a twelve-year-old with braces.”
Rose took a page from Damian’s own book and leaned close, whispering for his ears only, “If you want your ego to remain intact, we can call this a draw and you can listen to my ideas now. I’m good either way, although part of me was really hoping to beat those pants off you. Are you a boxers or briefs guy?”
He played her coy bluff and stepped close. “If you want my pants off, little witch, all you need to do is ask. And while you’re at it, we should probably add commando as a third option.”
Her cheeks flushed, and damn if he didn’t like it. Playing with fire never felt so damn good. “I think it’s your turn… Ro.”
