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CHAPTER TEN

Gray

Bailey bent over the pool table, squinting one eye as he sized up his shot.

“There’s no way you make this one. You’d have to?—”

Clack.

The cue ball careened into the side of the pool table, ricocheted across to crash into a purple-striped ball—which went into the side pocket—then bounced off it to glide toward the corner, where the eight ball remained.

“It’s not going to make it,” I muttered. “It’s moving too slow. It’ll stop, and…”

I trailed off as the cue ball reached the corner and, with a gentle tap, knocked the eight ball into the pocket.

“Son of a bitch!”

Axel draped his arm around my shoulders. “There’s a lot you missed while you were gone, Gray, but you just got a valuable lesson.”

“In how to get hustled?”

Bailey grinned. “Would you believe it was beginner’s luck?”

“No.”

Holden snorted. “Nice try, kid. You’ll have to find a new victim.”

“Maybe that lost little lamb who just came in,” Axel suggested with a nod toward the door. “He looks like he could afford to lose a few bucks.”

We all looked toward the door, where Emory had just stepped inside. He was wearing jeans and a snug T-shirt—both too nice for him to really fit in with this crowd, but miles better than a suit—and my mouth watered at how damn good he looked.

Emory paused, scanning the bar. I suddenly imagined it through his eyes: the dingy floor in need of a mopping; the flimsy card tables scattered around the room; the scuffed-up bar and grungy bartender who looked as likely to start a bar fight as serve you a drink.

Why did I invite him here instead of going into town? Stupid.

Emory’s gaze landed on me then, and he smiled shyly.

“Well, hello,” Axel said, cutting his gaze toward me. “The lamb isn’t so lost after all.”

“Does he have news about the loan?” Holden asked, obviously confused.

“Nah. I invited him for a drink.”

“The loan?” Axel said. “You mean that guy’s our lender ?”

“Emory Gold,” Holden confirmed, “of Gold Community Bank.”

“Whoa,” Bailey said. “Are you like trying to seduce him to save the business?”

“What?” I scoffed. “ No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re the one making eyes with the freaking loan guy,” he muttered.

“Why don’t you all get lost?” I suggested as Emory got closer. “I don’t need you scaring him away.”

“Fine. I need another Coke, anyway.” Bailey hung up his pool cue.

“Be careful,” Holden murmured. “Emory does hold our fate in his hands. Don’t forget that, okay?”

I nodded once. The way I saw it, Emory’s job had nothing to do with him and me and whatever happened tonight. I planned to make him a happy man—whether our pants came off or not.

Axel was the slowest to leave. He had an irritatingly cocky smile on his face as Emory reached me.

“Hey, Gray,” he said, gaze flicking between me and Axel. “Am I interrupting? We can meet up some other time.”

“No, my brother was just leaving.” I glared at Axel. “Right?”

He chuckled. “Yup. But if you get bored with this guy, come find me.” He winked.

He fucking winked at Emory and walked away.

Asshole.

Emory watched him go, shifting to cross his arms over his chest. “Does he know…?”

“He knows I’m gay.”

I left out the part where I’d only told him tonight. If I hadn’t, meeting up with Emory would have been a hell of a lot more awkward. I had no desire to hide my interest in him.

Emory’s teeth dug into his bottom lip. He was obviously skittish.

“He’s not going to say anything,” I assured him. “None of my brothers would.”

Emory nodded once.

“Come on, let’s grab a drink and shoot some pool. That’s what all the guys come here to do. Nothing suspicious about that, right?”

Emory relaxed a fraction. “Right.”

We ordered a couple of beers at the bar and snagged the only open pool table. It was obvious why it was available as we got set up to play. The felt top on this one had seen better days, with a couple of tears that could fuck with a game. Something red had splashed across the middle of the table at some point, and there were drink rings staining the wood around the edge.

“So, how good are you at pool?” I asked.

Emory grimaced. “Not very.”

“You’re not hustling me like my baby brother, are you? Because Bailey just kicked my ass, and I don’t know if my ego can take it from you too.”

He laughed, flicking a glance over at my brothers, where they’d crowded around a table with the tattoo artist from the other night and a couple of guys I didn’t recognize.

Holden handed one a business card. We’d already made the rounds when we first got here for dinner—telling people about the expanding bike business—but Holden didn’t know when to call it a night and relax.

“Aw, the kid beat you?” Emory teased.

I moved around the table, brushing against Emory’s back as I reached for a cue stick. “No, the kid embarrassed me. I’m really glad you got here after that.”

“And yet you’re telling me…” Our eyes met. “Trying to put me at ease?”

“Is it working?”

“A little.”

“Good.” I leaned my stick against the wall and racked the balls, then gestured to Emory. “Go ahead and break.”

He fetched a cue stick, leaned over the table, and lined up the shot. I could tell by his stance that he didn’t do this a lot. My ego was safe from another thrashing.

The long, lean line of his body bent over the table was pretty damn distracting, though.

“How about we make this interesting?” I suggested as he took the shot and sent balls rolling in all directions. Nothing went into a pocket.

“Interesting how?” Emory asked, guarded.

“Well…” I bent and took an easy shot, sending a solid orange into a side pocket, then straightened and moved in close. “How about if I make the next shot, I get another kiss later?”

Emory’s breath caught.

“But only if you’re into it,” I added.

His tongue swiped over his bottom lip. “Yeah, okay. But if you miss…”

I raised my eyebrow.

“Then I get a closer look at your tattoos.”

I leaned back against the pool table. “All of them?”

His gaze darkened as he swept it over me, head to foot and back. “Yeah.” He paused. “But only if you’re into it.”

I chuckled. “Golden boy, there’s not much I wouldn’t be into with you.”

“Careful,” he said as I turned to line up the shot. “I could have some weird kink like shocking your balls with a cattle prod.”

His words made me jerk in surprise, and my shot went wide. I turned to see him smirking at me. “Well played. You got me.”

He grabbed his beer and took a big gulp. “Don’t worry, Gray. If I make this shot, then I want you to kiss the shit out of me.”

“Well, hell.” I stepped back and zipped my lips. “I’ll let you concentrate on the game.”

He laughed at me, then turned and made an easy shot of a green-striped ball into a corner pocket.

“Perfect. Keep going. One isn’t going to be enough.”

Emory’s gaze met mine, heat flickering between us. Then he turned to the game with such an intense focus that it would have been funny if it wasn’t so fucking sexy. Emory was no pool shark—and neither was I—so we missed a few shots, but we were both trying our darnedest as we gambled kisses, items of clothing, touches.

The more we drank, the riskier the bets got. Until Emory was down to his last shot to sink the eight ball, and my mouth ran away with me.

“Make this shot and I’ll suck your dick,” I told him.

His hand slipped, and he scratched—the cue ball going into the pocket instead of the eight ball.

“Too much?” I asked.

“No, I uh… I’ve just never… I want to bet you the same, but I don’t know if?—”

He went silent, biting his bottom lip as I grasped his arm. I stepped in close. “It’s a game. I’m not holding you to anything you’re not ready for.”

“I want to be ready,” he said softly. “But I haven’t done anything with a guy before. Dallas just kind of messed with my head. I got on Thrust to figure some things out about me, and then he offered to take me for a ride, and it went…”

“Badly.”

“Really badly,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle. “I’ve been too nervous to get back on the app. About the only thing that went right that night was meeting you.”

I held his gaze. “How do you feel about that kiss we had?”

“I think about it all the time,” he confessed.

“Me too.” I took the cue stick from his hands and returned it to the caddy with mine, then turned back to him. “If you want more answers, golden boy, you can figure them out with me. I’ll never push you. You’ll be safe to explore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, all teasing bets aside, we’ll do whatever you want. Whenever you want.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Besides knowing you won’t end up bleeding on the side of the road?”

Emory winced. “Never gonna live that down, huh?”

“You’re not the one who needs to live it down,” I said. “But I’d feel better knowing you were safe with me.”

“So…this is a rescue project?”

“Hell no. Have you looked in a mirror? You’re gorgeous.”

Pink climbed his neck, crawling over a pulse point I’d love to get my teeth into. Damn, I was half-hard as I stood here and talked a good game about keeping him safe. Stupid. No man wanted to hear that.

I leaned in. “If I’m honest, I want you so much I’m fighting the urge to throw you over the table and kiss every inch of your body right now.”

His lips parted, color flooded into his cheeks, and he nodded. “Want to get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

I shot a glance toward my brothers’ table. They were gone. Shit. I’d lost track of the whole world outside of Emory.

I smiled sheepishly. “I think you might need to give me a ride this time.”

“Then let’s go.”

We made it out the door and into his sleek silver Audi. Once the door closed behind me, all bets were off. Or rather, they were on.

“I owe you a kiss,” Emory said, grabbing a fistful of my T-shirt and drawing me closer.

“More like ten,” I murmured, “but who’s counting?”

Our mouths crashed together, teeth clacking as we both rushed in too fast. I grabbed his jaw, keeping him where I wanted him, and tilted my head for a better position. Emory’s mouth went soft and slack under mine, lips parting to let my tongue inside.

We both groaned at that first taste. Dark beer, a little bitter, tasted awfully sweet on Emory’s tongue. His fingers slid into my hair, tugging me closer, and his mouth opened wider, so needy for me.

I nipped his bottom lip, making him gasp, then dragged my mouth along his jaw to that delicious throat I’d been eyeing up all night. I kissed and sucked and nipped my way to his shoulder, yanking at the collar of his shirt to bare more skin.

“Wait,” he murmured.

I pulled back, breathing hard. “Too fast?”

“No.” His lips quirked. “But you’re the one who’s supposed to be taking off that shirt so I can see all your ink.”

I chuckled. “You’re really into it, huh?”

“I’m an artist. I appreciate beautiful things.”

“So is it just my ink you’re interested in or my body?” I teased.

“Can’t it be both?”

“It better be,” I said. “But the car’s dark, and someone might come out and see us.”

Emory dropped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “Right. Yeah. We should call it a night.”

“I didn’t say that.” He opened his eyes, glancing sidelong at me. “I need a ride home, anyway. Come inside when we get there.”

He hesitated. “Your brothers…”

“They know anyway,” I reminded him. “They’ll be cool about it.”

Emory raised a hand, nibbling at a ragged-looking nail on his index finger. I gently tugged his hand down. “You can say no, golden boy. You call the shots, remember?”

“I don’t want to say no.” He pushed the ignition button, and the engine started with a gentle purr. “Just, uh, be patient with me if I screw it up. I’m new to all this.”

“You’re not going to screw up anything, Em. You’re already exactly what I want.”