Page 21

chapter

twenty

Stella

O llie was a hustler. He may not have had time for minimum wage jobs like waiting tables or tending bar, but he certainly had time to learn pool like a pro. That and he had the audacity to act like he wasn’t very good. Okay, in hindsight, I really shouldn’t have been so shocked. Particularly after Gem ran the table to win our bet.

When Ollie beat me before I’d even drank half my glass, I demanded a rematch for best out of three games. It was a reasonable request since his bet was to go skinny dipping with him in their outdoor pool.

“You trying to back out on our bet, Snow?” Amusement filtered through his words as he studied me from those dark eyes.

“As if,” I said with a snort while gathering the balls back together and racking them. “Considering you and Gem play with the same cutthroat technique, I’m sure you can handle it.”

“Didn’t say I couldn’t,” he said, raising his own glass and downing the rest with one swallow. “Just making sure you were still up for it.”

“Absolutely.” I drew a finger along the edge of the bumper as I circled the table to reclaim my cue. “Want to make it interesting?”

“Pretty sure we already did,” he murmured when I was right in front of him. “But I love the way your lips move when you’re talking, so tell me what you had in mind.”

The liquid smoothness in his statement sent a flutter right through me. Damn, as lines went, that was…excellent. “Flirting will get you nowhere.”

“Then there’s no harm in it.” He punctuated the sentiment with a wink. “Are you going to tell me what you have in mind?”

Already rethinking the idea, I slanted a look at the table and kept my attention on him via my periphery. “How do you feel about strip pool?”

“Probably a safe bet to say that I’m on board, since we were betting for going skinny-dipping.”

I grinned before I could suppress the reaction. “Fine, then let’s do it this way…for every ball I sink, you lose an article of clothing.”

“And for every ball I sink, you do,” he countered, a heated look dancing with the playfulness in his eyes. Seriously, the man just oozed sex appeal and charisma. It wasn’t fair ’cause it didn’t even seem like he had to try.

“The winner?”

“Well, you’re already down one out of three to me, so if I win round two, we head right out to the pool and you’ll be ready to dive in. Don’t worry, it’s heated and cleaned regularly.” He swirled the last bit of wine in his glass before he downed it.

“If I win, then we have to keep playing…”

“And keep losing clothes,” Ollie murmured. “Not really feeling a downside here, Snow.”

“Not trying for one, but I like knowing what’s on the table. Real stakes and all that.” Pivoting, I faced the table. “Winner breaks.”

Here was hoping he left me an opening because I’d learned that giving him or Gem one was a recipe for a loss.

“Want to add a little more spice to the game?” He shifted to stand right behind me, so close I couldn’t miss the heat rising off of him or the tickle of his cologne in my nostrils. It was sandalwood and musk. It could be body wash or shampoo.

Whatever it was, it was damn attractive.

“You like to play with fire,” I said, keeping both hands on my pool cue. I still had half a glass of wine left. Between the food, the earlier margaritas, the wine, and the company—not to mention some very thorough kisses from Gem—I was more than a little turned on.

With a barely there caress, Ollie ran his nose from my cheek to my ear and then to my neck, where he pressed a whisper-soft kiss. My nipples went rock-hard as a shiver cascaded through me.

“So do you,” Ollie whispered. “Could be dangerous for you, Snow.”

Laughing softly, I turned slightly and tilted my head to see him better. “Don’t worry, Ollie. I won’t melt.”

“That,” he said in a silky tone, “sounds like a challenge.”

Playing a very dangerous game? Check.

Beyond caring if I win? Also check.

Except Gem…

That was a sobering thought. “Your break,” I reminded him.

“Winner’s choice,” he said, his breath teasing little whirls against my skin. “So you can do the break, Snow.”

Despite the air-conditioning in their very expensive home, I was definitely overheating. Licking my lips, I took a risk and bumped his hip with mine so I could change positions. His low chuckle suggested I was in no way subtle nor did I avoid rubbing against him as I circled around.

The connection had every one of my nerves lit up and on fire. Touching my tongue to my teeth, I shook my head. Bad Stella. Stop fantasizing about what he looks like naked.

That was almost more challenging than I cared to admit because I’d seen him shirtless in more than a few roles. The cut of his washboard abs was so sharp, it definitely threatened to slice my panties right off.

That was if the fabric survived all the heat he put off no matter how soaked they were. One delicious thought slid right into another, and I reclaimed the wineglass for a drink. Alcohol wasn’t going to cool me off, but it gave me something else to think about.

Aware of his gaze on me, I took care to line up my shot. Flattening my back while my ass pushed back, I had one leg extended just slightly as I planted my foot. Focusing my attention on the cue ball, I pictured exactly what I wanted to happen.

I wanted a ball in the hole and his shirt off.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale—shoot. I snapped the cue ball forward with a smart snap. The break was fucking perfect. Two solid-colored balls, two separate corner pockets.

Straightening, I turned to meet Ollie’s smirk. “Two balls, Griffiths. Pay up.”

“I never argue with a woman who is good with balls.”

I rolled my eyes. “That was cheesy.”

“But you still liked it,” he teased. “Besides, cheese is excellent with wine.” He nudged off his shoes one after the other, then took off his socks.

I snorted as he gave me an impudent look. “You want more off me, Snow, you’re going to have to tap a lot of those balls.”

“Challenge accepted.” Wineglass in hand, I saluted him, then took a drink. Despite my early thought to slow down, I was almost finished. Facing the table again, I studied what shots were open to me. “Green in the side pocket,” I informed him as I circled the table.

One sharp tap and into the hole it went. Still half folded as though I were lining up my next shot, I lifted my gaze to Ollie.

He leaned his cue stick to the side and undid his belt, slid it off, then set it to the side.

“That’s just a belt,” I reminded him.

“It’s an article of clothing,” he countered, practically daring me to argue.

“It’s an accessory, but fine,” I said, chuckling. “Make me work for it. Blue in the corner.”

“You want me naked, Snow, just say the word.” He managed to deliver that smoking line just as I made the bounce shot and sent the blue ball into its corner. “Nerves of steel. I like that about you.”

This time, he didn’t wait for me to look at him; he just unzipped his pants and stripped them off before folding them and laying them to the side. He sported a very nice pair of silk boxers.

At least, I thought they might be silk. They could have been cotton. The back of them was hunter green, but nothing could prepare me for when he turned around. I damn near choked on the last of my wine.

His grin was even wider.

“Why are you wearing elephant boxer shorts?” Because there was no mistaking what the elephant’s trunk was supposed to be—and yes it did make me wonder if he was also erect and filling it out fully.

“I like truth in my advertising. Heard someone say once ‘if you're hung like a bull elephant, you should let people know.’”

Fuck.

The moisture in my mouth dried up and I forgot how to breathe.

“You really want to know right now,” he said, unabashed and open with his smirk. “Don’t you?”

“With a lead up like that? Oh yeah.” I gave him a once-over. He had his shirt, possibly an undershirt, and then the boxers. I flicked a look back at the table. “Three balls…I got this.”

“You could,” he murmured, and I made myself tune him out. Because I wasn’t sure what was coming out of his mouth next, even if I was utterly enjoying the whole experience.

“Red, side pocket,” I said, then made the shot and didn’t look at him as I circled the table. With the cue stick, I gestured to another ball and another corner pocket, I sank it. That was two.

The rustle of fabric made me look as he stripped off the shirt and bared that very chiseled chest. Maybe not as spritzed with oil to make it sheen and ripped as he would be for a movie, but the man really had nothing to worry about. The natural beauty in his body was probably the thing sculptors like Michaelangelo sought to replicate with all that work in marble.

Fuck, it was making my fingers itch for my camera and not for pap shots. I’d bet my left nipple that I could get the most artistic shots out of him. The desire to test that theory waged a heavy battle against continuing this tug-of-war we were playing.

Because with the pool games at one to one, he would be naked and I wouldn’t be skinny-dipping— yet .

“One more ball, Snow.” It was a couple more to win the game, but I couldn’t really argue. I wanted those elephant boxers off because I would never in a million years have expected something quite so absurd to be such a goddamn turn-on.

Dragging my gaze off him and back to the table, I pursed my lips. My shot options were limited. Still…no risk no reward. I gestured for the ball I wanted and then nodded to the pocket in the corner closest to me. It would need a hell of a bank shot.

The world bled away from me as I narrowed everything down to the shot I needed to make. I pictured where I had to strike it with the cue so it hit the bumper and rebounded perfectly.

Physics.

It was all physics.

The snap of the cue forward took all my desire with it, and the ball dropped into the pocket just like I’d pictured it. Satisfaction unfurled. Yes, I had a couple more balls to go, but frankly, I’d won as far as I was concerned.

Chuckling, Ollie reached for his shorts to strip them off, but just as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband, an alarm ripped through the house. I jerked at the sudden volume of what sounded like a cross between a klaxon on some sci-fi show and the most annoying siren on the road.

“Fuck,” Ollie swore as he strode toward a wall console—boxers in place. Yes, I looked. Sue me. I followed, even as I pressed my hands over my ears. Holy shit it was loud. At the panel, Ollie punched a couple of buttons and the screens lit up with images from the exterior. My car was on one. The gate was on another. Then it flickered and there was a garage, a side garden, and?—

“There,” I said because something blurry was moving. It was almost too pink to stay hidden in the dark, and when Ollie tapped the screen to make it larger, I did a double take.

It was a woman.

A very nude woman racing across the grass from their east wall. Her breasts and her thighs had about the same amount of jiggle. I had to give her props though—she didn’t slow her speed even when she crossed the white pebbled pathway in her bare feet.

The alarm cut off abruptly as Ollie pivoted to head back over to his pants. I split my attention between the woman on the screen and what he was doing.

“Sorry, Snow. I just need to call the security company. They always have someone in the area. They can come and deal with her.” He had pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Does this happen often?” I’d heard about some crazy fan encounters, but what delusion did you have to have to think that running onto someone’s property naked was going to get you five minutes with the object of your…affection? Obsession? Whatever.

“That’s why we have security,” Ollie explained as he headed back to me, phone at his ear. “Yes, this is Griffiths,” he said before reciting his address. “We’ve got what looks like a naked intruder streaking on the property and”—he let out such a put-upon sigh—“she’s heading for our pool.”

I found myself wanting to offer him some genuine sympathy because he sounded truly forlorn.

“Immediately,” Ollie continued. “We’ll be inside until you get here.” He ended the call, his scowl deepening for a moment as the woman dove right into the water.

“It looks like a very nice pool.”

“Yeah,” Ollie said. “Now we’ll have to clean it again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said with another sigh. “But yeah, that’s why we have security to deal with…well, that.”

“Sometimes though,” Seven interjected and I jumped because I hadn’t even heard him come in. Granted my ears were still ringing, but Seven radiated a kind of chaotic cloud of raging disapproval. I’d notice that before I would his footsteps. “The crazies just get walked right in the front door.”

Since his gaze was fixed on me, I didn’t have to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“My brother not enough for you, Stray? Trying to catch Ollie in your claws now?”

Since he wasn’t wrong but I had zero intentions of humoring him, I faced Ollie. “Maybe I should go.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Ollie said. “Ignore Seven. It’s what I do.”

“I don’t have a problem with ignoring him.” In fact, I took no small amount of pleasure in making sure he understood I was ignoring him. “But there’s no skinny-dipping tonight and you probably want to get dressed before security gets here.”

His smirk was downright adorable. “I promise you, they’ve seen me worse and we didn’t finish our game.”

The man was dangerously tempting. “Rain check?”

Ollie dipped his head and I swore I thought he was going to kiss me, but all he did was whisper, “You better believe it,” with his lips mere centimeters from mine.

Seven made a gagging noise but Ollie just winked before he pivoted and went to his clothes. Damn, I hated to see him go, but I really didn’t mind watching him walk away.

I allowed myself that little pleasure at least until Seven’s gagging cough grew even louder. If he weren’t a grown-ass adult, I’d have sworn he just did a slut cough.

Finally, I cut a look at him. “Hairball?”

He glared but Ollie just laughed, and when I looked back at the screen, their nude visitor was making herself at home swimming lazy laps in their pool.

Yeah, that was definitely weird.