Watching her suspiciously out of the corner of his eye, he took the stick. He grabbed a cube of blue chalk off the rail, quickly chalked the tip, then leaned down to line up his shot. “This isn’t the stick you used the first time. That one had a burgundy wrap.”
Behind him, her eyebrows shot up. “You remember that?”
“Yeah,” Troy said in a low voice, sending the cue ball down the table to break the tight rack. Two solids rolled into different pockets, and he straightened. “I remember everything about you that night.”
With well-hidden shock, she watched him round the table, sinking another three balls, his form and execution well beyond that of a beginner. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me you could play?”
He shrugged in the act of chalking his cue. “You didn’t ask. Besides, there’s a lot we still don’t know about each other, right?”
Ruby’s good mood dwindled. Obviously, despite the mild improvement in his attitude toward her, he still hadn’t gotten over his earlier anger. She took a deep breath, sensing she would be revealing more about herself than she had already. In a way, she felt she owed him some honesty. “What do you want to know?”
“In what capacity did you work for Lenny Driscol?”
“Wow. Straight to the point. Don’t you at least want to know my favorite color first?”
“I already know its green.” He sunk another ball.
“Look, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want. Nobody’s forcing you.”
There it is. The challenge. She hated that he’d played that irresistible card even as she respected it. Crossing her arms over her middle, she steeled herself for his reaction. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”
Troy’s head came up, a look of surprise crossing his face. He hadn’t expected her to talk, Ruby guessed.
“My mother left when I was very young. So young I can’t remember her.” She blew out a heavy breath.
“My father, Jim, has always made his living playing pool. When she left, he couldn’t afford day care or a babysitter, so he took me with him. I grew up in pool halls. Even after I started going to school, they were where I spent my nights and weekends.”
Troy stayed silent, listening intently from across the table, pool stick forgotten in his hand.
“We went on the road during summer vacations.
Stayed in a town long enough to make some money, then moved on. Eventually, it became too much. Too many wildcards when you walk into an unfamiliar place.” She saw Troy’s hand tighten on the stick and decided not to elaborate on that. “We came back to Brooklyn, and my father hooked back up with Lenny.
For a while, everything was great. Lenny found cash games, sent me and my father in, and we gave him a cut of the winnings. Then one time, Lenny shortchanged my father. They argued… It got ugly.” She shrugged, trying to hide the hurt at being abandoned. “My father went back out on the road, and I stayed here.”
“He left you,” he stated angrily. “Yet you continued working for Driscol?”
Ruby nodded. “Pretty much the same gig, only
Bowen started coming with me. He stepped in if things got out of control.”
“How often did that happen?” Troy’s voice cracked like a whip, making Ruby flinch. She held little appreciation for the look on his face. Not judgment exactly, but something resembling incredulity at her decision making. She had the sudden urge to tell him exactly how bad it had been. To see how much truth he could handle before walking away. She held no regrets about anything in her past, and it was time he knew it.
Whether or not he could accept it would be up to him.
“Often,” she finally answered, her chin coming up. “The final match I ever played for Lenny ended in a brawl. Bowen has been a fighter his whole life, but even he couldn’t take on the eight men who wanted a little revenge for having a girl make them look like Grade-A assholes on their turf. I barely escaped out the back door in time. Spent the night hiding in a Denny’s parking lot.”
Troy tossed the stick onto the table, and she watched it roll to a stop against the rail. He rounded the table in her direction, fury blanketing his expression.
“Did you tell me that little story just to piss me the hell off?”
Ruby straightened her spine, resenting the excitement that flowed through her over what his intentions were. What he would do when he reached her. “Yeah. Maybe I did.”
He pulled her body against his. “Well, it fucking worked.” His mouth stamped over hers, cutting off her surprised gasp. Ruby couldn’t resist moaning when his hands sunk into her hair, tugging her head to the side so he could slant his mouth over and over across hers.
When he pulled a little harder than necessary on the long strands, she bit his bottom lip in reproof, but it only made him deepen the kiss, his tongue licking into her mouth with a possessive growl.
“Do you know why you wanted to make me angry?” He spoke directly against her parted, panting lips. “Because you know it makes me hard. You know it makes me hot to fuck.” He tilted his hips and pushed against her, demonstrating the effect of her words.
“That means you’re hot to get fucked. Good. Too bad you’re about to get much more than you bargained for, hustler. Turn around.”
She hesitated. Not because she didn’t want to turn around, but she didn’t feel like giving in to his order so easily. With an impatient noise, Troy gripped her waist and whirled her until she faced away from him.
Her breath shuddered in and out, sounding loud in the empty bar, betraying her need for him. He worked the button of her jeans, then slid his big hand down the inside of her panties. Ruby’s stomach and thighs tightened as if on command. She cried out as he dipped two fingers inside her, then spread the wetness in achingly slow circles around her clitoris. “You can make this a lot easier on yourself by agreeing. No more disappearing. No more dangerous situations. None of it. Agree to it, Ruby. Now.”
Biting her lip, she shook her head. “I can’t.”
He pushed his long fingers inside her, high and tight, forcing her midsection against the pool table. She thought she might have called his name, but couldn’t be sure. “I protect what’s mine. Are you denying that you’re mine, Ruby? I’d seriously advise against it.”
“N-no, I’m not denying it,” she panted, and was rewarded by the continued massaging where she desperately craved his touch. Her head fell forward, her palms supporting her weight on the green felt.
Suddenly, the sweet pressure disappeared, and she felt her jeans and underwear being pulled roughly down her legs. Sobbing in anticipation of what was to come, she pressed back against him and circled her naked bottom against his lap. “Please, Troy. I want it.”
He leaned down and spoke harshly next to her ear. “Not yet. Not even close. Congratulations, you’ve pushed me past my limit today. When I decide you’ve earned it, you’ll get it fast and rough. Not a second before.”
Confusion mixed with eagerness to see what he had planned. What had he meant by making her earn it? Without thinking, she leaned f
orward and placed her upper body flat along the table, putting her backside on display in front of him. He rewarded her with an uneven groan, palming her ass with his callused hands, kneading the flesh with ungentle fingers. “Does this feel good enough for you, or would you rather I make it hurt?”
Ruby’s head dropped forward onto the table’s surface with a whimper. The answer left her mouth before she could analyze it or change her mind. “Make it hurt.”
With his right hand, Troy picked the pool cue off the table. Behind her, she could hear him unscrewing it, separating the smaller, thinner top from the thick base. Not knowing his intentions only served to heighten the anticipation. His roughened breath, his own obvious excitement, shot liquid warmth through her. A moment later, Ruby felt the cue’s top half tracing over the curve of her bottom. The cool, smooth wood felt foreign and soothing moving across her fevered skin. Then, in a move she didn’t anticipate, Troy brought down the thin shaft of wood in one hard swat on her ass.
She sucked in a breath and let it out with a shudder.
Nerve endings snapping, pulse drumming like mad in her ears, all she could think was again. “More.”
“There’s always more, baby.” He repeated the action exactly ten more times, bringing the wooden shaft down to snap against her sensitive flesh until she couldn’t decide where the pain ended and the pleasure started. It became the sole focus of her entire being.
Each swat elicited a moan from her throat in the form of his name. Just when it became too much, when she thought she might combust from the tornado of sensations taking place within her, he stopped. Then the smooth, glossy wood slipped between her thighs until one end rested on the table, the other in his hand.
“You found out what my limits are today, didn’t you?” He skimmed his free hand up her back, then down to rest beside her hip. “Now we’ll test yours.”