Barely acquaintances, really.
I hadn’t seen him for years, not since he was a teenager. That was all this was. We were reminiscing about old times—not that we’d done much of that—but it was all I could do.
“Bend over, Carina. Get nice and close to the table,” he murmured, pressing his groin against my ass. I bit back a whimper. He was a wall of muscle, hard in all the right places, and I meant every. Single. One of the right places.
Oh Jesus H. Christ.
I bent further, but he didn’t back up. With my ass pressed against him, the way his cock twitched, hardening even further, was unmistakable.
I needed this to stop. Immediately.
I took the shot, but I missed the white ball altogether.
I groaned, then ducked out from his grip. “Yeah, so, apparently I’m not very good at this. Who would have thought? I was at home raising Cara, you know, my daughter, the one who’s nearly your age when people my age—your age now, actually—were playing pool. You take the next shot. I’m sure you’ll be great,” I rambled, my words speeding up with each one that spilled out of my mouth. My pulse rocketed through me, and I flushed, heat crawling up my throat to my cheeks.
I held the cue out to him, but he didn’t immediately reach for it. Instead, Jacques looked down and pressed his lips into a tight smile. “Carina, I—”
“No, it’s okay, Jacques. Seriously, I’ve just got no talent for this.”
“Please,” he said and then took the cue out of my hand and laid it on the table. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I apologize.”
“No, it’s nothing. I’m just not used to… never mind.” I shook my head and plastered on a smile that I was sure looked more like a grimace.
“You’re not used to what?” he asked gently. He hooked his finger under my chin and lifted my face until I had no choice but to look him in the eye. He gazed at me with puppy dog eyes, and I got lost in his stare. He was so freaking beautiful. “You can talk to me,” he murmured.
I said the first thing that came to mind. “Muscles. I’m not used to muscles.”
That wasn’t it—well, not all of it, anyway. David didn’t have muscles like Jacques, but he also hadn’t made me feel this desirable in a long time either. I didn’t know whether our marriage had fallen into that flatmate rut or if he simply wasn’t attracted to me anymore. If we were comparing heat levels, my marriage to David was barely lukewarm, while with Jacques, I could have been standing on the surface of the sun.
Jacques bit back a smile and gestured to the table with a tilt of his chin. “Would you like to try again? I’ll keep my… muscles away from you.”
“Oh.” I huffed out a laugh, my cheeks heating again. “Sure, okay.”
I got back into position, and Jacques adjusted my grip again, but instead of moving behind me, he stood to my side and demonstrated how to take the shot. It was ridiculous, but I missed him. I missed his heat and the vibrance that emanated from him. I missed his masculinity and the way he’d held me.
No, Carina, eyes back on the game.
I copied Jacques’s stance, and he grinned. “Now hit the white ball hard. You aren’t going to break it.”
I put some force behind the hit and broke the racked-up balls, sending a few bouncing off the edge of the table and one teetering close to a pocket. “Oh shit. I did it!” I exclaimed excitedly, turning to him.
We were standing close to each other. Too close for friends. Too close for family friends with a massive age gap and an attraction that was completely and utterly inappropriate.
“You did.” He grinned and held his hand up for a high five.
I slapped my palm against his and met his gaze. Heat swirled in the depths of his eyes, and I sucked in another breath. His eyes flicked to my mouth, and I bit my lip, fighting to stop the moan from escaping. It took everything in me to drop my hand rather than interlace our fingers.
“Take another shot, Carina,” Jacques ordered, his voice a deep rasp. Even that was sexy.
“Which one do I go for?”
He licked his lips and tore his gaze away from mine, assessing the table. “The red.” It was near the middle pocket, but to reach it, I’d have to lean over the table.
I moved around and lined up the way he showed me, then bent. I heard a noise that sounded like a strangled moan and flicked my eyes up to Jacques. He wasn’t looking at my face. His eyes were glued on my ass, and he subtly reached down and adjusted himself. My pussy clenched, throbbing hard.
This couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t.
I shouldn’t.
