#samplesunday: rack 'em

unedited. subject to change. yadda yadda…

“L-losers lead, right?” I fumbled over my words.

Noah nodded slowly, a grin stretching across his face before he turned away to go to the end of the table with his cue and commence the last of our games for the evening. I shook off the haze of whatever these currents flowing between us was and paid attention as he broke. It was an excellent break – with Noah sinking the eleven and thirteen balls in opposing corners with the break.

“Stripes it is,” he declared with a wink before walking around the perimeter of the table to determine his next shot.

He sank two more balls before finally missing a shot and giving me a chance at the table. I wasted zero time sinking three balls in short order, dusting my shoulders off after every made shot.

“Light work, light work,” I said, walking around the table where Noah stood to line up my next shot.

I leaned over the table, then glanced back over my shoulder to talk more shit when I noticed that Noah’s eyes were focused squarely on the curve of my ass and not the game at hand. I wasn’t the only one who noticed as Sarai tossed a look and giggle my way when she noticed Noah’s laser sharp focus.

“Use it,” she mouthed, indicating I should use his obvious attraction to my advantage.

I was so out of practice and thrown that Parker’s earlier assessment was so spot on, I had no idea how to even do that. I stood upright again, momentarily flustered thinking about having more than Noah’s eyes on me.

“I know we’ve got all night, Robinson, but that doesn’t mean you’re at liberty to take it,” Noah drawled, coming to stand right behind me as he spoke directly into my ear.

I shrugged him off. “You’re not scaring anybody, boy,” I replied in a tone that was breezier than my building nerves should have allowed, “Just reevaluating my shot.”

And with that I moved from where I’d previously been trying to shoot the five ball into a corner pocket, rounding the table and going for a trickier shot that would require me to be damn near laid out on the table, arching my back and tooting my ass more than necessary – trying like hell to “use it” like Sarai had suggested.

“Fuck,” I heard Noah expel on a low breath and knew that I’d succeeded.

I ended up missing my shot, but I’d successfully rattled him enough that he missed his next shot as well.

“Time out,” Jonah called out, signaling for Noah to come over to where he stood.

“There’s no time outs in pool, Jo,” Sarai protested, seemingly realizing something that I hadn’t picked up on.

They ignored her, huddling together and she hustled over to me.

“Don’t lose it,” was all she was able to get out before Noah and Jonah broke apart and I set up to take my next turn.

Right as I bent over and situated my cue, Noah came right up behind me, placing one of his hands on my arm that was guiding my shot and the other on the table on the other side of me, effectively boxing me in.

“Your form is terrible,” he whispered into my ear, “you won’t sink another shot holding your cue like that.”

My cue slipped, barely nicking a ball and Noah and Jonah cracked up laughing, slapping high five.

“My turn,” Noah said, brushing me aside.

“You…cheater,” I said, turning around and getting right in his face, “You purposely distracted me.”

“I was just giving you a little advice, Robinson. I have no idea of any of this other mess you are talking about. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Noah replied calmly, moving his hands in a shooing motion for me to step away from the table.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Aight bet. You wanna play foul, we can play foul. Sarai, is it warm in here to you?”

She grinned and nodded, “A bit.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said before removing lightweight, off the shoulder sweatshirt I was wearing over a tank and tying it around my waist, “Ahhhh, much better.”

Just as I knew it would, Noah’s gaze landed on the low-cut neckline of the longline tank I was wearing, centering in on my titties. To up the ante, I leaned over on the table, damn near spilling out of my top as I goaded Noah.

“I thought you said we don’t have all night.”

He opened his mouth to say something in reply, but seemingly thought better of it as he stepped back, shook his head and lined up to take his shot again. In rapid succession, he sank the remaining three balls that he needed to before aiming at the eight ball to win.

“You know,” he said while lining up to make his last shot, “as fine as you are, you overestimated how easily I can be distracted.”

I was so caught on him thinking I was fine that it barely registered to me when he sank the eight ball in a corner pocket, winning the game.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what they call game,” he said, walking up on the camera that Jonah held flexing obnoxiously as the both of them cheered.

“Winner on a cheat,” I called out.

“The game is the game, baby,” Noah shot back, strutting around the pool tables like a peacock.