Chapter 6

The air in the back room of the vintage pool hall was thick, heavy with the scent of aged leather, stale tobacco, and the metallic tang of my own arousal. It was a private sanctuary away from the clatter of the game outside, a dimly lit cocoon where the only sounds were the hum of the amber lights overhead and the ragged syncopation of our breathing. The green felt tables lined the walls like silent sentinels, but my world had narrowed down to the expanse of my body against the plush, worn leather of the booth. I was on my hands and knees, the rough texture of the leather biting slightly into my palms, my hips raised high in that primal, inviting arch. My skirt was hiked up around my waist, bunched up like a cloud of silk around my torso, leaving my backside bare and exposed to the cool air. I could feel the draft from the ventilation above, chilling the sweat beading along my spine, but the heat radiating from him behind me was a furnace. He hadn’t moved yet. He was just there, a looming presence, his shadow falling over me, blocking out the amber glow. I