slowly down the lane.
Daphne stomps her foot. “I want to go again. That wasn’t— I just lost my grip before I was ready!”
“Of course you did, baby,” I humor her. “Don’t worry. The ball’s coming right back.”
I had a new mechanism installed when I inherited the place so her ball returns up the shoot quickly and she’s up again, glaring down the lane. She does make an attempt to square up her body parallel to the pins, but at the last second she twists diagonally and the ball ends up right back in the gutter.
She throws her hands up and spins around, the hem of her sweater lifting to reveal a tantalizing amount of thigh.
She notices me looking and her annoyed expression fades. She comes towards me, the vixen expression back in her eyes. “Why don’t we do something more entertaining?” She tries to climb in my lap.
I laugh and grab her by the waist, depositing her on the bench beside me. “When was the last time you tried something you weren’t naturally good at the first time? No, no, this is quite entertaining enough. Plus, it’s my turn now.” I nip her on the lips and then pull back.
I grab my favorite ball and head towards the lane. I’ve spent more hours than I’d ever admit down here on endless lonely nights. I know the quirks of this lane and when I wind up and release, the ball flies out of my hand and down the lane. It explodes into the pins and they’re all knocked over.
Daphne jumps up and claps. “You got a— What do they call it? A knockdown?”
Fuck, she cracks me up. “A strike, baby. They call it a strike.”
She grins at me as she comes over, holding her ball to her stomach. “Okay, I wanna learn. I’ll be a good girl and listen.”
Does she know what those words do to me? I’m very tempted to toss away the bowling balls and take her up on her earlier offer, but the light sparkling in her eyes is too much to turn away from. Fun is a foreign concept to her, so I tell my dick to shut the hell up and together we go back to the lane.
The machine has reset all the pins and she lines up again, doing several experimental swings that would definitely have ended up as gutter balls if she’d let them loose.
We spend the next thirty minutes working on her form and she gets that familiar expression on her face like when she’s studying a hard problem she has to solve.
And when the first ball goes straight enough to actually make it all the way down the lane and actually strikes some pins, she whoops so loud and starts jumping up and down, I grin wider than I ever have maybe in my whole damn life.
This woman. This fucking woman.
I grab her up in my arms and kiss her. She swings her arms around my neck, which makes me immediately tense up but then her lips are on mine. Her cheek is mashed against the leather of my mask, but it’s like it’s not even there for her, she’s so eager to get at my mouth. As if I’m a whole man to her.
Gods, I want to devour her. And as much as I’ve been patient, she’s thrusting her groin against mine, lifting a leg to wrap around my ass to pull me into her…
But she’s touching me. Touching… She could feel, or if she—
I finally growl and grab her wrists, yanking them away from around my back. She’s startled and breathless and her leg drops.
Then I grab her around the waist and carry her the two feet to a smooth wood-paneled wall and thrust her up against it just like I dreamed of doing when we first walked in the room.
I hold her wrists above her head and kiss her and she keens underneath me, that one leg again coming up to snake around my thigh and urge me into her.
Who the hell was I kidding? Things can never just be PG between us.
I lift the bottom of her sweater and whip it off over her head.
Exposing her perfect, beautiful body and nipples so hard I have to have them in my mouth this fucking second.
I suckle her left nipple into my mouth even as my hand traces the same curves I caressed earlier. Down her hip to her outer thigh, but this time I massage around to her ass.