I Want You Back (Want You #1)(37)

“Do you live around here?”

“Nope.”

“This is another ‘community’ option you just happened to know about?”

“Nothing but the best for you, baby.” I stopped at the rack just inside the equipment room. “Grab two of those poles off the wall and I’ll get the discs.”

She blinked at me. “What poles?”

“The long ones with the pronged ends.” I picked up the bins with the discs and carried them out to the courts.

Lucy followed behind me, and I heard her snort when she saw the elongated triangle that indicated what game I’d chosen.

“Shuffleboard?”

“Deck shuffleboard, actually. Regular shuffleboard is played on a tabletop with your hands. This one uses sticks called poles.” I faced her. “Have you ever played?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Right. Okay. I’ll explain the rules.” After I finished, I said, “Any questions?”

“Are you a PE teacher?”

It appeared we were back to her trying to guess my occupation. “No.”

“Are you an activities director for a senior citizens’ home?”

What the fuck? “God no.”

“Then how do you know—”

“Quit stalling. Time to play. You’re yellow; you go first.”

She put the disc down and lined the pole up. She went to push the disc but didn’t maintain her grip on the pole and it went flying across the playing surface, while the disc didn’t move at all.

For christsake, man . . . Do. Not. Laugh.

Then she turned and glared at me.

“You’ll get it this time,” I encouraged her.

Lucy managed to move all four of her discs. Two were completely out of play since they weren’t even on the board. The other two were easy for me to knock out of play when my turn came.

At the end of the first round the score was Lucy zero; Jax . . . thirty.

It was tempting to throw the game, but I was too damn competitive. Plus, it would piss her off more if she suspected I’d let her win. So I did the same thing with the discs as I did with a puck: put it exactly where I wanted it.

End of round two, the final score was Lucy minus twenty; Jax . . . seventy-five.

“Yay, you won. Can we go now?”

I laughed. “No. It’s the best three out of five games, not a single game.”

“Then I concede.”

“Huh-uh. This time I’ll help you with your pole handling.”

Her lips curved into a naughty smile. “I’m down with that.”

I directed her into the 10-off zone, and stood behind her, with my left hand on her left hip and my right hand curled around the pole just below hers. “Now put the tip against the disc. Don’t bump it; push it. Straighten your wrist and keep a firm grip on your pole so your hand isn’t sliding up and down like this.” As soon as my hand enclosed hers and I demonstrated that sliding motion, her breath caught.

She wiggled her ass against my groin and said, “So I’m not supposed to use the pole like this?” She moved her hand up and down the pole in long, sensuous strokes, as if she had her fist wrapped around my pole.

Instant erection.

“Then I don’t suppose I’m supposed to do this either?” she practically purred as she turned her wrist and slid her hand over the pole in short, fast bursts.

Yeah, baby, that’s how I like it.

“I’d think it wouldn’t matter how you held on to this thicker part of the shaft, because whether it’s long and slow, or short and fast . . . it gets the job done,” she cooed in a sultry tone.

“Lucy,” I gritted out, “you’re not supposed to move your hand up and down the pole at all. It’s supposed to stay in one place.”

“Oh. My bad.” Then she squeezed her fist around the pole and released. Squeezed and released, perfectly aware that my hand was still on top of hers, so it felt like—

“Are we going to shoot this off? Or do I need more help on my pole-handling technique?”

I slid my fingers around her hip and spread my hand across her pelvis, pulling her ass more tightly against my crotch as I nosed aside her hair to reach her ear. “You’ve got exquisite technique, dirty girl, making my damn dick hard when we’re playing shuffleboard.”

She turned her head and captured my lips, kissing me with heat, teasing me with sugar bites and small flicks of her tongue, rendering me immobile since she controlled the angle of the kiss and I sure as hell didn’t want to break the spell she’d put me under.

“Jax,” she finally murmured.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Will you let me concede now?”

“No. Way.”

A loud harrumph left her mouth, and she jerked on the pole, surprising me and sending the disc caroming across the court.

It landed in the ten-point spot perfectly.

For a brief moment I wondered if I had a ringer on my hands, but then her next shot went as wild as her previous ones.

Even after I beat her all three games, I knew she’d had a good time.

Since she had to work the next morning, we ended the night early, but we lingered by her car in the Perkins parking lot like a pair of infatuated teens who didn’t want to say good-bye.