Page 27 of Hellfire

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I really wanted to impress him. I missed, and Tank chuckled.

I frowned. “Don’t laugh. I was distracted!”

More like “dick-stracted”.

“Relax,” he laughed again, placing a hand on my shoulder and spinning my back toward the table. “It’s just a game, pretty girl. Let me show you again. Like this,” he said, taking another shot.

“Okay,” I huffed. “I got this.” I bounced on the balls of my feet as I prepared to try again. Tank shook his head, laughing at my antics.

I took the cue and leaned over the table. This time, I went for my own shot. Tank stepped behind me again, his chest pressing lightly against my back as he guided my hands once more.

“Relax your grip a little,” he murmured.

Tanking a deep breath, I aimed. The cue hit the white ball and sailed it into the two-ball. I didn’t make the shot, but I didn’t care. I was having fun.

“Yes!” I cheered, throwing a fist in the air in triumph.

“You’re a natural,” Tank teased, a giant grin on his face.

He looked so handsome at that moment. A blush crept up my cheeks as he leaned an elbow on the table, bringing our faces inches apart.

“Thanks for being patient with me,” I said, tilting my chin up toward him.

“Of course,” he replied, brushing my hair hack from my face and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. “Okay, let me show you how it’s done.”

We reluctantly broke apart, and I rounded the table to the other side. Leaning back against the wall, I watched him call his shots. I wasn’t paying attention to how he was actually lining up his shots.

I wonder how his lips would taste?

“Okay. Are you ready to try again?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I blushed and nodded. Taking a deep breath, I lined up my shot. This time, I hit the ball, and it sank smoothly into the corner pocket. It was a relatively easy shot, but still. A win is a win.

“Yes!” I cheered, turning to face Tank with a satisfied grin. “I did it!”

“Great job, pretty girl,” he said, grinning back at me.

I felt a warm feeling of pride spread through me at his praise.

“You hungry? I bet Sampson wouldn’t mind if we found something to eat.”

“Sure, all I’ve had is coffee.” Tank gave me a disapproving look, but didn’t comment.

Taking my hand, he led me in through the double doors of the kitchen.

My eyes widened. “Tank, we can’t just go back there.” Tank chuckled again. “Stop laughing at me,” I exclaimed.

Tank held up a hand. “The club owns this bar, pretty girl. It’s fine, I promise.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“You didn’t ask. I’m not trying to overwhelm you, okay? But just know you can ask me anything,” he said.

Following him into the spacious kitchen, I found a seat at the small table. Tank headed to the pantry, grabbed a loaf of bread, and tossed it on the counter. Next, he gathered ingredients from the fridge for sandwiches.

“So what happened to your eye?” I asked. I had been wondering since this morning when he came into the bar with Nate.

Tank grinned. “Nate happened,” he said simply.