Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (22 page)

“No, it’s not. Here, stand
back up.”

An unsuspecting shudder journeyed through my entire body as I reared
up, and felt his hand pressing between my shoulder blades, gently guiding me back down to the table below. His body was soon joining me, plummeting from his stance until he was hovering over my back. The warmth of his front sliced through my blouse, while his hand glided infinitesimally from my shoulder blades down the length of my spine. I had to work twice as hard to contain a whimper.

“Drop your weight through your hip,” he
sighed, his voice scratchy. My body didn’t stand a chance as his softly spoken brogue sent a current of vibrations through me, causing my body to give birth to a ruthless shudder and my skin to prickle.

I did as I was told, slotting my right foot
behind and effectively, in between his legs, and dropped my weight into my right hip.

Feeling the hardened skin coating his left hand as he aided in supporting the tip of the cue, had me gasping.
“Focus on the balls,” he purred from behind. “Imagine you’re a lioness, Kady, that ball is your prey. You’re getting ready to pounce, understand, darlin’?”

My swallow reflex was resisting thanks to that lump of desire lodged in my throat, a
s his right hand left my spine and came around me to hold my hand as I grasped the cue. “Yes,” I rasped, trying with everything I had to focus on that damn striped ball instead of the weight and heat of the Irishman on my back, my leg between his, his arms around me, shielding me as the scent of smoky garlic and beer caressed and pasted onto my neck and jawline.

“Pull back,” he guided my right
arm back. “Tell me when you’re ready, darlin’.”

I didn’t ever think I would’
ve been ready, but I said it anyway. When my words were freed in a sigh, he muttered the single word, “Softly,” in my ear, and gently guided my right arm through to hit the white, which collided with, and sent my desired ball into the pocket.

“I did it,” I shrieked, straightening my posture.

“’Aye, that you did, darlin’.” He grinned, and then lifted his head to his father who was still arranging glasses behind the bar. “See, Da, told you I’m a good tutor.”

The old man simply grunted
before Walker turned back to me. “You get another shot. Just try not to pocket my solid, okay, darlin’.”

It was
bizarre. I probably should have felt awkward to a certain degree with the Irishman’s choice of words and the way in which they were spoken. But I didn’t. I found myself amused and desired, and I suppose some part of me, at least for tonight, felt like I was able to let my hair down.

Those dimples of his made an A+ appearance before I p
layfully back handing him in the gut. Feigning a wound and bowled over with a grunt, he looked adorable as I rounded him.

“You say I got a dirty mind.”

“Takes one to know one, darlin’. Now, have you chosen your ball?”

Studying
the table intently, I finally nodded pointing to the top left pocket. When I just stood there staring at the sphere like I was going to move it telekinetically, he chuckled. “Want another hand?”

“Please…”

Before I knew it, his heavy, hard body was shielding my back once again. In spite of taking position, I felt out of place, almost off center. As I attempted to get comfortable, I shifted my right leg less than an inch, but that inch was enough to cause my behind to graze along something that really shouldn’t have been in my reach.

A faint gasp
at the connection from behind had my body stiffening and cheeks heating. Damn, what was I saying? My entire body was heating, muscles in my belly fluttered while every hair follicle stood to attention.

I wrenched my h
ead to my left to peek over my shoulder. The side of Walker’s face so close that if I moved an inch closer, my cheek would have been brushed against that prickly scruff coating his jaw. “Shit, sorry.”

Locking our e
yes, he muttered something so direct, that I would never be able to look at a ball the same without that statement resurfacing. I would remember it, and the effect it had on my body, until my dying day. “When I said focus on the balls, Kady,”––his eyes fluttered shut for a split second––“I meant the ones on the table, darlin’.”

Less than an inch away from his face, his body cloaking mine as he folded me over the
felt, my ass unintentionally grinded against him again as I dropped my weight through my hip, anew. Ragged, unsteady breaths grated from my lungs. As my tongue swept across my lips, I felt them trembling.

How can so much be told, secrets and
undisciplined desires, become blatant knowledge in one look? When glassy eyes fluttered down to his lips, I had to shake myself out of it. I’d be lying if I said what I felt at that moment didn’t terrify me. It did. Because one man, one situation, and one measly statement, had me almost abandoning my morals.

Once
I finally dragged my focus back to the game and took my shot, I totally missed sending it bouncing off the cushion. That mishap caused me to spend the next four consecutive shots, studying Walker as he successfully pocketed his solids, and trying so hard not to be distracted by the calculating look in his eye, his tongue resting on his lower lip, and the way he looked as he doubled over.

I was sipping my beer when he finally fucked up on the shot. “
Fuck. You’re up, Kady.”

With a deep breath
I examined what was left of the stripes and solids. I was so going to lose this one. When I comfortably took my position, he asked if I needed any further assistance. Body bent, head down low, I pinned him with my eyes. His smirk and tiny gasp didn’t go unnoticed. “I think I’ll try myself.”

“As you wish,” he muttered composed, a
smirk and a lop-sided nod of his head rendered me speechless, while addictive tingles spawned in my body.

I took everything he’
d taught me in such small time and steadily, I guided my arm through and successfully dropped the ball into the pocket. Complete concentration, I dropped one after another, after another until finally, only the black was left, torturing me with its impossible angle. How the fuck was this going to work? I couldn’t even reach the white to hit it anyway.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he mocked me.

“How the Hell am I supposed to hit that?” I glared at him, pointing to the table. “I can’t reach.”

“As long as one foot is on the floor, you can climb on.”

He had to be fucking kidding me. Accompanied by a dirty minded smirk, I made damn sure my right foot was on the floor, as I lifted my left leg and spread myself out on the felt. “I thought my days of climbing on tables were over with,” I spoke harshly, but had to stifle the small snort which was brewing.

I was shifting and adjusting, but I’d be fucked if I could somehow
manage to find a position that I could use to my advantage. “Need a hand there, darlin’?”

Over my shoulder I peeked, half of my body spread out
in invitation on the table like some playboy centerfold, and I couldn’t help but think that I would feel less conscious knowing he was shielding me, rather than watching the very…provocative pose I had gotten myself in. “Please,” I nodded.

Staying perfectly still, at that moment I felt as though I was about
to be mauled by a bear. I sensed him behind me, standing between the edge of the table and my right leg. When he slithered up and over my body, every muscle from head to toe tensed and quivered inexorably. Every hard muscle of him was digging into me, my back, my behind. Even his burly arms which were concealed by his shirt were pressed against me, guiding me as I supported the cue. I took a deep, pacifying breath, his scent torturing me just as much as the weight, warmth, prominence, and the mere thought of the position we found ourselves in.

“Ready?”

I wish he would’ve stopped asking me that, because every time he did, my unruly mind was tethering the question to my slowly diminishing morals. I couldn’t speak in fear of panting, so I simply succumbed to a nod of my head.

The c
allouses coating his hands were pressed against the soft skin of my knuckles as we pulled back in unison, and by God alive, it was the most thrilling, lust-filled motion that I had ever experienced in my life. I couldn’t concentrate on what we were doing, our goal. My mind was too busy tossing images and tantalizing tidbits out to taunt me, to tempt me.

So I let him guide my arm through as though it was him taking the shot. Somehow
the black fell into the pocket. As it did, all I could do was let my head fall forward, allowing the abrasion of the felt to press against my brow. It was either that, or I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the abrasion of the Irishman’s scruff to caress my cheek.

It was 12:15 a.m. by the time we headed out of McGinty’s. I’d said my farewells to Walker’s father, only for him to order that I call him Carriag, and that I was to come back again soon.

I couldn’t promise
that I would. But I told him I’d at least try.

T
wenty minutes passed in a gawky silence as Walker drove me home. I couldn’t help chancing the odd glimpse in his direction. He looked so in control and defiant with his left hand casually grasping the wheel, while his right fisted into that hair, leaving it sexy and rumpled.

He offered a quick peek in my direction before turning back onto the road, as my left hand worked
its way to the curve of my shoulder and neck, before rubbing at my nape.

I smiled. “Thank you for a fun night. It’s been a long time since I…” I trailed off, my voice getting smaller and smaller while my head lowered for the briefest of moments before peeking back up. “Just, thank you.”

“I suppose this means that I’ll be keeping my job then.”

The corner of my lower lip was nipped after a small giggle
and a long, dreamy sigh. Letting my teeth drag across the plump flesh, I finally spoke. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

When we pulled up outside the house, I noticed the only light which was on, was that of Liam’s home office. He must have still been
settling things on the old Williamson Estate. It felt like the project had been going forever.

“Here,” Walker shifted
causing the leather of the bench to squeal, and dug his hand into the back pocket of his pants. When he handed me a folded piece of paper, my brow instantly furrowed. “Just in case you need anything.”

The
twitching corners of my mouth gave way to a cautious smile as I studied his phone number. “Is this…” I peeked at him, the paper was caressed by my fingertips as though they sought to caress his face. I lost myself in his gaze, a shadow cast over the side of his face adding a little mystery. “Is this a good idea?”

A rumble of a snigger made my breath
hitch, while he hung his head and his right thumb rubbed the center of his upper lip. When he looked up, his expression turned coy. “It’s just a number, Kady. In case you want or need to talk. That’s all. Nothing else.”

I won’t lie.
I felt a small pang in my chest at his instance of ‘nothing else’. And that pang alone should have been enough reason to scrunch up the number and toss it in the trash.

“We all need someone to talk to at some point, darlin’.
Sometimes venting helps diffuse a situation before it gets out of hand.”

His
choice of words had thrown me. I didn’t know what he was referring to, but I wasn’t naïve enough not to know that there was a reference behind them. Slipping the paper into the side zipper of my purse, I said my thanks again for a fun night and ejected myself from the truck, placing a safe distance between me and temptation.

“Hey,” I angled my head around the door of Liam’s home office.

“Good morning,” he grinned, pushing himself back into his seat. Was that a sarcastic statement or a happy one, considering I had done as I was told and was kept out until past this time? I didn’t know, and that unknown bred a menacing shudder which turned my blood to ice. “I take it you were shown a good time?”

“Yeah, we had fun.
Your night doesn’t look so fun though.”

“Ah,” he lifted his arms and let them fall back to the arms of his chair. “It’s been quite interesting actually.”

“You always find interest in the most trifling of things. I’m going to bed. I’d really like for you to join me,” I posed with a suggestive arch of my brow. If there was one thing I needed, it was that dull ache in my lower abdomen to be hit head-on and the sexual, pent-up frustration to be alleviated.

“I’d love to, baby, but I’ve got a lot that I need to get done.
”

I folded my arms over my chest and cocked my head.
“And I can’t draw you away from being master of the Boston skyline for thirty minutes?”

“Sorry, baby. Maybe tomorrow.”
Stunned after his rejection hit me in the face at full force, he went back to his work leaving me to saunter down the hall, to the bedroom…alone and very, very horny.

When I got there and out of my clothing, I slipped myself between the cool satin sheets. Thoughts of the night spiral
ed around my mind, the line between right and wrong blurring as each end of the spectrum was blended together. What started off as a small throb was quickly becoming an unbearable ache as I closed my eyes, the heat and heaviness of a certain someone still bearing upon my back.