Devlin's Dare by Sabrina York Read Free Book Online Page B

on account of his blush—visible even from here. Darby, who owned and ran the only bar on the island, was painfully shy and never dated, as far as Devlin could tell.
    I t seemed as though Avery wanted to eat him alive. She probably did.
    “Shall we continue our…game?” Ponytail’s low sultry tones recaptured his attention and he turned back to the table. Her expression pole axed him. “We were playing for peanut butter, I believe.”
    “Yes. We were.” He swallowed. “I, ah, where were we?”
    “It was my shot.” The way she tried to hide her impish grin told him it was not her shot, but he let it go. He hardly cared who won.
    He waved at the table. “Be my guest.”
    She flicked him a thoughtful glance before bending to sight along the cue.
    Devlin stepped back. And enjoyed the view.
    Yeah, he wouldn’t mind draping her over his lap and having those lush globes splayed before him. Preferably bare, but he would work with whatever he got. His fingers curled at the thought of how nice his handprint would look on those rounded globes.
    A minx like this deserved a spanking. Especially after the way she’d teased him. Was still teasing him.
    As though she could read his thoughts, she gave her ass a little waggle as she prepared to shoot.
    Damn.
    Damn, damn.
    Maybe he did want to win. The thought of her ass covered with peanut butter made his knees weak. But if he won, there was no doubt in his mind exactly where that peanut butter would go. She’d be finishing what she started last week. He quickly reviewed the contents of Ash’s pantry, wondering how much peanut butter there was.
    She sank the first ball but missed on the second. “Your turn ,” she grunted.
    “Yeah.” He stepped up to the table and surveyed the layout of the balls. There were a couple cheap shots—he took them—and then one that was a little more challenging. A trill of excitement slashed him as the ball banked off the felt and landed in the pocket with a neat click. One more to go.
    He bent and sighted the ball, and drew back the cue.
    Just as he was about to shoot, she cleared her throat. “Is it me, or is it warm in here?”
    His gaze snapped to her. Not only because her tone was low and sultry. But because a flutter of movement in the vicinity of her breasts—which were always somewhere on his radar—indicated she was unbuttoning her blouse.
    And hell. She was.
    One. Two. Three buttons. Until the cleft of her cleavage was clearly visible. She fanned herself there, much lower than was precisely necessary, and then drew her fingertips slowly along that shadowy crease.
    Devlin’s muscles locked. His pulse set up a manic tattoo that resonated throughout his body—pounded in his cock.
    Shit.
    He affected a nonchalant mien. Clucked his tongue. “Cheaters never prosper, Ponytail.”
    “I’m not cheating.”
    “Aren’t you?”
    “I’m simply making an observation. It is warm in here. Isn’t?”
    Hell yeah it was.
    “You know…I think I’d like peanut butter here,” she murmured in a pouty voice, tracing her cleavage again. She leaned closer. Touched a nipple, clearly outlined against the fabric of her blouse. “Or here. What do you think, Devlin?”
    Think? There was no thinking.
    Without glancing at the table, he took his shot. Satisfaction flared as he heard the telltale thunk as the eight ball found its home.
    “I win.” He hardly needed to say it. Judging from her grunt of dismay, she knew damn well her ploy hadn’t worked. But it felt good to say.
    It also felt good to take her hand and lead her from the bar.
    And even better when she followed without demur.
     
    Ash’s house wasn’t far from town, but on this night, the trek felt like a million miles. They did not speak as they made their way along the beach path. The moon was out and the sky was clear. A thousand pinprick stars glittered in the heavens. A gentle breeze carried the briny scent of the ocean inland. Waves shushed in the distance.
    And her hand. Her