Brianna said,
interrupting the moment. “Want me to see who it is?”
Ella froze. Damn it. She’d never texted
Frank back earlier, and now the asshole was going to keep texting
her all night until she replied. They both knew she’d be back at
work this weekend—she needed the money. But she had to make it
absolutely certain that he knew it would be on her terms. No way
was she sleeping with that bastard.
“Are you okay?” Brent murmured at her
ear.
“What?” she asked, distracted by his
closeness. The anxiety she felt was instantly replaced by a sense
of calm. Frank wasn’t here. He couldn’t berate her. Couldn’t yell
or demand something she refused to give.
She took a deep breath as her heart rate
returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”
She pulled away from Brent’s tempting
warmth, handing him the cue, and he eyed her questioningly.
“Oh for heaven’s sakes,” Brianna said as
Ella’s phone buzzed again. “Do you have some secret boyfriend I
don’t know about? Someone just texted you five times in the last
few minutes.”
Brent tensed up beside her, and she blew out
a sigh as she walked over to her handbag. She felt the curious
gazes of everyone else and tried her best to remain nonchalant.
“I’m sure it’s just a wrong number or something. Lord knows that if
I had a boyfriend, you’d know about it.”
Brent let out a sound that could only be
described as a growl, and she flicked her gaze to him. His eyes
flashed, but he didn’t say a word.
“Yeah, I figured,” Brianna said with a
shrug. She beamed up at Matthew.
Ella pulled out her phone and, ignoring the
messages from Frank, shut it off. “There—problem solved.” She
tossed it back into her bag, debating whether or not she should
just go ahead and change her number. The problem was, if she was
planning to go back to work there, he’d need to get a hold of her
sometimes. In case of scheduling changes. Or emergencies. So there
went that idea.
Brianna raised her eyebrows, waiting for an
explanation, but Ella simply walked back toward the pool table,
ready to move on. “So, are we gonna shoot some pool or what?”
Chapter 4
Brent watched Ella lean further over the
pool table and effortlessly sink a ball in the corner pocket. The
way the denim curved against her ass was a sight to behold, and
Brent willed himself to look away. Fucking hell. He was supposed to
be teaching her how to shoot pool, not mentally undressing her. Not
standing so close behind her it was practically indecent. But
despite the alarm bells going off in his head, he was itching to
walk over and wrap his hands around her hips again, tugging her
closer. Feeling her soft body in front of him. Her ass snug against
his throbbing cock.
She was so petite compared to him. So
feminine compared to his own masculine frame. Hell, he could
practically scoop her right up in one arm. He had half a mind to
haul her off into the night.
Toss her on the back of his Harley.
Take her again and again in his bed.
Right.
Like that would ever fucking happen.
He turned away from her tempting form and
took a swig of his beer. His pulse pounded, sending adrenaline
coursing through his veins, and he willed his cock to stand down.
Jesus. It wasn’t like him to get all riled up over a woman. They
were a dime a dozen, and he sure as shit had no reason to let her
get to him. If he needed someone to keep his bed warm, there were
plenty of willing, less-complicated partners he could enjoy a night
with.
But they weren’t Ella.
Brushing that thought aside, he watched as
she scanned the remaining balls on the table. She had an intense
look of concentration on her face, but at the moment, she also
seemed pissed off. He hadn’t imagined the way she’d stiffened when
she’d gotten a text earlier. Or seemed defensive when Brianna had
asked about the repeated messages.
Was someone bothering her?
The thought stirred an uneasiness in his
gut, immediately followed by a wave of
Learning to Kill: Stories