Jagger.
A thrill of fear shot through her blood. Pulse racing, she focused on the table, trying to ignore the thud of footsteps, the hushed murmur of an intimidated crowd, and the soft creak of riding leathers. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her cue and slid it into position between her first two knuckles.
His steps didn’t hesitate when he reached the table, and even though she had only to lift her head to meet his gaze, Arianne kept her focus on the ball. This game was too important for distractions. And Jagger was the biggest distraction of all.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of leather and the glitter of the chain that hung off his belt. Her body trembled as he neared her, so hot, sweat beaded on her brow.
And then his hand was on her ass.
Broad and warm, his palm cupped her right cheek, fingers splayed over the sensitive crease between her thigh and buttock, thumb brushing over the rise. No words. No greeting. No permission.
See your blood price. Grab her ass. Send her a message she’ll never forget.
Utterly primitive, wholly possessive, his touch awakened something deep inside her, sweeping away civilized notions of self-respect and independence and awakening a deep primal desire to submit to his unspoken demand.
But when he squeezed her ass, punctuating the possessive move with a satisfied grunt, desire gave way to being really pissed off. Clearly his fancy speech about respecting women was baloney.
Steeling herself to control her shaking hands, she looked back over her shoulder and glared. “Why don’t you just stamp ‘Keep Off’ on my ass? Save yourself some time.”
His gaze met hers, hot, sensual, and unyielding, sparking a firestorm in her blood so intense, she thought she might combust.
“I just did.” He smoothed his hand over the curve of her buttock, his fingers perilously close to the seam. “If anyone is unclear about my meaning, I’ll kill them.”
“Caveman.” She muttered the word under her breath, never thinking he would hear.
Jagger’s hand tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, a pleasure pain that made her mouth water.
“I walked in here, and every man in front of you was looking down your shirt and every man behind you was staring at your ass.” He smoothed his hand over her buttock, rubbing away the pain. “It took every bit of my self-control not to pound all their fucking heads in because I knew what they were thinking.”
“What were they thinking?”
He slid one hand around her waist, pulling her up and against his rock-hard chest, the bulge in his jeans pressed firmly against her rear. “They wanna be the one with their hand on your ass, telling you ‘later’ has come and it’s time to go.”
Sweat trickled between her breasts and her mouth went dry, but as menacing as he was, the fate she might suffer at his hands couldn’t compare to what faced her if she lost the match. “I’m in the middle of a game. I’m up three to two in a best of three.”
“It’s over.”
Damnit to hell. With his men watching and the civilians shooting surreptitious glances their way, she couldn’t tell him to back off and let her finish the game. He’d likely just throw her over his shoulder and storm out the door, and any hope of inveigling him in the future would be lost. No, this called for a subtler approach.
She wiggled free, then leaned over and took her shot, just scraping the outer edge of the ball, making it spin and then curve into the side pocket. A trick shot. Risky, but she needed to make a point.
Jagger grunted. “Impressive.”
“I have five grand riding on this game.” She kept her voice low. “I’m here for business, not pleasure.”
Jagger twisted his hand through her hair, tugging her head back until she was looking up at him over her shoulder. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips over her ear. “I don’t think you understand what it means to be mine.”
She nuzzled her nose against the deliciously rough bristles of his cheek, inhaling his scent of leather and musky male, hoping to distract him. “And I don’t think you understand who you think you’ve claimed.”
He growled, a low, possessive, entirely thrilling sound. “Don’t push me, sweetheart. This is as far as I go.”
Her heart pounded in time to ZZ Top’s “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide now playing through the speakers.” Over in the corner, she spotted Peter waving his pool cue and gesturing at her while T-Rex and Wheels held him back.
“I have only two balls left and then a quick meet with Bunny and I’m free to go. I get where you’re coming from, but this is important to me. I need to finish playing, and I need to win.”