Romeo (Dark Knights MC/Blood Fury MC: Crossover)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

It seemed as if Romeo wanted a repeat of what happened all those years ago in his rented RV. However, she wasn’t sure why. He had no reason to chase her since he had plenty of available and willing women at his fingertips.

Why did men always go after what they couldn’t or shouldn’t have? Was it the challenge? Or their ego?

With Romeo, it could be both.

Maddie watched him set the balls perfectly and slide the full rack into place before lifting the wooden triangle.

Her heart skipped a beat when he stepped back from the table and gave her a cocky grin. The man knew he was hot and handsome. The problem was, he was also a handful.

He might want a challenge, but she didn’t. And dealing with Romeo would be one.

Even for only one night.

She knew if she simply made the suggestion to go back to her place—or his—he would jump on it.

She wasn’t stupid. The DKMC president didn’t hang out at The Iron Horse Roadhouse. His club owned Dirty Dick’s. Obviously, he was only here for one reason, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Her.

Why?

He tipped his head toward the table. “You take the first shot.”

Of course, since he racked, she got to break. Zeke had been helping improve her game, but that wasn’t why she occasionally hung out at The Iron Horse or with the DAMC president’s son.

Despite Zeke being a few years younger than her, she liked him. Not romantically or even sexually, but as a friend. He also tended to be protective of her if any man in the bar stepped over the line.

But then, so would Coop, Hawk or any of the Angels, including the prospects, working at, or hanging around in the bar. They all knew who she was. They all respected the Fury and in turn, for the most part, respected her.

If she really wanted to, she was welcome to drink at their private bar in their clubhouse, conveniently attached at the rear of The Iron Horse. However, doing so would make her feel like she was intruding. Plus, some of the club’s sweet butts didn’t like her in their territory. They looked at her as competition.

They shouldn’t. She had no desire to date, or even mess with, anyone in the DAMC. Just like she had no desire to date or mess with anyone in the Fury or the Knights, either.

If she was going to date anyone, she’d find a nice, boring, regular guy. Not one with a deeply possessive “touch her and you die” vibes, where almost everything was seen as a damn threat.

A grumbly, “Maddie,” had her shaking her wandering thoughts free and getting a better grip on her cue stick. “Know how to break?”

She nodded and approached the table. “Yes, but don’t expect it to be anything spectacular.”

One side of his mouth pulled up. “I can help.”

Funny how he didn’t even ask her if she wanted to play this next game with him. He simply assumed.

Since he came to The Iron Horse specifically for her, she’d be kind enough to play one game with him. Maybe during that time, she could make him realize that she had no desire to be anything with him other than acquaintances. At best, maybe friends.

And that didn’t mean friends with benefits.

She specifically picked him five years ago because it was well known he was a player. She assumed—maybe wrongly—that meant he had the experience to know what to do, to do it right and after that night, move on to his next conquest.

That was what was supposed to happen.

Clearly, tonight was proving that it didn’t.

Did he only see her as an easy mark? An opportunity for a quickie?

Even if he did, it still made no sense. He had plenty of women at his disposal he didn’t have to work hard at getting into his bed.

Had there been a spark between them all those years ago? Of course. Add on the fact that Romeo was slick. He knew how to flirt like a pro. He was skilled at making a woman feel special, even if in his eyes, he didn’t believe it was true.

Women were the target, and he was the damn arrow.

Since he hit Maddie’s bullseye last time, maybe tonight he was ready to take another shot.

And not only in the game of pool.

She moved to the end of the table and eyed the neatly set pool balls and for some reason became nervous. She had to remind herself that this was a game, not a life-or-death situation. Should she really care if she messed up the break shot? This was supposed to be a fun, casual game and not a serious competition, right?

Nothing was riding on this game. Yet… But she expected him to change that.

“Before you take that shot, wanna make a bet?”

Just as she thought. “I think I have about five bucks on me,” she answered.

“Ain’t about money.”

Of course, it wasn’t. She played along. “What’s it about? You certainly aren’t here to witness my lack of billiard skills.”

“I win, you come to my place afterward. You win, I go to yours.”

She straightened and frowned. That bet was even worse than she expected. But of course, no surprise. “How is that even a bet? I’m the reward in both situations.”

“Ever think I’m the fuckin’ reward?”

She turned her face enough to make sure he could clearly see her eyes roll. Hard. “You benefit whether you win or lose.”

“So do you.” He pursed his lips as he considered her. “Willin’ to help you win.”

Mmm hmm. “Can you please explain how I’d be winning?”

“Get to spend time with me and everythin’ that goes along with that.”

She shook her head. “Man, Rome, you’re really full of yourself.”

“Can fill you up, too.”

She groaned. “Seriously?” Did women normally fall for that type of talk? She guessed she had in the past but then, at the time, she was only twenty-two. She was a lot more experienced now.

He laughed. “Yeah.”

“If a bet is required, I don’t want to play. Find another sucker.”

As she began to step away from the table, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Just fuckin’ with you.”

Sure he was.

“We don’t gotta bet. Take the shot.”

They stared at each other for a little too long. Neither wanting to be the first to break eye contact.

Finally, Romeo murmured, “Take your shot, Maddie.”

A shiver shimmied down her spine.

Why the hell did he affect her so much and, worse, with a simple statement?

“Just for fun,” she confirmed.

“Always for fun.”

After she got into position and was concentrating on where to hit the cue ball to make sure her shot wasn’t a complete dud, his heat wrapped around her seconds before his big body did.

She wasn’t very petite, but Romeo was much thicker and taller than her. When he placed his hands over hers, the contrast of their size difference and skin tone was startling. Her much smaller hands, her unmarked skin versus his tattooed arms, the rich darkness of his skin over her own pale coloring…

It did make her aware that she needed to get out in the sun a bit so she wasn’t the same shade as a damn corpse. But to do that, she needed to not work so many hours.

Once again, that brought her back to her cheapskate boss and how understaffed they were at work. And the whole reason why she had come to The Iron Horse tonight .

To forget her problems. Or one problem in particular.

“Why so tense?” He seemed a bit offended.

She explained it away with, “Long day.”

Luckily, he accepted that and didn’t push. “Anytime you need pointers on pool, come to Dick’s. I can teach you how to handle balls better than that kid. He’s still wet behind the ears,” he murmured in her ear.

Another shiver slipped down her spine and caused goosebumps to break out all over her.

With his chest pressed to her back and his crotch to her ass, he caged her in by placing his hands on top of hers, all in the guise of helping to guide her shot.

“He’s just a friend.” Damn , why did she sound so out of breath?

Why the hell did he affect her like this? Was it because it brought back the memories of their one and only night together?

Was it she who wanted the repeat?

No. That would be stupid and another mistake since these bikers tended to get possessive if you weren’t a sweet butt or some random. They might not want a relationship, but they didn’t want you wanting anyone else, either. You were only supposed to have eyes for them while their eyes landed on anyone with tits and ass.

Was that fair? Hell no. But this was one reason most MCs considered women as property and not as equals.

As for Romeo, he had a reputation. He didn’t deny it. He owned it.

“He don’t wanna be a friend, Maddie. He ain’t helpin’ you with pool outta the goodness of his fuckin’ heart. He wants somethin’ from you.”

Well, wasn’t that ironic? “You mean, like you do?”

“Just lookin’ out for you. ”

“I’m perfectly capable of knowing who’s a true friend and who… isn’t.” They needed to get this game started because she was beginning to like his embrace a little more than she should. “How about this bet? You win, I come over to your place. I win, I don’t.”

Suddenly, he released her hands and stepped back, giving her some breathing room. He grabbed her chin and turned her head, attempting to read her expression. “Know you’re gonna lose, right?”

She shrugged. “If I do, I do.”

“Then, gonna take that fuckin’ bet.”

She figured he would grab the carrot she dangled in front of him.

He locked his dark eyes with hers. “Just wanna be clear… Comin’ over to my crib don’t mean you comin’ over for a cuppa coffee and some conversation.”

“I’m aware of what it means.” She certainly was.

With a cocky grin, he released her chin and tipped his head toward the table. “Then, break.”

He thought it was going to be an easy win. She’d have to do her best and prove otherwise. “Now you won’t help me in hopes I lose?”

“You’re gonna lose and I can’t fuckin’ wait. Don’t wanna hear any fuckin’ complaints when you do.”

Jesus. The arrogance.

That only bolstered her determination to win.

After lining up her shot, she pulled back the stick, then struck the cue ball with as much force as she had.

The crack of the balls striking each other was even louder than the music. She held her breath while they headed off in different directions. Just like she hoped, one solid colored ball dropped into a side pocket, and another fell into the far corner pocket .

With her eyes wide, she whispered, “Wow.”

“Beginner’s luck,” he muttered.

“I’ll take any luck I can get.” She analyzed the table and where all remaining solid balls stopped.

To win, she had to pocket five more solids before sinking the eight-ball. All without missing a shot. Without scratching. Without launching a ball over the rail. Without accidentally knocking in one of his striped balls.

She glanced over at Romeo. “Are we calling pockets?”

His lips twitched. “No need.”

Oh yes , he was so damn arrogant.

She shrugged and studied the table again with her bottom lip gripped tightly between her teeth.

“Just take your time,” he encouraged.

But she heard it in his voice. He didn’t believe she’d make the next shot.

It was highly possible that she might not.

She purposely picked a super easy shot any beginner would be a fool not to take and…

Dropped the ball into the other corner pocket.

“Too fuckin’ easy. Try somethin’ harder. Let’s see how gooduva teacher LZ is.”

She ignored him as she circled the table searching and concentrating. Zeke had taught her how to do bank shots, but the stakes were too high with this game to risk taking one. Instead, she found another sure shot and quickly took it. The number six ball fell right into the side pocket.

She heard a noise from where he stood, but didn’t spare him a glance. She continued to search for the next shot and took it, sinking that ball, too.

She wanted to gloat but tried desperately to hide her satisfaction in how far her skills had come .

She only had one solid ball left before she had to sink the eight ball. The ball needed to win both the game and the bet.

Her heart was now pounding. In her chest, in her ears and also in her throat.

Focus.

She steadied her hands and ignored everything around her, including the big burly biker standing nearby, waiting for her to screw up.

Maddie needed to stay out of her own head, concentrate and look at the next shot logically. Size, age, gender had nothing to do with how well a player did. It all relied on physics by using momentum, impulse, and kinetic energy.

She broke down the next shot in her head first, then put her plan in motion, successfully sinking the three ball.

She managed to swallow her excited squeal. This wasn’t the time to celebrate. The next ball was the most important of all.

Everything rode on the solid black eight ball.

All she had to do was get it into a pocket without scratching or knocking in one of his striped balls instead.

Not an easy feat with all seven of Romeo’s balls still on the table.

She used the tip of her cue stick to tap the side pocket. Now she only needed to make the shot.

She picked a spot on the cue ball, lined up her stick, pushed all the breath from her lungs to try to slow her racing heart…

Then went for it.