Read Online His Kind of Perfect (Sugar Bay #1) by Kinsley Gibb - Free Book Online Page A

He ought to have known better than to presume she wasn’t capable.
    “I win, you donate an item for the charity
auction. You win, you name your forfeit.”
    His eyes lit up and his smile turned
downright smug. He seemed to think it was a sure win and she turned away before
she laughed out loud.
    “Anything I want, right? A kiss?”
    She turned back and met his eyes. “Even a
kiss…if you want.”
    “Oh, I want.” With a carnal look in his
eyes, he towered over her, braced for battle. He looked intense, all dark and
sexy, channeling his “A” game that she was almost sorry she was going to hand
him his ass, because she was.
    She hadn’t lost a game of pool in ages.
    “Deal?”
    She held out her hand and he enfolded her
smaller hands in his.
    “Deal,” he said but didn’t let go
immediately. She felt his work roughened hands and resisted the urge to smooth
his calluses. He had man hands, big and hot, the kind of hands that had never
had a manicure. To this day, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t suspected Gavin was
gay. Who got his and her manicures? Derek’s hands were polar opposite of
Gavin’s and she liked them.
    He looked into her eyes as if trying to
figure out her angle. She didn’t have one. She liked to win and wanted to beat
him.
    Anabelle walked the table perimeter, judged
the distance and angle of the next shot, moved into position and sank her
target.
    Derek hissed and she slid her gaze towards
his.
    “I think I’m being hustled.”
    “I never said I couldn’t play.”
    A heavy silence descended between them
before he narrowed eyes at her. “No. You didn’t, did you?”
    “By the way, I don’t need the three game
handicap.”
    “No, you don’t.”
    While he studied her, she rounded the table
and assessed the next shot. She aimed, drew back and powered through, neatly
sinking the blue striped ball in a side pocket.
    “Never assume.” She stood and blew the
chalk from the tip like a gunslinger at high noon.
    With a wicked smile, he stalked her around
the table. “Winner takes all.”
    “Okay, but no crying when you lose.”
    “I’ll try not to.” He smile was fierce,
almost feral smile. The kind of smile that would have made her run if not for
the strange adrenaline that pulsed through her. She took a swig of her Corona.
    “I haven’t lost in years. You don’t have a
chance.” Poking the tiger was fun.
    “You sure about that? I’ve got plans for
you so I’m more motivated.” He stopped at her side and slid a finger down her
cheek while he stared at her lips. She ignored his provocation and pushed away,
confident in her skills.
    She was going to win.
    She maneuvered into a cut shot position and
he lifted a brow in challenge because it was a difficult shot to make. His gaze
slid down the front of her dress and she squirmed. As she pulled the pool cue
back, she wondered how much she displayed in the little black dress Charlie had
forced upon her. Big mistake because the shot she’d perfected since grade
school bounced off the rail and missed the pocket.
    “Fudge.”
    “Maybe a little less cocky and a little
more focus, huh Anabelle?”
    She growled under her breath, annoyed at
her lapse and stood. A solid wall of man greeted her.
    “My turn,” he drawled and winked. “Brace
your self.”
    He set her aside, moved around the table,
and studied the game like a man on a mission.
    Derek made quick decisions and sank three
solids in a row. With each resounding thud, she felt less certain about the
outcome. The irony had her shaking her head.
    Time for a little
distraction.
    She looked at his upcoming shot and sat on
the edge of the table with her cue between her knees. Derek paused by her side
and she stifled a grin. “You putting up a roadblock?”
    “Maybe.”
    “I see. Guess you’re not above a little cheating?”
    She shrugged. “I think of it as ensuring
your donation to a worthy cause.”
    “Right. It has nothing to do with losing.”
    “Absolutely not. You like a