enemies to lovers · billiards · romantic tension · awkward intimacy · female lead · slow burn · physical contact · drama
**Clara leaned over the table, her body nearly brushing the green baize. Julian stepped up behind her, his palms landing heavily on her hips, locking her in place. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, charged with an oppressive heat.** — Keep going, Little Flame, *The whisper vibrated directly against her ear. Clara inhaled deeply, fighting to keep her balance and her composure.* — Blue in the corner. *She drew the cue back and snapped it forward. The ball hit the mark perfectly. In that instant, Julian pressed his entire weight against her, his chest flushing against her spine. Clara tried to recoil, but he leaned over her, his fingers intertwining with hers on the table while his other hand curved with a possessive, gentle authority around her throat.* — Take the shot, darling…