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Her eyes followed him with a sly tilt, beginning her own version of 'playing the game of pool.' Jo chose her stick and began to chalk it up, hips subtly to the side (female slacks did wonders in how they clung), tank top tugged comfortably in place. If Cas thought for one second she was above using female wiles to win this game, he was going to have an extremely rude awakening.

Once the triangle was removed, she put the blue chalk aside and leaned over the table with a curve of her back that had to be on purpose, one hand splayed on the green and used as a steadier for the shot. "What, not going to offer to show me how it's done? Missed opportunities, there." She cast a brief smile before she struck the cue ball, the loud clack of the balls scattering punctuating her words.

The 4 ball smacked into a corner pocket. "Solids. And if you take anything easy on me, I'm going to be extremely disappointed." Another sly glance was shared before she took a look over what was in play and, with the stripes blocking most of her options, she opted to hit the cue ball away from them and closer to the 8.

Jo subtly covered her mouth to stem another laugh at his choice of words, leaning on her cue and shaking her head to herself. "Can't say I haven't been warned." The amusement still lit her green eyes, watching him play and feeling a small bit of satisfaction that he seemed to be good to his word. If she'd been keeping count of kudos, he'd have surely passed with flying colors by now.

She offered a soft 'hmph!' sound as she passed by him, looking over the table and letting her eyes wander as they often would, piecing together how she wanted the next play to go, taking a n** from Cas' beer while she did so. Rolling her shoulders, she leaned over the table, head low and to the side, eyes critical. With a flicker of a smile, she hit the 15 ball into the 7, which clacked against the 1 and sent both the solids into opposite holes.

Leaning with her hips twisted as a counter balance, she hit another stripe to bounce her 5 closer to a center hole, making it prime to go in if anything else got too close to it. "I don't believe in oops," she stood upright, clearly entertained. "Where'd you learn to play? You may actually give me a challenge here." Jo allowed a grin to linger, leaning near the corner of the table.

"Nice," she intoned at his clean shot, moving into position once it was her turn again. "So you're the guy who wont settle for less than being the best, no matter what's at stake?" Jo's green eyes turned around the positions of the remaining solids and struck the trio, sending them all bouncing but having one hit the 6 in.

Readjusting, she added, "I hustled, sharked when I had to. I also understand force and momentum, given my hobby, so I might have conned you a little here." The 5 on the edge was knocked in, and she winked over the green felt. "Don't let me talk you into darts with a wager, as a friendly warning."

Jo drew in her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled gently, considering, before settling on hitting one of the stripes up against the wall between her two remaining solids, a return gesture.

That gave her a solid moment of pause, surprise clear in her gaze. His answer was a lot more candid than Jo was expecting, but shed light on his ways and how he'd gotten to where he was. She couldn't pretend to piece together how he fit in with a guy like Rylan, but that was a story for another day. "You were the guy who was told 'no you can't' and did it to rally otherwise? Maybe you should be warning me against challenges." She smiled to let the words be softer, even if teasing, because she had a similar mindset herself. A woman hustling and restoring old bikes? Yeah, she had her fair share of '******** you' moments.

She watched him weigh the pros and cons of addressing the pocket she'd made, thoroughly enjoying being able to witness his process. "I'm rather impressed by the likes of you," she chuckled, sauntering around the table for her turn. As far as she was concerned, it was over, and she'd won.

"Well. We both know what it means to strive to be the best, even if your story is more impressive than hustling in Little Havana." The 2 ball was struck, the easiest one to pocket. "Unfortunately, three balls left, it's...." The striped ball was hit at just the right angle, bouncing it against the wall to hit the 3, which ran smoothly along said wall to the pocket. She made an apologetic sound that clearly wasn't authentic. "It's game by then," she sat neatly against the table, the stick behind her back, aiming at the last ball with obvious showmanship, "too much open table," Jo knocked the 8 ball, not from the easiest spot, but to the furthest, looking over to him as it landed home, "and I'm too interested in the wager to throw the game at this point."

The blonde set the stick over her lap. "You almost had me, and you could have, I believe that." Jo let the innuendo go. "Can't complain here, either."

"Charm is one word for it." She watched him as he approached, not moving save to put the stick out of the way next to his discarded one. "It's a good thing you realized it. It's important to put up the two finger salute and let the world know it is yours for the taking."

Of course, Cas wouldn't let it slide. Her eyes were bright, clearly entertained by the entire exchange. "You're the one who knows how to assert his dominance, and I'm not one to retract an invitation." Jo couldn't stop the old habit of discretely covering her smile with her knuckles before putting her hands on the side of the table and leaning subtly. "But if it's what you need to hear, then yes. You're coming home with me tonight, Cas."

Crossing her ankles, she tilted her head back as if to ponder their schedule. "Now that I've given out my secret, I can't challenge you again. Do you dance? I know I suggested it but I have to admit, dancing in bars for the sake of dancing might be new to me."

"Mmm," she bit her bottom lip around a grin, tilting her head to the side in the slightest, "Line dancing wont do. We can skip that." Jo settled her knees on either side of his legs, allowing him closer if he wanted. Her own hands shifted from the table to his forearms, humming softly at the feel of his warmth and closeness.

The grin was doing wonders to needle reactions out of her, and lifting her chin, she let a sliver of her own grin remain. "Some other time, I could teach you how to dance. Shake your hips like a pro." Her grin grew, not even certain where the line of teasing and truth was anymore, a soft bit of laughter escaping.

It seemed the game was at an end, then, and Jo could not be more pleased for it, fingers gliding up his arms to his shoulders and lighting there delicately. "Have we spent our hour yet?"

There wasn't much more she enjoyed than a good grin, but hearing a man (or woman) who had plenty to say being reduced to a few words was up there. Her fingers lifted to thread through the short sides of his hair, back bowed so she was closer, and damnit, Jo could not seem to kick the grin that returned his short words.

And he gave himself away as a kisser, and she may as well have won the lottery. With a delighted sound, she returned the kiss with a faint measure of control that unraveled with each passing second, arms twined around his shoulders and fingers curled up against the back of his neck and hair.

"Ah," she drew in a breath when it ended, sounding unfocused and a slow smile settling as her tongue chased over her lips. Remaining close against him, fit quite comfortably, one arm disentangled to trace her thumb lightly closer to his lips. "Home?" Her voice was honey and warmth, the hunger of what could continue heavy in her gaze.

Jo moved with him when he backed up, sliding down to her feet and making sure her knees weren't too weak after that delightful show. Clearing her throat, she moved up next to Cas and took his hand with hers, as if she wasn't going to even give him the option to find the man that had all but set this up. He would damn well know.

"For an hour," she replied with a smile over her shoulder, leaving the bar behind.