Mischievous caramel eyes peer over a handful of playing cards. “What do you have?”
I cross my legs, then uncross them, then cross them again. My bare thighs stick against the hard wood of the chair. I wonder if this hand will cost me my tank top.
I spread the cards face-up onto the table. “Three of a kind,” I say.
Gavin raises an eyebrow. “Not bad.”
A relieved breath leaves me. I smile. It’s about damn time. I’ve lost everything other than my panties and top in this game.
He tosses his cards down. “Beats my pair.”
I squeal and pump my fist in the air.
“Don’t get too excited,” he tuts. “From what I can see, you’ve only got a couple of items left on you. It’s still anyone’s game.”
He’s right. This night of strip poker has tested many things for us. My ability to learn a new card game. Gavin’s ability to tell if I’m lying or not by simply looking at my face. Our abilities to restrain ourselves while half-naked, just inches away from one another.
This past hour is the longest we’ve ever refrained from touching each other when this close.
I shrug. “True. But right now it’s my game, my win, and I want your shirt.”
His crooked smile–my favorite smile–makes an overdue appearance. He tilts his head to me and stands up. “As you wish.”
The gray cotton t-shirt drops to the floor. He stays standing for an extra few seconds. He knows this is my favorite state of undress. Him in nothing but boxers, his sculpted torso on display. My eyes fall to his chest first, then his arms. An impressive amount of chiseled muscle rests under that honey skin. I lick my lips, suddenly unconcerned with who wins or loses. All I really want is his body on top of mine.
“Control yourself,” he advises with a mock frown. “We’ve got a game to finish.”
The next hand goes to him.
“Your top,” he says with a slight growl at the end.
My heart thuds at the thought of being topless in front of him. Not because I’m nervous or embarrassed, but because the anticipation is killing me. I wonder just how long we can keep up this charade of a card game before we attack each other with our mouths.
I stand and slide the thin white cotton over my head. It joins the puddle of gray on the floor.
Gavin’s tongue runs along his bottom lip. The faintest pink hue covers his cheeks; his eyes display a familiar haze. My missing tank top has him in a tizzy.
I beam him my most seductive closed-mouth smile. “I’ll deal this round.”
My breasts skim the polished tabletop as I reach for the cards. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s gawking.
Before I can lean back into my chair, Gavin’s hand covers mine, pinning it to the table.
“Wait,” he whispers.
When I gaze into his unblinking eyes, I know I have him.
“Screw this,” he says.
With a single slide of his forearm, the cards fly off the table and onto the floor. In an instant he’s at my side. With both hands encircling my waist, he sets me on top of the table. We’re kissing before I can utter a word. Our tongues resume the filthy rhythm we employ whenever we kiss.
He leans forward, arms caging me, pressing me down flat.
“But who won?” I say with a desperate gasp. His silky lips glide along the side of my neck and down my chest. He gives attention to both my breasts, encircling my nipples with his tongue until I’m crying out.
A trail of wet kisses along my stomach leads to my panties. He hooks both his thumbs over the sides and pulls them off.
I know the answer. I just want to hear him say it.
He smirks. “You did. You got me to fold without even dealing the cards.”
His mouth falls to the inside of my left thigh. He presses a single soft kiss to my skin, then repeats the move on my other thigh.
Air pushes out of my lungs in a shaky exhale. I close my eyes, my head rolling to the side. I’ve never come on a dining table before. I bite back the grin crawling across my face.
The steam of his exhale on my skin sends a shiver through me.
“Now lie back and relax like a good girl.”