This Man Confessed(121)
“Got it.”
“Good. With a total of sixteen, you should twist, which means I deal you another card. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He pushes another card toward me, and I pick it up stealthily, like he doesn’t already know what I’m holding in my hand. “What have you got?” he asks.
“A king.” I’m not a card genius, but I know that makes me bust. I throw my cards on the floor. “I didn’t want to twist.”
“You can’t stick on sixteen, Ava.”
“But at least I wouldn’t be bust!”
“No, but it’s likely I’ll beat sixteen, so you may as well risk it.” He turns his own cards over, revealing a jack and a queen.
“Twenty,” I confirm quickly.
“Correct. And I’ll stick, so I win.” He gathers the cards back up and starts shuffling them again. “Get it?”
“Oh, I’m gonna whoop your arse, Ward.” I rub my hands together and make myself comfortable.
He smiles at my competitiveness, probably thinking that I’m deluded. After all, Jesse Ward is amazing at everything. “We need to talk about stakes, baby.”
“I’m not hungry, thank you. You’ve fed me enough today.”
His head falls back again as he laughs really hard. I’m trying to keep a serious face, but I so love him when he laughs. “I mean what we’re playing for.” His green eyes land on me. “God, I fucking love you.”
“I know. What are we playing for?” I’m liking this game more and more.
“How many items of clothing do you have on?” His eyes run the full length of my body, as if he’s mentally working it out.
Playing cards doesn’t seem so bad now. “Three. Dress, bra, and knickers.”
“I have two.” He pulls at his T-shirt and his shorts.
“What about your boxers?”
“Obstruction,” he flips casually, dealing us two cards each. I absolutely know where this is going. No obstructions. “The first one naked loses.” He grins at me. “The winner takes the power. I’m being reasonable.”
I gasp and snatch my cards up carefully, holding them close to my face. He’s as confident as ever, giving me an extra item of clothing. “There is nothing reasonable about bargaining for the power in our relationship.” I glance down at my cards, seeing two sevens. “I’ll twist.”
He slides a card over to me, maintaining his grin. “There you go.”
“Thank you,” I reply politely, pulling my card from the floor and placing it with my others. It’s an eight. I dramatically huff and toss them between us. “Bust,” I grumble.
He smiles and turns his own cards over, revealing a jack and a nine. “I think I’ll stick,” he muses. “You lose.”
I shake my head as I watch him put the cards down and slowly crawl over to me, his eyes burning into mine with rapt intention. My heartbeat is quickening at the sight of his prowling frame, and when he’s up close, he slowly raises his hands to the back of my neck. “Let’s lose the dress,” he whispers, pulling the straps free of the knot. “Up you get.”
I force myself to stand when all I want to do is collapse onto my back and let him take me right now. He can keep the power. I don’t want it. Ever. I watch with lust-filled eyes as he grasps the hem of my dress and lifts it up over my head, standing as he rises and chucking it onto the couch when it’s separated from my body.
Leaning into my ear, he bites my lobe. “Lace,” he murmurs, blowing a soft stream of hot air onto my skin. I tense, despite my best efforts not to, and just like that, he leaves me standing like a built-up bag of desire and resumes position on his arse. “Sit.”
I close my eyes and collect my senses. I need to be strong because this really is a game to him. I sit back down in my lace and like the complete temptress I am, I spread my legs wide and lean back on my hands. “Deal again, Lord.”
The knowing smile that creeps across his handsome face indicates his awareness. His temptress is living up to her reputation. He deals the cards. I cautiously look, and then immediately declare my intention to stick. He nods thoughtfully and turns his own cards over. He has a nine and a queen. “Stick.” He looks at me, and I grin, chucking my two kings down cockily before making my way over on my hands and knees.
I straddle his thighs and take the hem of his T-shirt. “Lose the T-shirt,” I whisper, pulling it up. He lifts his arms willingly, and I throw it behind him, sighing and leaning in to kiss his chest. “Hmmm, hard.” I grind myself into his lap wickedly, instigating a sharp intake of breath from him, but then I remove myself from his lap and resume my position across the rug. “Deal.”