“I’m out as well. Good night.” Tony stands from the table and waves. “You two lovebirds have fun.”
Jude doesn’t correct him about our relationship. I kind of like that the most. When the front door shuts with a resounding thud, he lifts his brow. “You quitting on me too?”
Quitting? Hardly.I never thought of cards as foreplay, but they should be. All night I’ve watched Jude’s mouth. His smile. The way his tongue darts out to lick his lips when he’s concentrating. His thumb as it steadily strokes his beer bottle before he lifts it to his mouth. Fuck me. My cheeks heat thinking about it. I haven’t for one second forgotten our almost kiss outside his door. Now that everyone’s gone, there’s nothing holding us back. Except maybe a bundle of nerves. “I thought we were just getting started.”
Jude nods, his smile playful. “Let’s make this interesting.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Strip.”
“Excuse me?” My eyebrows shoot up with offense, but inside a thrill races through my body at his command. He’s bossy. Likes being in charge. I’ve no doubt he’ll be that way in the bedroom too.
“Strip poker. What do you say? Or are you worried you’ll lose?”
I know what he’s doing, and yet my blood boils a little at his dare. Me, back down from a challenge? Who the hell does he think I am? I shove the deck of cards across the table. Right into his hands. “Deal.”
The pleased-as-pie smirk that spreads across his lips should fill me with concern, but instead I’m entranced by his beauty. Yeah, if a man can be considered truly beautiful, it’s Jude Lawrence. I am quickly growing addicted.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?”
My gaze snaps to his. I meet his stare and raise my brows. His question is loaded with implication beyond a simple card game. “Never.” Maybe I should guard my heart better, but I’m all in. Because this right here will change everything. Seeing Jude Lawrence naked isn’t something I can ignore. There are stronger women, I’m sure, but after the week we’ve had together and this tension binding us together, coiling with pressure every second we spend alone, it’s bound to snap. Even though I know what comes after—that sleeping with Jude will eventually bring nothing but heartache—I can’t help but salivate at the idea.
Am I really doing this? Am I getting naked with Jude Lawrence? The soft swish of the cards as he shuffles them in his capable hands compounds the anticipation. Yeah. Maybe this will be my downfall, but I don’t back down from a challenge, and I’m ready to call this man’s bluff.
32
Jude
This isn’t how I saw this going.
“Cold?” Her brow lifts as she awaits my next move.
“Hustler,” I mutter under my breath. If my friends could see me now, they’d laugh. I’m sitting in only my boxer briefs, with another losing hand, and I’d find it funny too, if it wasn’t me in the hot seat.
“What’s that?” Rachel leans closer and it takes all my willpower to not drop my gaze to the valley between her breasts. The deep V neckline of her blouse is almost enough to distract me from my losing streak. She picks up a few of her chips and drops them back into her pile. “I can’t hear you over all my winnings.”
“You.” My gaze narrows, but my lips pull wide with a smile. “You little hustler.”
She leans back into her chair, a satisfied smirk in place as she crosses her legs. “I don’t know what you’re implying. I won these rounds fair and square.”
She did. I can’t figure it out. It’s as if she made a deal with the devil. It’s the only explanation I can come up with. Why else would I be down to my underwear while she’s only lost a shoe. Fuck, I’ve lost my game. The universe has never done me so wrong. Strip poker is always good for at least a glimpse of a bra. Nip slip. Something. Instead, I adjust myself and resist the urge to shiver, because fuck, why do I run my AC so low?
“You wanna quit?” Rachel hums from her side of the table. “I’d understand. It’s okay; we all lose sometimes.”
I am not a quitter or a loser. “One more round.”
“You really want me to see your dick that badly?” She means it as a joke. She’s only poking fun at my run of bad luck. But she has no clue exactly how accurate she is. I want her to see me, all of me. In fact, it’s all I’ve been dreaming of. But not like this. In my fantasies, she’s also naked. Her hands on me. That mouth too. Fuck . . . now, instead of worrying about shrinkage, I have the opposite problem. I hope she’s not offended if my dick pops out to greet her at her next win.
I shuffle the cards one last time, cut the deck, and deal.
She picks up her cards, holding them in front of her face so I can’t see the grin on those full lips. Instead, I focus on her eyes. They’re playful. Bright in spite of the late hour. Lit with desire, and looking directly at me. “Don’t try to sneak a glimpse at my cards.” Her threat is full of mirth. She discards one card and I deal her another.
But her cards are the last thing in this room I want a peek of. Placing my hand on the table—a pair of three’s, which is not all that great—I let loose a sigh. I hate losing, but there’s something thrilling in the anticipation of Rachel’s reaction when I drop my boxers. I discard and pick up three more cards, setting them face down without looking. “Call.”
“You’re not even gonna look first?”
I pick up my beer bottle to take a long pull. “I like risks.”
