Page 22 of Frozen Play

“In the deal.”

“Shit. I dealt that one. I can’t even argue that you cheated.”

I put a hand on my chest. “I don’t cheat!”

“Except for chips? Okay, what do I need to take off?”

I’d have liked to say everything, but it was still chilly in here and we had rules. I wasn’t sure just how far she wanted to push this so I asked for her sweater.

She pulled it off over her head, leaving her hair a mess with a few strands standing up with static electricity. She smoothed it down and shoved the cards over to me.

I took the cards in hand, shuffling them carefully. I didn’t need to stare at how the turtleneck she wore under that pullover molded to her body. Or read anything into the fact that she didn’t wear a padded bra, and her nipples were erect. It was just the cold.

But damn, she had pretty tits. Or pretty-shaped tits.

I gave myself a mental slap and started to deal. Maybe it would be better for me to lose before my libido got out of hand.

I had a handful of kings, queens and a ten. Skye picked up a card and discarded a six. That was a good sign. I picked up a jack.Fuck. But still, it was only one. I discarded a king.

Skye discarded a five, and two threes. But I picked up the next three jacks. I now had four jacks and a ten.

She picked up a card and discarded it—another ten.

I picked up a two. Damn it. I couldn’t lose. I tossed the ten I had left and glared at my hand.

Skye picked up a card, tucked it into her hand, and dropped a three on the pile.

I picked up and discarded garbage, but as the pile diminished, Skye’s eyes narrowed. Before our last couple of picks, she dropped her cards. “How many jacks do you have?”

I laid out my hand.

“Are you always this lucky?”

“Not always, but a lot.”

“Okay, what am I taking off next? The turtleneck or the jeans? I’m telling you right now I’ll fight to keep my socks.”

The picture of her in nothing but socks filled my brain, and my dick started to respond. “It’s cold. Maybe we should end the stripping part of the game.”

She shook her head. “Nope. I keep my promises.” She lifted the bottom of the turtleneck and pulled it up, getting stuck as it went over her head. And while she fought with it, I stared.

Her bra was pale pink, and thin enough that I could see the darker discs of her nipples through it. Her skin was smooth and creamy, and the way she was moving had her breasts jiggling in a ridiculously distracting way.

“Ugh!” She finally got the top off, her hair even more disheveled than last time.

She caught me looking. Her mouth twitched. I moved my eyes up and met hers. For long seconds, we stared at each other.

“Am I imagining this or are we having a moment?” she whispered.

“You’re not imagining it.”

“What are we doing?”

I knew what I wanted to be doing, but the place wasn’t much above freezing, despite the work of the fireplace, and… I pulled my gaze to the glasses of wine. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not.”

“I’d like to kiss you.”

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