Page 52 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

“Oh, my God, really? I bared it all for you and that’s all I get?” She tilts her head to the side. “Or are you worried your middle-aged bod won’t stack up to my nubile physique?”

She likes to play dirty. I keep my eyes on her face as I take off my shirt. She’s right in that I’ve seen her nubile body, touched it,and I’d crawl over broken glass to touch it again. No, I want to taste her, drink from that sweet pussy of hers.

But she didn’t see much of me. My dick, yes, but that was it. I tug off my shirt, and my breath holds as I wait to see her reaction. It’s ridiculous how nervous I am. I don’t want her to see a middle-aged man. I want her to see a man she desires.

Her gaze rakes down my chest to my abs. She drags her tongue over her lower lip, and my dick twitches, wishing she’d lick me again.

When her gaze lifts to my face, she shrugs, but I can tell she likes what she sees. Thank fuck.

“Not bad, old man.”

“Deal the cards, Bambina.”

She shuffles the cards, looking pleased with herself.

“We play by standard rules. Lose a hand, lose a piece of clothing."

"I know how strip poker works," she says, dealing the cards.

I feel ridiculous, like I'm too old for this kind of game. Maybe it's the vodka, or maybe it's just her effect on me, but I’m quite content at this moment.

"Full house," she announces triumphantly.

I lay down my pair of kings. "Looks like I'm first." I toe off my other shoe, knowing it will irk her.

“Strip, old man.”

I shake my head. “I’m not sure you can handle all this.” I motion to my body.

She stares me straight in the eyes. “You never know unless you let me try.”

Fuck. Are we talking about strip poker or sex?

“Just deal.” I want to strip bare, but that stupid conscience I’ve grown since meeting her is making me doubt all this. Yes, I gave her what she wanted earlier, but it was supposed to be a one-off thing.

She shakes her head but shuffles and deals. I have shit cards. I reach over to the deck and sort through them until I find better ones.

Her eyes narrow at my blatant cheating. "Really? You're not even trying to hide it?"

I shrug. “Just trying to even things up.”

She laughs. “Fine, show me what you’ve got, cheater.” She fans out her cards, revealing a pair of tens.

I lay down my hand. “Four aces. What are the odds?"

"You're impossible." She shakes her head but reaches for the hem of her sweater. "I hope you're happy with yourself."

"Like I said, just evening the playing field."

My smug satisfaction evaporates as she pulls the sweater over her head. No bra. Just smooth, pale skin and perfect tits. And by perfect I mean high, round, soft looking. Her nipples pucker as the cool air of the room hits them. My mouth goes dry.

“Yoo-hoo.” She waves the cards in my face. “Don’t be distracted by the girls.”

Why the fuck not?

"You deal this time,” she says, seemingly unfazed by her partial nudity.

I try to collect the cards but my fingers feel clumsy. The deck scatters across the coffee table. "Shit, sorry."

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