Page 68 of Fight

We haven’t fully discussed details of what comes next. She’s separated and will eventually have to address her unfinished business from back home, but I’ve made it clear I intend to pick up where we left off. Of all the women to bring me to my knees, figures it’s the one who comes with the most baggage, but hey, at least we have a matching set.

She narrows her eyes at me. “E-5.”

How the hell does she do that?I pluck my aircraft carrier from the board and quietly relocate it to the row below. “Miss.”

Her laugh fills the space. “Bullshit!”

“What’sbullshitis you never losing this game,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

She grins. “Next time, I’ll only use four boats, even out our handicap.”

“You found my carrier last, so I wouldn’t go talking trash, woman,” I announce, moving my carrier back to the original spot and adding a red peg to the middle. Can’t believe she’s going to win again.

“Whatever you say.”

We wrap up the game quickly. She’s got a weird knack for knowing exactly where I “hide” my boats. At least I sank three and a half of hers this time, which is a new record for me. I’m getting better.

“We should be betting money,” she says, smiling, satisfied with her undefeated streak.

I like where her head’s at… “How about clothes?”

She laughs. “What?”

I shrug and gesture to the baggy T-shirt hiked up to her mid-thigh while she sits on the blanket on the floor. “Afraid you’ll lose?” Her nipples harden under the cotton, and I resist groaning.

She narrows her eyes while considering my proposal. “No… but you have more clothes than I do. You’re at an advantage.”

I cock my head to the side. “Oh, I thought you wanted to even our handicap? Scared now?”

The corner of her mouth curls up. “Of you?Please.”

“Famous last words.” I tsk. The next time she saysplease, my head will be buried between her thighs.

We set up our boards, and this time, I cluster my pieces in the corner. “B-9,” I say, starting the game.

Her eyes grow wide, and she looks up at me, gaze filled with disbelief. “Hit.”

“Well, well, well…” I’m very delighted with my luck. She doesn’t have to remove clothing until I sink a ship, but I’m already halfway there.

“A-3,” she guesses.

“Miss.” I grin. “B-8.”

“Miss,” she echoes. “F-4.”

“Miss.”Maybe she has her boat lined up vertically. “C-9?”

She purses her lips. “Hit.”

Two rounds later, I’ve sunk her destroyer. She peels off a single sock.

I point toward the other one. “Socks count as one. Take them both off.”

“What? Since when?” She argues.

“Since always.” I nod to her feet. “Both of them, Scottie.”

She loses the second sock and throws it at me in a small act of rebellion. “H-6.”

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