Page 112 of Destined To Fall

“Right. So, who goes first?”

Now this is the question. Do I go first and win, or do I let Jeremy go first, let him think he’s won, and pull the rug out from him later?Decisions.

“You first.”

Jeremy grins like the cat that caught the mouse, laying down a straight.“Beat that.”

“Well, I’ll be. I guess I can’t beat that with my two pair…” I show him my cards, carefully tucking the extra six that would have given me a full house and the upper hand, and place them face-down on the discard pile.

“Ha. Now strip.”

The satisfaction on his face is worth forfeiting my hand. I’m unlikely to see it much tonight. Well, not until later, that is. I shift so I can better take a shoe off, but Jeremy stops me.

“That’s a pussy strip. A shoe, really?”

“Would you rather I play in my underwear from the get-go? Because all I’ve got left to take off is my dress.”

“Ah…”

“Exactly.”

“Fine.”

“Wait. You want something?” He raises a brow as I maneuver my bra off under my dress, then toss it at him.

“I’ll never get over how women can do that. It is impressive.”

“I think it’s one of those skills we’re all just born with. My deal?” He nods, and I deal out.

We go on like this for a few hands. Jeremy loses his shirt on the next round, and I down half my whiskey to stop from drooling on my Persian rug. My shoes were next to go, as were his and his socks. By our tenth or eleventh game, Jer is down to his pants.

“Time’s a ticking.”

And with that, his pants hit the pile, and I forget how to breathe.

“Your ass is still mine, Viv.”

“You say this, but your ass is the one that’s practically on display. Deal the cards, Jer.”

He fumbles with the cards, and Ititterto myself. The joke’s on me, though. I’m so damn distracted, I discard the wrong cards and end up losing.

“Ha!”

“Just for that…”

I slip my lacy thong off and throw it at his face, my dress riding dangerously high up my thighs, the slits now up to my hip bones.

Jer swallows hard, his gaze zeroing in on the skin showing and his hands crushing my underwear in his fingers. The energy in the room shifts, supercharging and burning with sexual tension. Jeremy’s eyes meet mine, and I’m slammed with the strongest visual. Him knocking the table out of the way;me straddling him, slipping his boxers down, and sinking home.

My mouth goes dry as I watch Jeremy stand in slow motion, my eyes fixing to the taut V and the now-predominant bulge it leads to.

“Wait.” It comes out strangled, loud, anda littleweird, my breaths ragged and strange.

Fuck, what am I doing?

The uncertain, nervous look on his face undoes me, slapping me with the biggest reality check.

“I can’t do this. We can’t do this.” I squeeze out the words, my chest too tight, picking his clothes up in one giant, messy bundle and practically hurling them at him before dragging him to my front door.

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