But Xander still wasn’t going to get that kiss.
Then again, I hadn’t planned on getting off on his hard body yesterday or talking about Rashon today.
The way I acted around Xander both terrified and exhilarated me. It was like coming to life while realizing at the same time that I could die just as quickly.
Maybe it was all spilling out because I knew my secrets would remain in the walls of this prison, and die with him, or the way his piercing sapphire gaze seemed to drag out all the most important innermost desires like the ocean’s undertow. Whatever it was, I found myself wanting Xander more and more with each passing moment.
I partially blamed Jim. What a douche. It’s his fault Xander suddenly looked a million times more appealing. It was his fault that I suddenly found this game the most entrancing, captivating activity. It’s his fault I was pushed into taking on this bet.
As we set up the board for the second time, I tried to focus on the game. But my body grew hotter, the aching hunger in my chest spread. Xander’s scent filled my nostrils, a tantalizing blend of salty ocean air and warm, masculine musk. His eyes bored into mine without reserve, pinning me in the gut.
My lips tingled, wanting, waiting.
Nope nope nope.
The sooner I win, the sooner things can go back to how they were, I insisted to myself.
I ignored the part of crying out that it wanted more. More of Xander, more of the woman I was around him. Around him I felt equal parts sex goddess, clever wit, and absolute badass.
Topside, back in reality, I felt like a workhorse who ground herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have to think about her own life.
And in this makeshift dungeon, reality was far far away as I played with my tiny, plastic, red gingerbread man.
The idea of the world ending, or killing Xander also slipped away as we continued to play.
The game progressed quickly, with both of us determined to win.
Our little tokens wound up the board, and headed toward the sweet ending. I was ahead, but he was always right behind me. As the game wore on, I could feel the tension mounting, the stakes growing higher with each turn.
About to move my little gingerbread man, there was something about the way Xander scrutinized me from under his long dark lashes that made me hesitate. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, and it made me feel hot and flustered.
The memory of his lips on mine assaulted my mind in high definition, making my stomach flutter and my heart speed up.
I moved my gingerbread man only one space forward. It was a weak move, but I didn't want to make it too obvious. Xander raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything.
His plastic player moved ahead of mine.
I drew another card and played it, deliberately foregoing the yellow square that would have slid me up Licorice Lane and put me in the lead. Xander’s gaze was now riveted on the board, while I licked my suddenly dry lips. My nerves twisted into a tight cord at what I was doing.
WhatwasI doing?
If he said anything, if he so much as met my eye I would either stop what I was doing, or just get up and leave. Get right back in the elevator and return to reality where life was orderly, if not a little dull.
Xander passed Duchess Gumdrops, while I landed on the Molasses Mudslide and slid back down the board by a considerable distance.
I could feel the tension mounting, both of us silently daring the other to voice what was happening. I didn’t have to land on the Mudslide, and could I really say I didn’t know better while playing an easy child’s game?
I’m not losing on purpose. I’m doing the best I can, I blatantly lied to myself.
Xander drew another card. With only a twitch of his lips did he slide his gingerbread man into the Candy Land.
My stomach dropped out of my body, and I swallowed hard.
“Game over,” he murmured.
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but my heart pounded in my chest and I was sure Xander could hear it.
I couldn’t meet his eye, knowing what I’d done was so blatant, so foolhardy, so desperate and completely unlike me. Xander slid his chair back with an audible screech before rounding the small table. He held out a hand to me.
