After I kissed Bishop, Rafe ended their dance and the four of us walked off the stage.
Colt proclaimed the night the best fundraiser they’d ever had, and the crowd had slowly worked its way back into full party mode.
How far was I willing to go to maintain my cover?
Bishop kissed my shoulder again, and Ash dealt the next round.
Bishop’s breath feathered across my neck. “What are you betting this time?”
My tongue darted out to brush my lower lip.
I was down to three articles of clothing.
My bra, my pants, and my panties. Did I sacrifice my bra or my pants next? They were going to win. I didn’t have a prayer of beating any of them. I’d known that the minute I sat down.
“Pants.” I gathered my cards and held them to my chest. “What about you?”
“Shirt.” Bishop groaned and adjusted himself through his boxers. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
No. No, I didn’t.
I’d never had anyone react to me the way they did.
Lethal.
I reminded myself that Bishop was more than a threat to my sanity and my sex drive.
He was a killer.
“Why don’t we up the stakes?” Rafe leaned forward, setting his elbows on the table.
Whoa. I should stop this, right here and now.
Instead, I nodded. “What do you have in mind?”
“The next person to win is allowed five seconds with the person of their choice. To do anything they want.” Desire glittered in his eyes.
The sight of it pooled in my belly. “Agreed.” I wanted to win, and yet I didn’t.
If I won, how was I supposed to choose which one I wanted, and what I’d do with them?
Five seconds wasn’t long enough, but it was a start.
I barely looked at my cards, set two down, and took the extra ones Ash slid my way.
A quick look revealed they were even worse than my first two.
I bit back a wince.
I could fold and maybe keep this going a while longer.
Or I could bluff and try to win.
The hell with it.
I was tired of thinking, tired of planning and the constant stress that had surrounded me since I became a detective.
For once in my life, I took something for myself and lost the round.
