“You mean if I lose?” she asked, her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile.
Couldn’t blame her. I’d obviously rubbed her the wrong way or something—which, for the record, I gave zero fucks about—but resisting Noah? Impossible. Especially when he gave her an adorably sloppy beer grin, and said, “Gage is… is thebesht.”
“The ‘besht’?” she teased, giving in and smiling back at him. “You’re drunk, Noah.” She followed that up with another glare at me for some reason, but again, zero fucks given. Besides, it was true. Even Noah knew it.
“Yeah,” he agreed, snuggling back against my side with a happy grin. “I’mtotallydrunk.”
“He’s half your size, Gage,” Cassie said pointedly.
“The fuck he is,” I snapped, since that felt a little condescending to him even if I didn’t quite see what her point had been. Oh, hold up. Actually…
She was implying this wasmyfault?
Well… fuck. She might be right, come to think of it. Not that there was a damn thing wrong with having some fun of the alcoholic variety on a Friday night, but still, I probably should have cut him off earlier given how fucking tipsy he was.
I wrapped an arm around him to keep him steady, wondering for the umpteenth time why he always tried to keep up with me when we drank. I was a big guy, and let’s just say Noah was not. Nah, not “half my size,” that was definitely just a bitchy exaggeration, but… fine. Maybe not by much. Noah didn’t quite clear five-and-a-half feet while I’d passed six a few years ago, and since I also had a good eighty pounds of muscle on him, guess Cassie had a point. Next time there was alcohol involved, I was gonna do better at limiting Noah’s intake.
“So are we playing, or not?” someone across the table asked.
“Hell yeah, we are,” said that bossy-ass senior with a filthy grin. “The options are buy in with quarters or bet a promise of total servitude to the winner for the rest of the night. Anything goes. Who’s in?”
Oh, the dude wasslick, just slipping that in there like that.
I totally approved.
“I amnotpromising Gage total servitude, even if it is just for one night,” Cassie said stubbornly.
I smirked. Oh, really? She wasn’t gonna promisemethat?
Cassie clearly knew that I was the one who was gonna come out on top here tonight. Noah had already called it: I was a winner, and everyone at the table knew who would end up “master” tonight in any master-slave scenario.
“Well,I’min,” Mel said before Cassie could start whining again, sounding a little breathless as she added, “And I’m totally okay with offering up total servitude.”
“I’m… um, I’m in, too?” Noah said, making it sound like a question. He pushed against my side to get himself upright again and fumbled for the cards he’d left scattered on the table in front of him. Then, giving up on that and turning to give me some more of that dimple action, he drunkenly slow-blinked up at me through his stupidly long lashes, and asked, “Can I have another beer, G?”
I snorted back a laugh. “No,” I said, handing him his cards. He was ridiculous. Adorable, but ridiculous. He was legit swaying in his seat now that he wasn’t leaning on me anymore. He was definitely cut off.
I made a mental note never to let him go to a party without me… then scratched that note out, crumpled it up, and pitched it into the mental trash can since it was totally unnecessary.
Noah without me? Nah. Wasn’t ever gonna happen.
“Okay,” Cassie finally said, biting her lip as her eyes flickered between me and the senior she was definitely gunning for now. “I guess I’m in, too. But what are we actually going toputin the pot? Should we just, like, write out an IOU?”
“Here,” another one of the seniors said, suddenly tossing something into the middle of the table. “All you’ve gotta do is say you’re in. It’ll be the honor system on the total-servitude bet, and the loser can wearthatfor the duration of their—” he grinned evilly, “—service.”
My cock twitched. It looked like a... dog collar?
“Why do you have a collar with you, you kinky fuck?” someone asked him.
The guy grinned. “Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.”
“But it’s jusht… jusht for tonight?” Noah asked, two of his cards slipping out of his hand and fluttering down to the table. I picked them up and tucked them back into his hold. “That’s how long we get to… to do whatever Gage says for?”
“You always get to do what I say, dimples,” I said, winking at him. Kidding, of course.
...ish.
I mean, Noahhadalways seemed to thrive with a little direction from me, just sayin’.
