CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SILVERWARE? SO MUCH for ingenuity. “If we’re going to play poker,” Tara said, throwing off any worry about her future, “we might as well make it worthwhile and play strip.”
Might as well go all in.
Across the small Formica table, Jeff’s cheeks turned red and his golden brown eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
They didn’t need to have thisconversation again. She had no delusions about what he could offer. Tomorrow everything might change, but tonight she had him all to herself and she didn’t plan to waste it. She waschoosingto have a fling that would go nowhere, and while she knew it would hurt, there was also power in having the choice.
Not out of desperation for a physical substitute for love, that intense desire to feelwanted, or some misguided belief that he might be The One. But she’d already half fallen for this man. She wanted to make him happy. She wanted to be happy with him for as long as she could.
Beyond that, she had no control.
After his initial shock, Jeff sat back with a smug look. “Then prepare to get chilly.”
Tara grinned.Game on.
Her pulse picked up as he dealt the first hand. The airbetween them thickened with anticipation.
An hour later, she still wore her panties and T-shirt, while Jeff was down to his boxers, his well-defined muscles and the dark hair scattered across his chest messing with her focus.
Maybe she should fold and have him take her shirt, just to fuck with him. He had a killer poker face. She hadn’t found his tell yet, and his expression never seemed tochange regardless of his hand. Maybe because when either of them lost, they both won.
Still, she had a competitive streak. She wanted to win the game.
He dealt another round and took another card, giving her no signs whatsoever. He could have a royal flush or zip.
She stared at her cards, hoping for inspiration. So far, she had deuces. Nothing to get excited over. She was decent at thisgame, but he must have found a tell. Or he was just lucky.
Maybe it was high time they both got lucky.
Tara folded.
In unison, they rose from their seats.
Her body flushed as he stared down at her with a wicked smile. “Finally.” He toyed with the hem of her shirt, his knuckles barely skimming across her stomach, like the brush of a cat’s whiskers.
The effect was like a full-on caress,heat skating across her skin. His gaze slid to her hard nipples chafing against her T, and he licked his lips.
“T-shirt?” he asked.
She nodded.Take it off already!Resisting the urge to scream, she stood still, waiting, dragging the suddenly heavy air through her lungs.
“Ready?” he asked.
She lifted her arms. What was he waiting for?
Slowly, slowly, he slid the fabric up her torso,letting it caress her hypersensitive skin and slide across her breasts before tugging it gently over her head.
For a moment, he just stared at her, the tent in his skivvies growing larger. Her entire body flushed at his open appraisal.
Unable to stand the intensity of his dark gaze for another second, she cocked a hip and struck a pose with elbows bent, one hand in her hair and the other onher waist. “You like what you see?”
“You’re sexy as hell,” he breathed.
She wasn’t really. Her breasts were too small, she was too short, and she lacked womanly curves. But men liked a pretty face and a willing body. For a long time, she’d been insecure enough to oblige.
