I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. I was still a little self-conscious before coming over, but unless I'm reading it way wrong, I get the feeling Zak and Jack aren't put off by my appearance. If anything, they've been taking turns low-key checking me out.
"What sort of card games do you like?" Zak asks, taking a sip of beer, his eyes on me.
"You know, normal games like blackjack, hearts, poker."
"Poker, huh?" He breaks into a wide grin, casting a quick glance at Jack before aiming those light-brown eyes square at me. "We could play some poker if you like."
His eyes are gleaming in a way that seems…suggestive? Orrr, I'm a loser who never leaves his house, is hopeless at reading social cues, and has totally been misreading everything tonight. I haven't had a date in years, and here I am thinking these two great, successful, hot-as-hell guys are checking me out. I need to get a grip.
"Care to make it interesting?" he offers with a tongue pop.
I reach over to grab my beer bottle. I've had four all evening. For a guy my size, it means I'm barely buzzed. "What do you have in mind?" I say before I take a slow swig, my eyes meeting his.
"How would you feel about some strip poker?"
ThankgodI just swallowed otherwise I'd be sputtering beer all over the room. "Seriously?"
"Sure." His eyes roam up and down my body. Okay, I didnotimagine that. "Why not?"
I turn to Jack since this doesn't sound like something he'd be into. But when I catch him giving me the same once-over Zak just did, I get the sense that might not be the case.
I decide to check anyway. "Are you in?"
He nods, tongue scraping on his lower lip. "I am. Need to warn you, though, I'm terrible at the game."
Let's recap here. These two incredible guys have invited me over. They're relaxed and funny and super easy to talk to. I'm having fun despite losing horribly at card games I've never heard of.
And my body doesn't seem to disgust them.
Feeling emboldened, I hedge, "Sounds good to me."
And with that, the game gets underway. Things become competitive real fast. One bad hand leads to another, and clothes start coming off, piece by piece. Both Jack and Zak are down to their drawers, while I'm faring slightly better with my jeans on, as well as one boot.
"Damn it," I grumble, throwing my hand on the table. "There goes my lead."
"Ha! Ha! Off with the shoe." Zak laughs.
I kick off my left boot and mutter, "Now we're all down to one piece of clothing."
Jack's brow furrows as he blinks. "But you're still wearing jeans."
"Exactly." I chug the rest of my beer. "Like I said, one item left."
"So you're a commando guy, hey?" Zak asks, resting his hand on my thigh.
We're sitting close to the coffee table, and since all three of us are tall, there's been a lot of incidental touching throughout the evening.
This doesn't feel incidental, though. This feels deliberate.
"Yep. It's a little hard to, uh…"
"Find underwear that fits?" Jack suggests, his voice soft as he comes closer on the other side.
"Yeah." I drop my head only to feel soft fingers hook under my chin a few seconds later. It's Zak, guiding my head back up. "That's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know." My heavy shoulders sag. "It's stupid."
"It's not stupid if that's how you feel," Jack says, placing his hand on my other thigh. "What are you feeling?"
