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“It’s not hot. You’re hot, though.” Lily was propped up on a pile of pillows, her naked body covered in his slate gray sheets. She was relaxed and smiling, her hair an even bigger mess than earlier.

From his perch on the bottom of the bed, he said, “God, you’re cute.”

“Don’t change the subject. The bet is that you couldn’t give your speech to an audience of one without choking.” She quirked her lips. “I’m pretty sure you’re about to lose.”

“Am not.” He stood and adjusted the waistband of his boxers. “You’re going to lose.”

“I’m not going to lose. You’re going to choke.”

He narrowed his eyes. Competing with her at work had always been exhilarating. Competing with her in the bedroom had been even more fun. This was…a little less fun, but it didn’t mean he was going to choke. What she didn’t know about him was that sex cleared away the cobwebs in his mind. He was as sharp as a machete.

“Get your dancing shoes ready.” He rubbed his hands together. When she lost, she’d have to dance to a song of his choosing. Without her clothes.

“I’m not allowed to wear shoes, remember?”

He smiled, and nearly forgot what he was doing. Focus, Black.

“Clock’s ticking.” She folded her arms over her sheet-covered chest. “Just remember, twenty minutes is a third of an hour.”

And now she was trying to psych him out. “You’re playing dirty.”

“I learned from the best.”

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Think of what you’ll win. Lily dancing naked. As motivations went, having her naked might have been the best one. He opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders. Tilted his head to one side and cracked his neck.

“So, Donald Duck walks into a pants store.” He paused for the laugh.

She didn’t laugh. “Was that supposed to be funny?”

“You’re supposed to start with a joke.”

“Don’t start with that joke. Start with a sincere and simple greeting.”

“Okay.” He set his notecards aside and shook out his arms. He kept his face neutral instead of frowning—like she’d taught him at the mansion that night—and then he took a breath and began earnestly. “Ladies and gentlemen…”

Crap. She was going to lose.

She tore her eyes off Marcus, who looked sexy as hell wearing nothing but boxers and a smile, and checked the timer on her phone. He sounded like his natural, easygoing, slightly cocky self. Confidence rolled off him in waves. If he hadn’t admitted to her that he was nervous, she never would have known.

“Finally…” He gestured to her with an open palm. “I’d like to thank Lily McIntire, who will now shimmy her sweet ass out of my bed and shake her groove thing to the soothing sounds of AC/DC’s ‘You Shook Me All Night Long.’”

She reached behind her for a pillow and then threw it at him.

He caught it midair. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

She pouted. How had she let him talk her into giving him a nude dance?

“I’m kidding.” He leaned on the bed with his fists.

“Really?” What a relief.

“About the song. I’d never make you dance to AC/DC.”

He tore the sheets off her. “Let’s see your moves, McIntire.”

“Rain check?” She scrabbled for the covers, but he held them in one fist.

“Not on your life.”