I roll my eyes at him and then grab his hand, planting my lips on it to the count of three. "Done. Your turn."
He looks at his hand and frowns. "I think you need help understanding the point of this game." He picks a card and reads his question. "What's my favorite color?"
His cobalt blue eyes are laughing at me. Damn this man. I mentally review the clothes I've seen him in, the decor of his house and anything else I can remember from the times I've spent with him while not drunk. "Red," I guess.
He smiles. "That's correct. What gave me away?"
"Your ties," I tell him, holding out the naughty deck, as I'm now calling it. "They all have bold splashes of red in them."
"Good eye, darling. I guess I have to draw."
He reads the card silently before speaking. "Pick an exposed spot of skin on your partner's body and get creative."
He looks me over, his eyes hungry. My arms, parts of my legs, my neck, face… there are many parts for him to “get creative” with, and I wait, breath tight, as he decides what he's going to do and where he's going to do it.
Slowly he lifts my hand from my lap, exposing the inside of my wrist. First, his thumb caresses the soft skin, sending shivers through my body; then he brings it to his lips. I can feel his breath first, hot and enticing, then his lips brush against the thin blue veins under my pale skin. When his teeth graze that same spot, biting gently into flesh, I nearly come undone. He ends with a kiss and places my hand back into my lap. "A little taste of what's to come," he says, his voice deep.
I try to keep my cool, to pretend that his touch, his teeth, his kiss, didn't just light a fire inside me that will be impossible to extinguish, but I'm sure I fail miserably.
I draw the next card. "Where was I born?"
"Mansfield, Ohio," he says without a pause. How the hell does he know these things?
He sees the question in my eyes and laughs. "We shared a lot the night we married," he says. "I happen to remember it all."
And I don't. That puts me at a distinct disadvantage.
I pull a card since he got the answer correct. "Have your partner close their eyes and do something titillating to them."
He closes his eyes while I consider what “titillating” thing I should do. I decide to keep it simple. I lean in and first run a finger gently across his lower lip, then I bring my face closer to his, brushing my lips against his, teasing open his mouth with my tongue. I make the kiss delicate, sensuous, as tortuous as I can without giving him everything, while I run a fingernail lightly down his neck.
Our breath mingles, tongues barely touching as our lips continue to find brief moments of connection.
And then I pull away and lean back into my pillow. "Was that titillating enough?"
He opens his eyes and grins at me. "Oh yes. And I'll remember that when it's my turn."
A shiver of anticipation courses through me as he draws another card.
"Next question," he says. "Who's my favorite entertainer?"
I have no idea, because even though we both live in Las Vegas, we haven't talked about pop culture much.
"It's actually someone right here in Las Vegas," he says. "David Melton."
"The magician?" I ask, while trying a flaky cheese-filled treat.
He nods.
I grin widely. "He might become a client of Hitched."
His eyes widen. "Really? How?"
I explain about my gift basket and the call and end with my plans to take over the world.
"You're a genius," he says. "I used to watch his shows, and I've been to his live performance a few times. I haven't seen his latest one yet, but it's on my to-do list. I don't believe in magic, but he certainly has me wondering how he does it all without any help from the supernatural."
"I think it's magic," I say. "Real magic. Nothing else makes sense. Some of that stuff just can't be faked."
Sebastian laughs. "It can all be explained, somehow. No magic involved. Just science. Logic. Trickery."
"Remember that time he made that guy disappear and then reappear in another country with his family! That was crazy. No way could that be faked. There has to be some deals with the devil or voodoo or something going on." I've always been convinced that magicians of Melton's caliber have some kind of hidden power none of us have. It's too amazing to be otherwise. I know this makes me sound silly, but not everything in the world can be explained and rationalized.
Sebastian leans over and kisses me. "I believe in one kind of magic, and that's the magic of how you make me feel when we're together."
"You have a way with the words," I tell him.
"I want to have my way with you."
I pull out of his grasp. "Not until we finish our game."
He groans and sits back in his spot. "Have you seen Melton perform live?"
"No. Believe it or not, I haven't seen any shows on the Strip since moving here."
"Seriously?" He asks.
"Seriously. We've either been too busy or too broke. Or both. I want to though. Especially Le Reve. I hear it's beautiful."