My eyes widened as I flashed down his body. “You’ve played?” I asked, quite stupidly. It was Kellan I was talking to after all, the man who used to have threesomes like they were everyday occurrences. Of course he’d played strip poker. He’d probably played much more intense games that I did not want to think about.
He only smiled and nodded to my question, his face amused. Then he started dealing cards and explaining rules. I sighed listening to them, then mentally thanked myself for wearing a bunch of light layers today.
Over the course of the afternoon, I lost my shoes, socks, jeans and all but one of my short-sleeved t-shirts. Kellan was no better off, having lost his shirt on the very first hand and his jeans on a really bad bluff. Thank goodness girls generally wore more clothes than boys. More relaxed than when we’d started this little game, I laughed as I watched him reach down to take off his last remaining sock, setting down my pair of Queens in triumph.
Shaking his head, he muttered, “Trumped by the Queen….story of my life.”
Giggling, I kissed the air then dealt us another hand. Scooping them off the table, he fanned the five slick cards in his hand as he studied them. Kellan had wanted to play traditional poker, not the style that’s all the rage on TV now. Much like his car, Kellan liked the classics. His face was expressionless as he leaned back in his chair. Not that I really noticed his face. His bare chest was far too appealing. He looked very comfortable being nearly nude by the refrigerator.
I tried to match his casualness, since I was still far more dressed than he was, but it was odd to be sitting at the breakfast table in just my underwear. I played with the necklace at my throat while I studied the cards in my hand. Not bad, a low pair, but not great either; I’d have to take three on my turn and hope for the best. Glancing up, I found Kellan watching me with a small smile on his lips. He raised an eyebrow.
“Nervous?”
His eyes flashed to my necklace and I instantly stopped playing with it. So much for tells, although, the thought of taking off my last shirt was 61
making me far more nervous than my lack of cards. Of course, if I won the hand, Kellan’s next piece of clothing was those delightful black boxers he liked wearing. And I was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing two pairs today.
Smiling effortlessly, I shook my head. “No?” I glanced down his body and raised my own eyebrow. “You?”
Biting his lip, he shook his head. “Nope. In fact, I don’t even need any more cards. How about you?”
I contained the frown I felt coming. I really didn’t have the best hand, just a pair of threes. Kellan would know that if I dealt myself more cards.
I really didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, especially when his lips started curving into a smug, seductive smile. Lifting my chin, I reminded myself that Kellan was awful at this game and he probably had nothing.
Smiling softly, I shook my head. “Nope, I’m good.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, then drug his teeth over it. It was freaking hot and my mouth dropped open a little. “Yeah, I know,” he whispered, laying his cards down. Blindly, I laid mine down, too.
Still staring at his mouth, I didn’t notice what he had. When he chuckled, I finally blushed and looked down. “Crap.” Shaking my head, I stared at his low pair…of fours. He had made me believe that he was bluffing, and unfortunately, I’d fallen for it.
Sighing, I gave him sad eyes. “Really?”
Laughing, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Deals a deal, Kiera.” His smile not leaving him, he blatantly stared at my chest.
Sighing again, I plucked at the fabric near my waist. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen me before, it wasn’t as if I didn’t still have a bra on, but there was something nerve-wracking about causally taking off my clothes in broad daylight, with Kellan staring holes through me but not being anywhere near me. It quickened my breath.
“How did you ever talk me into this?” I muttered, lifting the fabric up and over me.
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When my plain, white, practical cotton bra was exposed, Kellan’s eyes started to smolder. Running my hands along my arms, I resisted the urge to hide myself. It helped that Kellan looked like I was wearing the sexiest lingerie on the planet, like my slight curves were the most voluptuous he’d ever seen. Finally peering up at my face, his grin turned devilish. “I love this game.”
Laughing a little, I tossed my shirt at him. Just as he was inhaling it, a dopey grin on his face, the doorbell rang. I immediately tried to snatch it back, but he stood up with it and took a step away from me. His face lit up as he set it on the counter. “Oh good, food’s here.” Crossing my arms over my chest and my legs over each other, I was instantly conscious of how little I was wearing. As Kellan stood tall and straight, hands on his hips, he seemed oblivious to the fact that only one piece of dark, loose fabric was hiding him away from the world.
“What food? What are you talking about?” I squeaked out, feeling my cheeks heat.
Grinning, he tilted his head at me. “I thought you might be getting hungry, so I ordered some pizza on your last bathroom break.” As I gaped at him, he turned to leave the kitchen. “Kellan!” He looked back at me and I flung a hand out at his glorious—but mostly bare—body.
His hands patted his chest, then his hips. “Oh…right.” Smiling, he walked over to his pile of clothes near the table. I expected him to step into his jeans and pull them up, but he only rifled through them to get to a pocket. Seconds later, he pulled out his wallet. “I should probably pay them, huh?”
I sputtered something unintelligible, and he leaned up and gave me a brief kiss. As my hand was still gesturing to the expanse of smooth, muscled skin he was showing, he finished standing and hurried out to grab our food…in just his boxers.
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Shaking my head, I grabbed his shirt by my feet and held it up over my chest. It wasn’t as if I could be seen from the entryway, but if they saw Kellan like that, well, then they would probably assume that he wasn’t half-dressed alone. It made my cheeks heat and I sunk my head into my hands. Well, that’s what I get for being with a man that had no idea what being self conscious felt like. He knew he looked good, and he didn’t really care who else knew it too. Some days, I’d give anything for that sort of confidence. Yeah, that was also on my list of things to work on.
I heard him open the door and greet someone. Then I heard giggling…female giggling. Sighing, I shook my head. Of course the pizza person would be a girl tonight, on the night that Kellan decides to answer the door in his skivvies. I pictured him leaning against the doorframe, every wondrous muscle distinct and defined as pizza-chick drooled over our pepperoni. At least my name on his chest would be distinct and defined for her, too.
Sorry, girlie, but the hot man handing you a twenty right now belongs to me. See, it says so right there on his pec. I smiled and rolled my eyes at myself.
The giggling never stopped the whole time she was here, and it seemed like forever as I waited. When the door finally shut and Kellan sauntered back into the kitchen, pizza box in hand, his smile was beautif-ic. It faded a little when he saw that I’d covered up with his t-shirt in his absence. He pointed at me, a smaller box in his other hand. “Uh-uh, that’s cheating. You have to stay as naked as you were when I left.” I rolled my eyes and dropped his shirt to the floor. “Even when you’re flirting with the delivery girl?”
Setting the larger box on the counter, he twisted his lips at me. “I wasn’t flirting.”
Deciding to try on that self confidence that oozed from him so fluidly, I stood up. His eyes traveled down and back up my body, his smile evening out. “You weren’t?” Coming up to stand in front of him, I leaned back on a hip and mimicked a pose that every sexy underwear 64
model used. Pointing at the smaller box in his hand, I asked, “Then what’s that?”
Shrugging, he bit his lip. “She had some extra breadsticks. She said we could have them if we wanted.”
I shook my head and he chuckled. Quickly setting down the box, his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight to his body. I laced my arms around his neck while his lips traveled up my throat to my ear.
“I can’t help what women find appealing.” His mouth danced over mine, soft and feather-light, while his hand ducked inside my underwear, cupping my bottom. “But I only find you appealing,” he murmured.
Breathing much heavier, I attached my mouth to his. He could have given her a lap dance for those breadsticks right now and I wouldn’t have cared. Well, okay, I would have cared, but I would have let it go.
He may be the object of many people’s affections, but I was the object of his.
Just as I was considering removing the last piece of his clothing, he stepped away from me. Grabbing my hand, he twirled me out from him and then back to him. Laughing, my hand touched his chest for a moment before I was swirled away again. His laughter joined my own, and with only the merriment of our joy as music, we danced for a moment in his kitchen…in our underwear.
We never went back to our game after that, just snatched up greasy slices between dips and twirls. Eating and laughing, Kellan completely swept away any lingering nerves I had about the next morning. He completely washed away any thoughts of self-consciousness too. By the time we were a few slices into our pie and through a few of his hard-earned breadsticks, I was shaking my modestly covered booty for Kellan.
Nearly in hysterics when he chose to copy my move, I enjoyed finally feeling a small speck of his confidence.
And he was the reason I felt it. His gaze, his touch, his smile, his laugh, no one had ever made me feel…worshipped…quite like he did. I felt like I could do anything as I danced in that kitchen with him and I knew, without a doubt, that I really would be fine tomorrow.
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