“Fine.” I peeled off the T and tossed it aside. “There you go. Happy?”
“I’m not unhappy.” Juliet’s hungry eyes roved over my chest and abs. “I have a feeling this game is going to be a lot shorter than I expected.”
“Well, what do you have on? Just that dress and . . .” I couldn’t believe I was about to say this. “Uh, underwear? Bra?”
“I guess you’ll have to win a hand to find out.” She moved our previous cards out of the way and dealt another two cards apiece.
This time, my hidden card was a king of spades and the showing card was an ace. I carefully schooled my face.
“I stand.”
“Do you?” Juliet lifted her card to take a look. “Okay. So do I.” She revealed hers—an eight of diamonds and a ten of clubs. “Eighteen.”
“Great.” I turned over my cards. “But not as great as Blackjack.”
She tossed back her head and laughed. “Ouch. Okay. Turnabout fair play and all that.” She stood up and reached for the straps of her sundress, flicking them off her creamy shoulders. She wiggled again—just like in the chair—and the thin cotton fabric slithered down her body.
Leaving her completely naked.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “You didn’t have anything on under there?”
Juliet lifted her hands. “Nothing but a smile.”
“Holy fuck.” My dick was hard now, straining upward under the sweats. “Juliet.”
“Does this mean you win, or do we play another hand and see if I can even the score?”
I swallowed, my throat tight with desire. “Um . . . yeah. Another hand.” Anything to buy me a little time to figure out what the hell I was going to with the naked woman in my kitchen.
“Okay.” She sat down again, perching on the edge of the chair. “Hope this is my lucky hand.”
“Uh-huh.” I glanced at my cards. A four of hearts and an eight of clubs. “Hit me.”
“Hitting you.” She slapped down a card—and it was a ten of hearts.
Fuck.
Juliet pulled another card for herself and smiled brilliantly. “I’m standing—on twenty.”
I flicked my cards over. “Burned.”
“Oooooh, itismy lucky hand.” She leaned up, and the rosy tips of her full breasts brushed the table. “Take off the pants, Noah.”
“Are we sure we want to do this?” I rasped. “Are you positive you’re okay with this?”
“Oh, Noah, I’m very okay with this. Now stop dawdling and lose the pants.”
I rubbed the back of my head. “Uh, with my leg, taking off my sweatpants isn’t exactly easy. It’s awkward. Usually, I lay on my back on the bed and flounder around like a fish out of water until I can kick them off with my good foot.”
Juliet laughed. “As much as I’d love to see that in action, I’m going to suggest that I give you a hand.” She cast me a saucy look. “So to speak.”
All of the blood rushed away from my brain. “I think I can live with that.”
“All right then.” She came around the table, and my breath caught as I let myself take her in. She was beautiful, perfectly toned and fit, with a flat stomach, rounded hips, a squeezable ass, and full, perky breasts.
“Scoot your chair back a little.” She stepped closer. “Use your hands to lift your ass—yeah, like that.” She knelt next to me and wrapped her arms around my waist until I felt her thumbs under the band of my sweats. Her touch never left my sensitive skin as she drew the pants under my backside and then carefully drew the elastic over my stiff erection. Her lips parted, and her eyes flickered up to mine.
“Um, holy crap. You’re . . .” The tip of her tongue ran over her lips. “You are insanely gorgeous, Noah. I mean, I figured you had to be pretty, um, hung, considering the size of the rest of you, but damn.”
