Page 690 of End Game

“You chose clothing removal. Roll.”

Eighteen.

Ronan gestures toward me. “You may remove one article. No additional touching.”

Micah reaches for me.

Slowly.

His fingers find the hem of my shirt.

“You hear that?”

I look at Ronan.

Then Micah.

“No additional touching?”

“Correct.”

“This game is oppressive.”

Micah lifts my shirt.

I raise my arms.

His knuckles graze my ribs as little as physically possible.

Which somehow makes it worse.

The shirt comes off.

Micah folds it.

Folds it.

Then puts it beside his chair.

“You are sick.”

He smiles. “Good boy.”

My entire body reacts.

Ronan reaches into the bowl and rolls a glass bead between two fingers. “Micah earns inspiration.”

I turn on him. “For what?”

“Effective use of praise.”

“This is favoritism.”

“You responded exactly as he expected.”

Cami laughs.

Griffin's turn.