Page 9 of Snowed

Cade

I wouldn’t have minded seeing some skin.

Especially after the way her green eyes had darkened to gray when I’d told her I wanted to fuck her. She’d felt me, whether she’d ever admit it or not. But as much as I’d enjoy seeing what was underneath the funky clothes she wore, I wouldn’t do that to Daria. Not to any woman. If a woman wanted to take her clothes off for me, it would be her choice. Not some game.

“New rule,” I said.

“You can’t make up new rules.”

“Show me the rule that says I can’t make up new rules.”

Daria rolled her eyes. “What are you proposing?”

“Each player gets two steals.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means at any time during the game, either of us can decide to take the other player’s card and use it as our turn.” I leaned forward and plucked the one currently in her hand.

“Are you serious? You want to take your clothes off?”

I shrugged. “I got nothing to hide.”

Daria nibbled her lip. She probably suspected I was trying to let her off the hook and was debating what was worse—accepting my help or getting naked in front of me. Eventually she sighed. “Fine. I accept your rule modification.”

It wouldn’t be as much fun, that was for damn sure, but I worked hard on my body and never minded showing it off. Though, if I was stripping, I sure as hell was going to make it an act she’d remember. I dug my cell out of my pocket, opened the Spotify app, and searched up some Marvin Gaye. Scrolling until I found the perfect song, I hit speaker and stood as “Sexual Healing” began.

Daria watched me like I needed my head examined. But her face changed as I lifted the hem of my shirt and teased taking it off while gyrating my hips. My good-for-nothing father hadn’t given me much, but he did give me rhythm and hips that swiveled better than Elvis. Magic Mike’s got nothing on me.

I put on a show worthy of big bills at the strip club, and Daria’s jaw hung open while she watched. Once I’d finally removed my shirt, she swallowed. It took a solid thirty seconds before she blinked out of her haze.

“Well, I guess we know what you did before becoming a tattoo artist,” she said.

“My ex-roommate was a stripper. He might’ve showed me some moves.” I sat back down without my shirt. Daria’s eyes wandered to my abs twice more before she looked away. “You can get dressed now, Moron Mike.”

I could’ve busted her balls about the look she’d had on her face while watching me, but for some reason, I didn’t. Daria grabbed the next Talk card from the pile and scanned it before sighing.

“What’s it say?”

“Tell the player across from you what you find most attractive about them.”

I smiled from ear to ear and leaned back to clasp my hands behind my head. “That’s got to be a hard one, since everything about me is so attractive.”

Daria rolled her eyes. “If only your personality matched the packaging.”

“Did you just say you think I’m hot, Red?”

She shook her head. “It figures you took that from my statement and not the fact that your personality is shitty.”

I ignored her. “So let’s hear it. What part of my body turns you on the most?”

Clearly it pained her to have to compliment me. Which I very much enjoyed.

Daria tossed the card with a sigh. “Fine. Your chest doesn’t look that bad.” She shook her head and climbed up off the floor. “I need more wine.”

While she refilled her glass, I cheated a little. I took the card she’d just discarded and put it back on the top of the Talk pile, leaving a different one in its place. She came back a minute later, none the wiser.

“Your turn.”