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“I’ve never ordered a drink from Starbucks,” I say.
Enzo huffs, clearly not on board with this version of truth or lies. He’d prefer if I revealed my secret. Or if I told him I love him. But that’s not what this is about. This is about breaking the tension. It’s about revealing the stupid little things in our heart no one else knows. It’s about connecting in a normal, human way instead of suffering the pain we’ve both been dealt.
“Truth,” Enzo says, with an intense fury behind the single word.
I raise an eyebrow as I push into his space, but I don’t touch him. Other than when Enzo touched a single strand of my hair, we haven’t touched each other.
“You’re losing your senses old man, because that was clearly a lie. Who in their right mind has never ordered a drink from Starbucks?” I ask, eyeing his shirt.
“I haven’t.”
“You’ve never ordered a drink from Starbucks?” my voice goes higher in disbelief as I speak.
“No. Why would I when I’ve grown up around constant butlers to get my drink for me?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re missing out. There is something about ordering an overpriced drink in their cups that does something to you. Makes you feel important when they call out your name.”
“I’ll have to give it a try,” he says, his gaze following my hungry one, staring at his black T-shirt like it’s the enemy. I want it off. I want his hard chest. I want his tight abs. I want his thick arms wrapped around me.
Enzo smirks and then removes his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I lost. Clearly, I need to remove an item of clothing.”
“We never agreed to any sort of bet.”
He laughs. “Your eyes did.”
Truth.
And then I’m drooling as I stare at his impossible abs. I want him to lose more. I want more items of clothing gone. I want to fuck him, even if we have to hide it from the world. Even if the team realizes I’m fucking him, it doesn’t mean I love him. Or that he loves me. I can tell them it’s purely physical, and because of the weird tension of the game, it means nothing.
“Truth or lies,” Enzo starts. “I want you to remove your pants.”
I smirk. Too easy. “Truth.”
Enzo leans into my personal space. “Lie. I want you to remove your shirt. I want you to keep your pants and panties on until you are so soaked that when you have to get dressed again, you will have a constant reminder the rest of the day of how badly you want me. And you’ll regret not telling me you love me.”
Well, I walked right into that one. It’s my turn to strip an item of clothing since I lost. He wants me to remove my shirt, but he knows that’s not the type of girl I am. So I strip off my jeans.
He growls with a light grin. His eyes deepening with my defiance. He likes being in control, but he also likes it when I defy him.
“You’ll pay for that.”
I lick my lip. “I can’t wait.”
“Your turn, baby.”
“Impatient?”
“Never, not when it comes to you. I want to savor every fucking moment. And I can last a lot longer than you. You will be begging for me to touch you by the end of this game. And then you will explode on my fingers before I even get my cock inside you.”
I pout wanting to argue with him, but we both know he’s right. And I won’t apologize for wanting him.
“I used to do gymnastics as a kid,” I say, deadpanned.
Enzo sucks in a breath at my admission.
