April
Ryan wanted to play a game? Fine, I could play a game, I thought with an inward smirk. That’s what this pursuit of mine was, after all.
“Ok, let’s do it,” I said with a level of excitement as I leapt to my feet. “You set up the board and letter tiles, and I’ll get us some hot chocolate.”
I saw Ryan’s eyes darken at the completely intentional boob jiggle when I jumped up. “If you’re cold you might try putting on some real clothes,” he muttered as I walked out of the room.
I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. This was already going better than dinner. I had him right where I wanted him.
Fortunately, I had bought a bunch of toppings for the hot cocoa when I stopped at the store earlier. I had intended it as a festive and family friendly drink for Christmas Eve, but it would work for my purposes too.
I made the drinks and loaded them up with whipped cream.Lotsof it.
I handed a mug to Ryan, bending lower than necessary and giving him a straight shot down my loose top. He took the mug with a hard swallow and set it down. Then he exhaled a harsh breath and returned to the game pieces.
As he doled out the little tiles, I grabbed my own drink and dipped a finger into the topping, licking it off slowly. Yes, it was cheesy and obvious, but I wasn’t trying to be subtle anymore.
I saw Ryan shake his head, but he didn’t say anything. He was going to make me work for it, which I was fine with at this point. His restraint was admirable, and I was going to have fun breaking it.
We got going with the game, barely talking, and at first, I played as I normally would. I put down a couple of standard words, nothing special. But on my fourth turn, I saw my opening.
“B.R.E.A.S.T.S Breasts. 15 points.” I laid my tiles with emphasis.
“Of course,” Ryan responded. He diligently wrote down the points, and started working on his own word, never looking up.
I picked up some new tiles, and giggled when I saw what they were. And after Ryan took his turn, he even left me an open Y. Perfect.
“K.I.N.K.Y. Ki”-
“Dammit April. Enough.” Ryan growled, standing.
“What? It’s a real word,” I said, keeping my face as impassive as possible.
“I know it’s a real word, but I’m not an idiot,” he said, jaw clenching as he jammed his hands on his hips. “Earlier in the bathroom. Those ridiculous clothes, your make out session with the whipped cream, and now this erotic game of Scrabble you’ve decided to play. Exactly what are you trying to accomplish?”
I stared at him for a minute, considering my answer. I was actually having a lot of fun messing with him, but he was stubborn, and it could take a really long time to crack. And we only had a few more days together. Alone.
“Ok, Fine. You’re right,” I conceded, folding my hands in my lap. “I think we have an opportunity here, and we should take advantage of it.”
His gaze narrowed skeptically. “Whatkindof opportunity?”
I gathered my courage and put it all out on the table. “I’ve been attracted to you for years, and I’m pretty sure that you’ve at least considered it. We’re stuck here in this cabin together. Bored. Alone. Why not make the best of it? Save this miserable Christmas with a little bit of fun, for both of us.”
“You’re crazy. That’s a terrible idea,” he said, trying his best to infuse conviction into his voice even as I watched a flicker of interest spark in his eyes. “Your brother would never forgive me for messing around with you, and it would make things awkward as hell next time we’re together.”
“I didn’t hear you say that you aren’t interested,” I replied, grinning.
He groaned and scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “That’snotthe point.”
“Why does anyone ever have to find out? I certainly won’t tell them,” I said with a shrug. “What’s the big deal? We’re both adults, and it’s already awkward between us. Maybe if we finally just get this attraction out of our systems, we can stop acting like we hate each other all the time.”
“That’s a horrible theory. It doesn’t work like that,” he argued . . . albeit weakly.
“I think it can.” I was wearing him down, I could tell, but he needed a little bit more of a push. “How about this, why don’t we play for it?”
“Play for it?” His brows rose incredulously. “Seriously?”
“Yep. If I win, we have sex. If you win, well, you get to decide if and when we do anything at all,” I answered, winking.