"Maybe I'll start with my socks."
"Oh no. I took off my shirt, so you have to do the same."
"I don't think that's in the rules."
He rolls his eyes. "Stripping isn't in the rules, full stop. Now take off your shirt, Sam. Please."
"Well, since you said please…" I slowly unbutton my shirt while his gaze tracks the movements of my fingers. He licks his lips when I've unhooked the last button. I peel my shirt off and toss it onto the coffee table. "Satisfied?"
"Not yet. But I will be later." He lifts his gaze to mine. "When I'm fucking you again after I've won this tournament."
"Competitive, aren't you?"
"Not usually." He puckers his lips while he studies his cards. "Give me all your sevens."
Damn. I have a seven. That means I won't get to see more of Ben until it's my turn again. I hand the card over, and he smiles with smug satisfaction. He only won the hand, not the game. But he's so darn cute when he's trying to beat the socks off me, literally. I start losing hands on purpose just for an excuse to remove more of my clothing, and I suspect Ben might be doing the same thing since he asks if I have sixes when he must realize he's already given me as many as there are in the deck. He must know I've done the same thing.
Yeah, we're having way too much fun making each other strip. Who cares? This is a vacation for both of us, and we deserve to have a good time.
But my thoughts keep circling back around to the hot tub.
Chapter Nine
Ben
By the time we're out of cards, Sam has won the game. I'm naked, but she still has her knickers on, which seems unfair. Sure, she's about ninety-seven percent naked, but I wanted to get her to one hundred percent. Of course, I've seen her nude body before. But I guess it's my hidden competitive streak rearing its head and demanding I do something to remedy the situation and get her to take off those skimpy little knickers.
They're pink lace, naturally.
"Are you obsessed with pink?" I ask. "I would've expected you to have pink walls in here, and pink kitchen utensils."
"Ha-ha. I'm not obsessed. I like pink, that's all. For clothing only, though. Well, that and my snowmobile."
"I see." My gaze returns to her groin and those blasted knickers that hide the part of her I want to fondle and kiss. "We need to have another tournament, so I can get you to take off your underwear."
"You'd lose, buddy. I'd wipe the floor with you again."
She probably would. I don't care as long as I can get her completely naked. Desperation turns me into a liar. "In England, it's the custom for the loser in a game of cards to get one request. The winner can't deny it, no matter what the request is."
The girl I need to shag again laughs at me. "You are so full of it, Ben. I don't believe for one second that Brits have a rule like that."
"Maybe it's only the Brits who live in Cockshire that have a rule about card games."
"Uh-huh. Still not buying it."
Her gaze drops to my groin—to my cock, actually. It is rousing, thanks to her. Yes, it's Sam's fault I'm getting an erection. She shouldn't be mostly naked while teasing me. I can't help the fact that her attention on that part of me makes my body respond.
Yes, all right, I'm having the best time of my life here in a cabin in the woods in New Hampshire. The woman mocking me is the reason for that. I don't want to go home, not only because "home" means going back to Mithoria, but also because I love being here with Sam.
She rises onto her knees and waddles toward me until her pink lace knickers hover inches from my face. "There's a simple solution to the problem."
"You're referring to the issue of your knickers."
"Mm-hm." She rocks her hips forward, pushing her groin closer to my face. "Tear them off, Ben."
"Tearing fabric isn't as easy as they make it look in movies. Believe me, I've tried it."
"You've tried to rip a woman's underwear off?"