Hitched (Hitched #1)(28)

Sebastian stands with his hand on my lower back, silent as I take in the room. "You did all this for me?"

He kisses my head. "Anything for you."

He puts my bag on the couch and offers me the champagne, which I take, sipping on it. "So, the plan tonight is to eat until we both have to be rolled out of the house?"

"The plan is to get to know each other. Creatively."

I follow his eyes to something I didn’t notice before. Two stacks of playing cards, but not the normal kind. "What's this?"

"Our game for the night."

We sink into the pillows, and I pluck a strawberry out of the bowl and dip it into whipped cream. "Do you have more of this? It could come in handy."

"Oh it will." He smiles seductively as I lick the cream off the fruit.

As I finish the strawberry, he leans into me, licking a bit of cream off my lower lip as he kisses me. "You taste sweet," he says.

"I am sweet," I say, smiling with fake demureness.

"Which is why you're going to be my dessert." He smiles wickedly. "Later."

I inhale sharply, his delicious scent playing with my nose as I imagine his tongue doing delicious things to my body.

He picks up two dice and hands them to me. "First, we role to see who goes first in our little game. Ladies first."

I roll an eight. He takes the dice and clicks them around in his hand, then lets them go. Ten.

"You cheated," I say, smiling.

"You caught me," he says, raising his arms in the air. "I'm a professional poker shark. These are weighted."

"So, how does this game work?"

His eyes glint mischievously as he holds the deck out to me. "Draw a card and ask me the question on it. If I answer incorrectly, I have to draw a card from this deck," he points to the other set of cards still lying on the rug, "and do what the card says to do. If you answer incorrectly, you have to draw a card and do what it says. And if one of us answers correctly, the other person draws a card and follows the instructions."

"Sounds simple enough. What kind of questions are these?" I ask as I draw the first card.

"Personal ones," he says.

I look down at my hand and smile. There's no way he's going to get this answer correct. "What was the name of my first grade teacher?"

He exaggerates a thinking expression, finger tapping his jaw and then snaps his fingers. "Mrs. Brandy. And you once said your dad likes brandy, and the whole class laughed, and your teacher turned red and gave you time out."

My jaw drops. "How the f*ck do you know that?"

"I have my ways. Draw a card, my dear."

I do and read what it says. "Kiss your partner anywhere on their body for three seconds."

He holds his arms out wide. "I'm all yours. Pick a spot, darling."

I roll my eyes at him and then grab his hand, planting my lips on it to the count of three. "Done. Your turn."

He looks at his hand and frowns. "I think you need help understanding the point of this game." He picks a card and reads his question. "What's my favorite color?"

His cobalt blue eyes are laughing at me. Damn this man. I mentally review the clothes I've seen him in, the decor of his house and anything else I can remember from the times I've spent with him while not drunk. "Red," I guess.

He smiles. "That's correct. What gave me away?"

"Your ties," I tell him, holding out the naughty deck, as I'm now calling it. "They all have bold splashes of red in them."

"Good eye, darling. I guess I have to draw."

He reads the card silently before speaking. "Pick an exposed spot of skin on your partner's body and get creative."

He looks me over, his eyes hungry. My arms, parts of my legs, my neck, face… there are many parts for him to “get creative” with, and I wait, breath tight, as he decides what he's going to do and where he's going to do it.

Slowly he lifts my hand from my lap, exposing the inside of my wrist. First, his thumb caresses the soft skin, sending shivers through my body; then he brings it to his lips. I can feel his breath first, hot and enticing, then his lips brush against the thin blue veins under my pale skin. When his teeth graze that same spot, biting gently into flesh, I nearly come undone. He ends with a kiss and places my hand back into my lap. "A little taste of what's to come," he says, his voice deep.

I try to keep my cool, to pretend that his touch, his teeth, his kiss, didn't just light a fire inside me that will be impossible to extinguish, but I'm sure I fail miserably.

I draw the next card. "Where was I born?"

"Mansfield, Ohio," he says without a pause. How the hell does he know these things?

He sees the question in my eyes and laughs. "We shared a lot the night we married," he says. "I happen to remember it all."

And I don't. That puts me at a distinct disadvantage.

I pull a card since he got the answer correct. "Have your partner close their eyes and do something titillating to them."

He closes his eyes while I consider what “titillating” thing I should do. I decide to keep it simple. I lean in and first run a finger gently across his lower lip, then I bring my face closer to his, brushing my lips against his, teasing open his mouth with my tongue. I make the kiss delicate, sensuous, as tortuous as I can without giving him everything, while I run a fingernail lightly down his neck.