Strong Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #1)(36)

“I love that you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” she defends.

Liar.

“Good. There’s no reason to be. It’s not like I haven’t already seen you naked.”

Cheeks turn redder, bottom lips gets bitten. “I know,” she replies, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Then you won’t mind making this interesting.” Emerald eyes fly up to mine again.

“What do you mean?”

“Strip poker. What do you say?”

She clears her throat and begins shuffling the deck. “Fine. Strip poker it is. Five-card draw. Jokers are wild.”

As she deals the cards, I notice the tremble of her fingers. Before I pick up my hand, I pick up my tumbler and hold it out toward her. “To animals and delicate sensibilities.”

“To poker and vodka.”

“To teeth prints and claw marks.”

At her third blush, I toss back my drink and pick up my cards.





TWENTY-ONE


Muse

I sputter at the burn of vodka searing its way down my throat. Within seconds, a pleasantly warm sensation erupts in my stomach. It’s no match for the heat coming from Jasper’s eyes, though. I doubt even the open flames that flicker in the fireplace just a few feet away could match the scorching intensity of his gaze.

I examine my cards, trying hard to concentrate on what I’m doing rather than the man sitting across from me. It’s incredibly difficult, though. I’m hyper aware of every glance in my direction, every movement, every sound. It all works together to tease my taut nerves, like fingers plucking the strings of a harp.

“So what’s going in the pot, kitten?”

“Kitten?” I ask.

“Yes, kitten.”

“Why kitten?”

“Because sometimes you’re a kitten. Like now.”

“And other times?”

The flames are perfectly reflected in the golden sparkle of Jasper’s eyes when he looks at me. They’re every bit as intoxicating as the vodka I just drank.

“Other times you’re a wild cat.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I’ve tasted it. And I’m dying to taste it again.”

My pulse is thrumming in my neck like the tick of an anxious finger, tapping against my skin.

“I guess I bet my shirt,” I say, disconcerted by this side of Jasper. He’s as unrelenting as the one I’ve spent the last few days with, only in a totally different way. A delicious way that makes my blood sing with anticipation. Anticipation and a little bit of fear. Not the kind that says he might hurt me. The kind that says he might hurt me in the best sort of way. The sort of way that will make my knees weak for the rest of my life.

“Brave little kitten, then,” he remarks. “I figured you’d go with shoes or socks first.”

I could kick myself. Why the hell didn’t I think of that? “Wait! I—”

“Ah-ah-ah. No changes. I’m in with my shirt, too.”

I clamp my mouth shut and glance back down at my cards. “How many do you want?” I ask Jasper.

“I’ll take two.”

I deal him two new cards.

I look back to my semi-pathetic hand and announce that I’ll take three, so I slide three from the top of the deck. The three new cards dramatically helped my chances of winning. I smother a smile, my heart pounding at the thought of Jasper stripping off his clothes in front of me.

“I’m in for my socks,” I say, upping the ante.

Jasper cocks one raven brow at me, amusement shining in his eyes. God, if he’s gorgeous in his dark, brooding state, he’s flat-out incredible in this one. “Then I’ll give you my pants.”

Hot flash!

I resist the urge to fan my face.

“Call,” I say.

I spread out my cards on the smooth wooden top of the table.

“Full house,” I announce with a smile.

“Damn,” Jasper whispers. Then with a wink that could melt the panties off a nun, he splays out his cards and mutters, “Four of a kind.”

My mouth drops open, whether because he just won and I have to strip or because I’ve never wanted to strip for someone so much in my life, I don’t know. All of a sudden, I can’t wait for him to touch me, for him to look at me with a passion in his eyes that blots out everything else in the world. I need that. I need him.

“Oh,” I say breathlessly. “I, uh, I guess I owe you some clothes, then, don’t I?”

I reach for the laces of one shoe, ready to give up my socks, but Jasper’s voice stops me.

“Wait. What are you doing?” he asks.

“You won. I’m paying up. Isn’t that how this works?”

“Not in my game,” he replies. His voice is a low growl, his eyes never more tigerlike. Stalking. Predatory. Ravenous.

I watch as Jasper rolls forward onto his hands and knees and crawls around the front of the table toward me. I don’t speak. I don’t move. I just take him in, frozen in place by the sheer want I see on his face.

“In my game, the winner gets to take his winnings. Like any real winner would.”

Take his winnings. Sweet God, he’s going to strip me!

Long, strong fingers wind around my ankle and tug. In one slow, smooth motion, he drags me toward him, his eyes never leaving mine.