Page 88 of Lucky In Love

“Wanna play a game?” Lucky asked with a grin.

He narrowed his eyes on her, suspicious of that grin, but he wasn’t going to back down from whatever challenge she was about to issue him. “Let’s do it.”

Lucky grabbed one of the empty shot glasses and set it in the middle of the cleared space of the table between them. She held out a hand to him, palm up, and said, “Quarter.”

Crash reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a handful of change. After retrieving a quarter, he put the rest back in his pocket and handed the requested coin to Lucky.

“Okay. Low-consequence questions. We’ll take turns. If you make the quarter in the glass, you get to ask the question and I answer. If you miss, you take a shot and have to answer a question the other asks.”

“What if I don’t want to answer?” Crash asked. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t tell her, but he wanted all the rules before he headed down this road.

“Shots, of course,” she replied, as if it was obvious.

Crash chuckled and turned to wave to the bartender. When he got his attention, he shouted for a bottle of Jack. He was already feeling loose, but there was no way he was ready to call it a night. He was having too much fun with Lucky. Although he was looking forward to the grand finale of their perfect off-the-cuff date, Crash wanted them both to get as much out of it as they could.

Once the bartender dropped off the bottle and brought Crash his tab so he could cash out, making it very clear that they wouldn’t be getting any more drinks from him, Lucky and Crash started their little game.

Lucky bounced the quarter off the table, and it clinked as it landed in the shot glass. She grinned as she looked over at him.

Crash narrowed his eyes at her and smiled back. “Why do I have a feeling I was just lured into a trap?”

“I get to ask the question, not you.” She fished the quarter out of the glass and twirled it between her fingers. “Thunderstorms or snowstorms?”

His head jerked back at the ridiculousness of the question. It was not what he expected her to ask. He wasn’t sure what he expected to come from her mouth, but a weather preference question was not it. Chuckling at the absurdity, he scratched at the edge of the facial hair on his cheek and answered, “Uh… Well, that’s a good question. Alone? Thunderstorms, because there’s something soothing about listening to the rain and the thunder. With you? Snowstorms, because that would imply that it was cold and there would be a need for cuddling.”

“We could cuddle during a thunderstorm,” she replied.

He felt the need to purr out loud, but he swallowed it down and cleared his throat. “I’d like to amend my answer. Definitely thunderstorms.”

The satisfied smirk on her face had his jeans getting a bit too tight again. He ignored it as he watched her rest her elbow on the table, fold her wrist back, and hold out the quarter to him, held between her pointer and middle fingers.

Wanting her to feel just as turned on as he was, he bent forward and opened his mouth. Extending his tongue, he used it to pull the quarter slowly from her fingers into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with her. The gasp she gave as his tongue dragged against the sides of her fingers was beyond satisfying. He held the quarter between his teeth and nabbed it with his own fingers.

“My turn.” He bounced the quarter off the table and watched as the coin hit the rim of the shot glass, spun, and slid off the side, landing on the tabletop. “Fuck.”

Lucky giggled as she grabbed the bottle of bourbon and poured him a shot in another glass. Handing it over to him, she asked, “Cake or pie?”

Crash threw the shot back. Once the warm liquid worked its way down his throat and settled in his gut, he replied, “What kind of question is that? Dessert is dessert.”

She shrugged and nodded. “Fair.” Then she nabbed the quarter and bounced that fucker off the table and landed it right inside the damn shot glass.

“What in the hell is this magic you possess, woman?” Crash demanded.

Laughing harder, she answered, “I’m Irish, biker boy. My granddaddy thought teaching me quarters was quality time when I was eight. Obviously, he didn’t give me liquor. We used apple juice, but still.” Fishing out the quarter, she bit her lip and looked up as if she was contemplating her next question.

“I walked into a damn trap. I knew it.”

“Suck it up, buttercup.” She sat back in her chair and rested her feet on his thigh, one ankle crossed over the other. “Reverse cowgirl or doggy-style?”

Crash damn near choked on his own tongue at her question. He cleared his throat again, then he ran his fingers through his hair as he chuckled and tried his best not to picture the dark-haired bombshell across from him in either of those positions. “Uh… I’m not averse to either, but if I had to choose… doggy-style. Although, I prefer to see my woman’s face as I’m fucking her.”

“No any-pussy-will-do in your world?”

He shrugged. “I hang with bikers. Of course there is. There just isn’t for me. I’m… selective.”

“Noted.” The twinkle was back in her eye, but it was from something altogether different from humor, and Crash couldn’t wait to explore it further. He considered ending their little game and heading back to the hotel, but she handed over the quarter and gave him a smile. The curl of her lips made him put off the idea for a little longer. He liked making her look like that.

Taking the quarter, he tried again, and somehow, he managed to sink it. “Nice. Shit. I have to ask a question.”

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