Page 90 of The Most Perfect Wrong

I laugh with her. Damn, my cheeks hurt from all the laughing today. “Alright then, enlighten me. What should I say?”

“Cock.” She says it low and seductive, with a mischievous smile, biting her bottom lip just to drive the point home. “You say cock, Ryan. That’s what a woman wants to hear.”

Damn.

And just like that, mycocktwitches. She gets me going way too easily. We’ve been playing games for over an hour now—starting with Monopoly, then Trouble (a blast from the past),and then, of course, I dominated her in chess. I’m having so much fun, I almost forgot why she’s really here. “Well, go get the cards.” I say, nodding toward the game closet, daring her.

She cocks a brow. “You’re serious?”

I lean back, crossing my arms. “Dead serious. Unless you’re scared of losing.” I say casually, loving the way this pushes her buttons. I’d never actually take it too far—not yet, anyway.

She narrows her eyes. “Oh, I’m not scared. Just making sure you’re ready to be cock out at the dinner table.”

I laugh as she eyes me down, and I can’t help but watch as she walks to the game closet. Don't even get me started on her ass in those leggings. Every time she stands to get something? Hell, I’m hard just thinking about it.

She returns to the table, sitting down with a confident smile, and hands me the deck of cards. “I look forward to watching you manhandle your cock, Ryan. I’m not going easy on you.”

I chuckle. “Oh, we’ll see about that, babe. Five-card draw or hold’em?”

“Five-card.” We lock eyes, challenging each other, both trying not to burst into laughter.

“So, what’s the deal? Do we bet with clothing, or does the loser just take something off?” I ask.

“I think the loser just takes something off.” She smirks, giving me a slow once-over. “You’ll be naked in about three hands.”

I glance down at what I’m wearing and shrug, dealing the cards. I get absolute shit—no face cards, no pairs—just junk. I swap out four cards and end up with basically the same damn thing.

She grins wickedly, as she lays down two of a kind. “Do you seriously only have a shirt, pants, and underwear?”

I grin back, even though I know I’m fucked. “Yep.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Alright. Show me what you got, big boy.”

I make a face. “Don’t say big boy… That’s gross. Not sexy.”

She giggles. “Really? I was trying it on for size.”

I shake my head, chuckling. “Nope. Doesn’t work.”

“It’s not a vibe?”

“Definitely not a vibe.”

She presses her lips together, trying to hide the cutest damn smile. “Alright, let’s see it, Ryan.”

“Prepare to strip, woman, because I have,” I pause for dramatic effect. “Absolute shit,” I say, tossing my cards down and grabbing the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. I roll it up into a ball and toss it at her. “Fuck.”

She laughs, her eyes roaming over me, and I feel that familiar heat between us. “Hmm. I think I like this game.” Her gaze lingers, and she lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “Goddamn. Who looks like that?”

She loses the next round, and removes…a ring. Then a necklace. And then, an earring.

I lose again. “Dammit, Cooper, if I’d known you’d stacked up with all this jewelry, I’d never have agreed to this,” I say, chuckling.

“Woo hoo. Let’s see those boxers, big boy.” I give her a look, and she grins, unfazed. “I’m keeping ‘big boy.’ Now, come on, don’t be shy.” She waves her hands up and down, gesturing for me to stand.

With an exaggerated sigh, I stand proudly and peel off my joggers, crumpling them into a ball with mock frustration before tossing them her way.

She does a little victory dance while I’m left standing here like a jackass in my underwear.

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