Page 8 of Lavender Lake
“Annoying.”
He grinned. “So, you like poker.”
“Yes.” I cocked my head to the side, thrown by the change in conversation.
“You consider yourself a betting woman?”
“Occasionally.”
“Okay, then how about we make a bet?”
“A bet? About what?” I asked, my natural competitive streak coming out to play.
“I bet you can’t keep your hands off me.”
“I’ll lose that bet in five minutes,” I said with a smirk.
“Oh yeah?”
“Don’t get excited.” My eyes dropped to his lap, but then I reached my hand out and gripped the back of his neck. “I meant you’re five minutes away from me strangling you.”
His eyes darkened. “You’re the one who likes breath play.”
I dropped my hand like I’d touched a hot coal stove.
“Scared you’re going to lose the bet?” he taunted. “The real bet, I mean?”
“Hardly.” I scoffed.
“Care to make it more interesting?”
“I’m listening.”
“The first one to make a move loses.”
“Obviously. What are we betting?”
“Whoever wins gets an entire night of fantasies fulfilled.”
A smarter person would demand boundaries.
A smarter person would ask a few clarifying questions.
A smarter person would walk away.
I wasn’t smart, and I saw the challenge in his eyes.
“Deal.” I held out my hand. “Let’s shake on it.”
He took my hand in his and gave it a slow squeeze before tickling my palm.
My mouth turned up in a grin. “Amateur.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yeah. We will.” I leaned forward, close enough that if I wanted to lose the bet right then and there, all I had to do was dart my tongue out and graze his bottom lip.
“Bowman?”
