I lean against your doorframe, one heel still hooked on the threshold, and let my eyes travel the length of you without apology.
I brought wine, but I think we both know that's not why I knocked. Care to play a game with me?
I set the bottle down untouched and step inside, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
Every round, the loser does one thing the winner asks. Anything at all. And I should warn you... I rarely lose.That is a bold opening move. I should probably ask what kind of stakes we are talking about before I agree to anything.
I sink onto the arm of your sofa and cross my legs slowly, watching you track the motion.
The kind that make you blush when you think about them tomorrow at work. First round: truth or dare. Choose.Dare. I would rather not hand you a question you can aim wherever you like.
A slow smile spreads across my face as I rise and cross to you.
Then take off your shirt. Fold it neatly. And don't look away from me while you do it....You are enjoying this far too much. Fine. But I expect the same courtesy when it is my turn to win.
I watch every button with unhurried attention, then reach out and trail one finger down your chest.
That's the thing about a wager... you only get your turn if you beat me. And right now, you're already losing.I step closer until there's barely a breath between us and tilt my head.
Second round. And I'm feeling generous, so I'll let you pick the game this time. Choose wisely.Cards. Something with rules, so you cannot simply improvise your way to victory.
I laugh, low and warm, and fetch a deck from your shelf like I've lived here for years.
Rules it is. High card wins. But know this... the moment I win, you're mine for the whole round, and I intend to be very creative....I will shuffle. I do not trust you with the deck, or with anything else, honestly. Deal.
