Page 11 of No Take Backs
For no other reason than the smile on her face. Her blond hair is wrapped in a simple braid, hanging over one shoulder. The light coming from her room along with the streetlights create a halo around her head that makes her appear almost ethereal. Not for the first time since I’ve seen her, I’m more than happy that no one else can read my mind.
“Hello, earth to Josh? I think that’s what Charlie called you at least.” She waves a hand in front of my face and snaps her fingers. “Are you in there? Or did I just walk in on you having second thoughts about taking a stranger out for a drink? Are you running away?”
Do I tell her that my dick is harder than a nail, pressed against my jeans, just begging to be let out? Or that I want to walk her into her hotel room and fuck her until neither of us can see straight?
No.
“I don’t do anything that I’ll regret in the morning,” I say with a half smile. “And yeah, my name is Josh. Josh Harmon. Nice to meet you…” I don’t say anything else because I don’t actually have her name.
“Nia. It’s nice to meet you too, Josh.”
Before things get awkward, I motion to the truck. “You wanna get that drink?”
She smiles broadly, and then I watch the devious look take over. “We could.” She pauses. “Or we could grab a few drinks and then play some poker.” She nods toward room 222.
Poker and drinks win out over my initial plan of taking her out for a drink. Faced with the option of Nia, alone in a hotel room with me and a deck of cards, I can’t say no. Which is probably how I end up almost naked while she still has on all her clothes an hour later as we play what turns into strip poker.
Her hotel room is immaculate, and I don’t even notice a suitcase or any sort of personal belongings, which surprises me since Nia said she’s here for the weekend. While she is lying on her stomach, using her arms and a well-placed pillow to hold her up, I stare at her chest and the cleavage from her shirt every chance I get, because I’m not sure if she’ll move and cover herself up at any moment. Her hair hangs forward, some of it having escaped her braid, and my mind keeps drifting to thoughts of it wrapped around my hand as I take her from behind.
“I think you’re a lot better at poker than you’re letting on,” I say after our third round, where she’s somehow managed to bluff her way into me taking off my shirt so that all I’m left in is my unbuttoned pants.
Nia’s sultry laugh fills the air around us, and it isn’t the little bit of alcohol I’ve had that puts the smile on my face while I look at her. It’s everything about her. Her scent. The way she smiles, like she has a secret that she is keeping from the rest of the world. It is the way she is more innocent than anyone else I’ve ever met, but dirtier, too. She is a contradiction wrapped in a blanket of desire aimed straight at my dick. My dick that literally hasn’t stopped throbbing since I first saw her tonight.
“I think you’re just bad at cards.” Nia taps the cards in her hand. “Either that or you just want to show off your body to get me naked.”
The playful edge to her words cuts through the sass and the insinuation that I’m trying to get her naked. “I thought you were the one to suggest strip poker.” I pick up my beer and take a small swig, watching the way her eyes follow my hands.
Another thought, this one of what I can do with a piece of ice on her skin, comes unbidden into my mind, and my mouth goes dry.
Her nipples would be so responsive to the cold.
“If you remember correctly, this wasn’t my idea.” Nia laughs and pulls my beer out of my hand. “I tried to invite you over to mess up the bed, without buying me a drink first.” She stares at my naked chest while drinking the beer she stole. “You can concede anytime you want.”
My mouth waters, thinking about every single thing I can possibly do to her, given the amount of time we still have throughout the night and into the next morning.
“One more hand?” I make the offer, keeping my eyes locked on hers, the challenge simple and everything that we both want. “Winner takes all?”
“Oh.” Nia smiles. “Now things are getting interesting.”
5
NIA
I really consider bluffing, pretending that my hand is garbage, just to keep the game going a little longer. But when the first three cards are flipped, any thought of playing it cool flies right out the window. The moment I see that I’ve got a royal flush, I know Josh doesn’t stand a chance. A thrill runs through me, not just at the prospect of winning, but at the look I know is coming on his face.
“Royal flush,” I announce, letting the words roll off my tongue with a mischievous lilt. I can’t help the impish smile that spreads across my face as I stare unashamedly at his lap, where his pants are already unbuttoned from the last round. “If winner takes all, does that mean you have to leave naked?” The words are out before I can stop them, playful and teasing, but almost immediately, I regret it. Not because I don’t want to see him naked, but because the idea of him leaving now, of this night ending before I’ve had a chance to explore whatever this is between us, makes my heart sink.
It’s crazy, really. We’ve only spent a few hours together, but in such a short time, I feel like I’ve peeled back more layers with this stranger than I ever have with the friends I’ve known for years back in Birch Harbor. There’s something about him that makes me want to open up, to share parts of myself I usually keep hidden. And the thought of losing that connection, of him walking out that door, is more unsettling than I care to acknowledge.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t even notice him standing up, his tall frame casting a shadow over the bed. It’s only when I hear the unmistakable sound of his zipper sliding down that my brain snaps back to attention. My eyes zero in on his hands, the way they move with practiced ease, undoing his pants with a casual confidence that makes my breath hitch. My mouth goes dry, or maybe it’s watering. I can’t quite tell because all I can focus on is the slow, unintentional striptease unfolding right in front of me. The way his muscles ripple under his skin as he moves, the teasing glimpse of skin just below his waistband, it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.
I’m imploding and there’s no relief in sight.
“Guess what?” My words stop him, and I think about how stupid it is that I don’t let him finish before saying something.
“What?” His eyes are on mine, the heat in them practically singeing me from across the room. “Don’t tell me you’re ready for another hand.”
“No.” I glance at the cards on the bed and then back at him with a raised eyebrow. “Did you intentionally lose? Just so you’d be able to strip down?”