Page 53 of Pursuing Desire

In reality, my palms have gone sweaty, and my nerves have kicked up about a million percent. I’m about to be completely and utterly naked in front of Dax, the man who dates supermodels, actresses, and other women who are way out of my league. It was bad enough to be topless, but for some reason, losing my shorts feels more intimate.

For all the light banter coming from Dax, his shoulders are tense, and he seems on edge. He’s not as unaffected as he’d like to appear.

He stands up and undoes the button on his jeans. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was unfair. I had more clothing to lose than you. I’ll rectify that now.”

I step closer and hold up my hand in a panic. “No, really, it’s okay. You don’t need to take off your jeans.”

It’s too late. He’s sliding the jeans down his lean hips. When he’s done, he’s wearing nothing but boxers. He holds up his jeans and lets them drop to the floor in a misshapen heap, and looks at me expectantly. “I made it easy on you. I went first. Now it’s your turn.”

“Dax . . .”

“Go on. A bet is a bet,” he says.

The air-conditioning kicks on, and a cool breeze blows across my uncovered breasts, causing my nipples to harden. The reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by Dax. His eyes darken with an intensity that causes my entire body to go hot. My spine tingles, and the lightheaded feeling from earlier returns, stronger than before.

I put my hand on the waistband of my silk shorts. I know what’s going to happen if I take them off. Hell, I can’t lie to myself. I knew what would happen the moment I agreed to play this game. No one plays strip poker and then gets dressed again and just goes about their day. Why continue pretending I didn’t know where this would lead?

Something has shifted in both of us. The playfulness from earlier is forgotten, and in its place is a maelstrom of feelings I can’t ignore. I want him. He’s made it clear he wants me. We’ve been building up to this moment from the time we got into the car together. The sexual tension can only be ignored for so long.

It doesn’t matter that we don’t like each other. We want each other.

I pass the silk pajama bottoms ever-so-slowly over my hips. The fabric glides smoothly down and lands in a blanket of cool softness at my feet. The only thing left between us are my red panties and his boxers.

The thin fabric of his boxers isn’t hiding much. My palms itch to reach out toward him, but I’m scared to make the first move.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I ask breathily.

His mouth curls up enticingly. “No. The deal was for you to kiss me. And it needs to be a real kiss, if you recall the terms.”

My tongue darts out to my lips, and his hungry eyes follow the movement. I step closer and put my hands around his neck. He doesn’t move, doesn’t lean forward, doesn’t offer any assistance. I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips against his. I move against his lips and urge his mouth open. Slowly, so slowly, he opens his mouth, and his tongue eases into my mouth. He takes his time lazily exploring as my tongue intertwines with his.

My hands tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. The scent of evergreen from his shampoo invades my senses as I run my fingers through his soft, silky strands.

He has a tight rein of control over himself. I feel his hands on my hips, urging me closer. Close, yet not touching. It’s as though he wants to hold himself back.

I break contact, and I lean back to look at him. He returns my stare through his half-lidded gaze.

“Does this satisfy our bet?” I ask.

“Not even close.”

I tilt my head to the side and look at him quizzically. “The bet was for a real kiss. You don’t consider that a real kiss? I’m not sure how much more real I can make it.”

He grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Babe, you should’ve asked the definition prior to making the bet. Now, you’re going to have to find out the hard way.”

Goosebumps rain over my arms from the anticipation his words cause. I don’t know what he means by hard way, but I’m guessing I’ll find out.

“We aren’t supposed to be kissing at all, if you remember our deal when we first started out on the trip.”

“We aren’t supposed to be fucking either, but that’s going to happen, too.”

“Says who?” I ask unsteadily, heat coursing through my veins.

“Says you.”

My hands move to his shoulders, and I squeeze lightly. “I never said I was sleeping with you. In fact, maybe I won’t sleep with you at all, cocky bastard.”

“No one said anything about sleeping. In fact, with the way I’m feeling right now, I don’t think I’m going to allow you to sleep at all tonight,” he growls next to my ear.