by Zoey Parker
“So it's just strip poker.”
“Well...” She wasn't reacting the way he thought she might: a little offended, irritated, mildly aroused. “Yeah. Basically.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “And here I thought this was going to be a big deal.”
He laughed. His hands went down to his ankles, pulling away the socks he had on. He said that they didn’t count, but he didn’t even get to finish his sentence before she broke away in giggles.
She raised a foot at him, and then the other. “I don't have any socks. I don't have any clothes other than this, actually. I don’t have anything here, in case you hadn’t noticed. Including any food I want to eat.” Harsh, maybe, but she needed to get the point across. It had already been long enough.
He just smiled at her, though, and she couldn’t get in his head to figure out what he was thinking. “We'll deal with that after the game,” he said.
“And you’re going to tell me about what you’ve been up to,” she countered.
He winked.
She winked back.
The stakes weren’t high, really. They didn’t have much going for them. And...
“There's not any chips,” Victoria said.
They were only maybe two rounds into the game before Victoria said something about it. They weren’t playing for money, just for information. Still, though, Victoria didn’t like that they had no chips. It wasn’t right.
“We don't really have anything we can do about it.”
“Yes, we do. Wait here.” Victoria stood up and went back to the bookshelves. This was going to be a mess, but at least it’d be something.
She grabbed the small journal she’d seen earlier. Flipping the book open, she grabbed a page from it and then returned to the couch she was sitting on earlier. Darren was looking at her quizzically, but she didn’t even bother turning to him. It was imperative that she do this, that things be made better by this.
But she couldn’t let it all fall to the floor. She held up the paper as best she could, and then ripped it clean in half. And then she did it again, and again, until there were a bunch of little pieces scattering the table. Hitting them with the flat of her hand, she pushed them so the majority were in the center of the table, by the stack of cards, and then gave some to Darren. She was sure to leave a reserve for herself as well.
“You're supposed to bet,” she said.
He raised his eyes at her. “These are scraps of paper.”
“They can represent what we're actually betting.”
The game progressed fast. The rules of it weren’t exactly what Victoria was expecting. While she knew about strip poker, she’d never actually played it, and Darren seemed to want to play it with a twist. Some of it was normal poker. Every third hand or so, though, each of them pulled a card out. Whoever had the lower denomination had to give up a piece of their clothing.
The game progressed fast, but not very far. Victoria was more than aware of how much clothing she had: just four pieces. She had on her bottoms, her top, her bra, and her underwear. That was it. Even if she’d worn socks, Darren had already said they didn’t count; she wondered if she should wish for a sweater, but she loved the temptation of it, of everything she was doing with Darren.
And Darren, she knew, had even less clothing. He was just wearing jeans and a shirt. He might not even be wearing boxers, but it wasn’t like she could ask.
She put down two cards, waiting for him to call out what he was going to do. He’d put down his cards first, and she was in the habit of watching his eyes to try to figure out exactly he was thinking.
They continued their game, each throwing down cards and watching the other. They folded, they bet. Victoria drew two cards and misread them. Her misplaced confidence was revealed as soon as she threw them down, and Darren’s perfectly blank expression rose up into a smirk.
“Royal flush,” he proclaimed.
They both looked at the cards together.
“You know the rules.”
She sighed. She wanted to argue with him, but she also wanted to show him her skills, and her skin. Her hands went to the bottom of her shirt, by her hips. Kind of like where he’d started to touch her earlier, before they’d both pulled away from the other. She stopped her hands at the fabric, looking up for a second before deciding what needed to be done.
Then, taking in a quick breath and ignoring the speed of her heart beat, she took off her shirt. She felt his eyes roam over her, and then they stopped where she expected. But she kept her hands up over her head for a second, letting him look.
Then her arms fell back to her side and she resumed the game. She was just playing in a bra. That was all. Never mind the fact that Darren was staring at her. But it was working to her advantage. She drew two more cards, and looked towards Darren just in time to see a tell.
His arms looked like they were getting more tense, and she watched that tension move from his arms to his shoulders to his neck. There it rose up from his neck to his face, and she saw the barest twitch of his lips. He had a bad hand.
So she didn’t fold.
And when they checked their cards against what they’d originally drawn, it had the outcome Victoria was expecting – she was the victor.
“Are you expecting me to take my shirt off?”
She laughed at him, giggling out an “obviously,” before adding, “You owe my some other things too.”
It took him less time to get his shirt off than it had taken for her to do it, but it took her more time to get back to normal after seeing his skin. She thought that maybe Darren was still staring at her, but she couldn’t get over the chiseled muscles of his chest. And she’d even seen it before. Her skin had been new to him; why couldn’t she get over this?
She coughed to try to avoid what she was thinking. “And?”
“And? What more do you want from me, woman?” He laughed, and she struggled not to laugh too. Another small giggle fell out, though, and that just got an even bigger smile from the man.
“I want to know what you were doing when you left me here by myself.” She fisted her hands at her sides, trying not to touch him. It was so hard not to. She could easily put her hand on his shoulder, or drag it down to poke him in the thigh. Or worse.
She could tell by the look on his face that he was thinking about not telling her. He finally did.
“I was in a hiding space.”
“What?”
“A hiding space.”
“Just repeating what you said doesn't help me figure out what you meant, Daniel,” she said.
“You full-named me!” he exclaimed. After another pause, he said, “The safe house has some secret spaces I haven’t shown you. Places people can hide in...” He trailed off.
She knew where he was going with that general direction. As happy and warm as she was feeling right now sitting here with him, there was still the fact that someone wanted her or him or both of them murdered. And she didn’t want to ask too many questions just yet; he was barely telling her things, and she didn’t want to risk the chance of scaring him off. So she waited for him to continue, leaning in just barely closer when he started speaking again.
“I was on the phone with an old friend,” he continued. “Sullivan.” He looked at her for a second, recognizing the way her eyebrows crinkled in confusion at the name. “You wouldn’t know him.”
“So anyway, I wanted to know his thoughts on all this.” He waved his hand around in the air, as if presenting something to her. Victoria couldn’t figure out what it was, but she went with it anyway. “Scores need to be settled. You know what I mean?”
She didn’t. She nodded anyway. He could explain it later, and she didn’t think she’d be able to make sense of any his club crap right now anyway. It was stupid to get involved in that stuff, and she was sure whatever was going on was equally as stupid too.
He smiled. “Good. So, I called him and asked about some debts that haven’t been paid off. Looked for possible grudges to be
had.” She looked at his hands while he talked. He moved them a lot. His touch kept going back to the cards, and she could barely register what he was saying. Eventually, he noticed, and he smiled at her and then shut up.
So they kept playing the game, and he promised her he would show her everything later. And even though he meant in the safe house, Victoria hoped he meant something else.
Chapter Thirteen
Victoria
He must have.
More time had gone by since they'd talked about whatever was going on in the outside world. But it was easy enough to detach themselves from the fear of that club, and just sit in the warmth of the safe house and be two people together. But it wasn’t a normal situation at all, even excluding the fact that both of them were at risk of being killed.
Victoria only had her underwear guarding her dignity. One of her arms was draped around her chest, hiding her nipples from view.
Darren had his boxers – he had been wearing them after all – but that was it. This round of cards would determine who was naked first.
Victoria tried not to shake as she examined her cards. She looked through what she held in her hand, trying to guard it from him. She couldn’t give away a tell like Darren had earlier. Whoever won this hand was going to be naked, and she wanted it to be him.
She looked at what she had in her hand. It wasn’t the best, but she had a king and a queen, and then a couple other mixed numbers. She chose the king and the queen. That was the best she had, and she doubted he had any better.
He didn’t.
They put the cards down, and she could immediately see that he knew what he had to do.
Her voice came out higher than she intended it to. “Why do you look so pleased?”
He didn’t say anything. She expected him to just start taking off his boxers, or maybe delay it so he could act like a stripper and make her even more flustered. He did none of those things.
Turning his body so he faced her, he reached over like he was about to touch her. She didn’t even think of moving away; everything inside her wanted to get closer to him. Nonetheless, his torso touched her before she knew what was happening.
And then he was pushing down on her.
There were so many emotions running through her and she wasn’t sure on what she should focus on first. The pressure of the couch behind her was hard against her, even as her body started to sink more into the plush cushions. Darren was hard against her, his body pressing down on hers. She couldn’t get any further into the couch.
She felt her breath catch in her throat, thinking about what all of this meant. There was no way this was an accident, and there was no way she was going to say something that would make this end. She was about to say something, anything, but there was no reason for her to touch him with just words.
Her hands went to his back, dropping down to the small of it. She couldn’t help it; she reached for his boxers, trying to pull them down without making him think that she was desperate for his cock. But everything in her was shaking, and she wanted him.
And he knew it, too, and he wasn’t going to wait. It didn’t matter that they barely knew anything about each other, and that this might not mean anything to her in a while’s time, or so he feared, at least. It meant something to the both of them now.
His hand went to her jaw. He lifted her face up to his, and then he crushed his mouth to hers.
Their lips pressed against each other’s hard, both of them trying to hold onto the kiss. Their lips slipped against one another’s before they finally got a hold of each other fully. His hand went from her jaw to the back of her neck, to her hair, where he pulled it up into a makeshift ponytail. The way he did that made her face him even more, and she wrapped a leg around his so there was no chance of her falling beneath him.
Not that falling was a risk. She just wanted him on top of her.
She could feel how hard his cock was even more now. She moved her mouth away from his, making her way to his neck. It was a struggle; his hand was still in her hair, but as she moved his grip loosened. She kissed his neck, making her way towards his shoulder.
And then he grabbed her hair again.
He yanked her hair up with just enough force to move her, but not enough to hurt her, so she had to stop what she was doing. She gasped, going back to looking at him, just in time to see his other hand go to her neck.
He pressed against her gently, and her legs started to shake at the choke. That’s when she realized that her arm was no longer covering her chest. Darren still held onto her neck, holding her still as his eyes roamed her chest. Her nipples were hard and pink and large, and he wanted them. He wanted her; he was going to do everything to her body that he possibly could, and she knew it.
One of his hands went to her chest. He grabbed one of her nipples, moving it and rolling it around between his forefinger and thumb. She closed her eyes at his touch, but then he started pinching her. Her eyes opened. His hand went from one breast to the other, and she sighed.
His hand at her neck had long since stopped pressing down. She barely noticed when both of his hands left her, though. She only realized long enough to miss his touch, and then the warmth of his breath was at her chest.
He took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking deeply as she held onto his back. It felt so good and he hadn’t even touched her where she yearned to be touched. She wrapped her other leg around him, trying to get closer, pressing herself up against the hardness of his cock.
He stopped her, planting a hand on her stomach in between them and continuing to kiss her. He bit and he licked and he sucked, and all she could do was moan.
She was powerless, and she loved it.
His kisses moved south, leaving her cleavage and dipping down towards her stomach. He left a trail of kisses there, biting her on the flesh there before focusing his attention on her hips. But that did nothing to hide what he was really doing. Both of his hands were at her panties. He grabbed the fabric between them, snapping it against her skin.
Then he started to pull them down, her protesting between her moans.
“You lost that round,” she said.
He stopped, her panties still on her.
“You're supposed to get naked first,” she explained.
Fair was fair, but he wasn't going to do it himself. He took one of her hands in his, bringing it to the bulge of his cock through his boxers. She blushed at the warmth, but she didn’t pull away. She pressed down on it, squeezing his length in her hands.
And then she pulled her hand up and away, snapping the band of his boxers like he’d just done to her panties. But she couldn’t wait. Her other hand joined her, and she pulled away his last scrap of clothing as quickly as she dared.
His boxers weren’t even fully off before his magnificent cock sprung free. It was thick and long, and so hard, and it was all for her. He was still in between her legs, waiting, but that stopped as soon as he was naked.
His hands ripped her underwear off of her, the wet fabric leaving her pussy desperate and soaked and bare. He looked at her again, and then he took her hand back. He didn’t need to bring it back, though. Her hand went to his cock freely, stroking from its tip to its full length. She could feel it pulse in her hand and she struggled not to beg him to push it inside her. His hand went to her, too, teasing her slit, and she prepared herself for the invasion of his fingers.
But it didn’t happen.
His hand went to his cock, too, and then his cock pressed to the wet line of her pussy. He dragged the head across her slit over and over again, leaving her a trembling ball of agony and arousal. His lips were at her shoulder, her neck, falling back to her breasts as he teased her. The hand that wasn't working on dragging his cock over her naked pussy was in her hair, drawing her neck back so none of her skin was safe from his lips, his kisses, his teeth.
It went on forever. Every time she thought he was going to enter her, he didn’t. He barely put the head into her once, and she prepa
red herself, imagining what it’d be like to be filled with that thick cock of his. Could she take it?
But then he’d pull away again, and her thighs squeezed together as her body cried for him to come back inside her. She was flushed, she was hot, she needed Darren.
Her teeth crushed together as she tried to keep from crying out, from begging for him to just fuck her. But that was what he wanted, and he told her so, whispering it in her ear as he bit down on her lobe gently.
Begging did nothing.
“Please,” the word came out tiny and full of need.
But he pulled his cock away from her, replacing it with his hand as his thumb stroked across her needy clit. He pushed a fingertip into her, but it wasn’t enough. The rest of his finger entered, quickly followed by another. And then, just as quickly as he’d entered, he pushed away.
