Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
CHARLOTTE
“The room does have a minibar.”
His smile widens. “And whoever wins the game will end up paying for it. I like the way you think, Chaos.”
We head down the hallway in silence, toward the room we both have the keycards to. The gold numbers on the door are glossy, a contrast to the dark wood.
He scans his card and holds the door open for me. I step by him, into the space I had thought was mine for the night.
There’s a large bed in the middle of the room.
A desk in one corner. A two-seater sofa and a small armchair, as well as a television. And then the bathroom, off to the right, where we’d… met earlier. We both walk right past it.
And a large bed in the middle of the room. That fact now feels far harder to ignore. It’s giant, with plush white hotel linens and more pillows than could ever be used by the people meant to share it.
Aiden opens the minibar, while I sit down on the sofa. I stroke a hand over the soft fabric and try not to think too far ahead. I want to stay in the moment. Make a dumb decision.
I’m in my in-between state. I could be anyone I want for a night, and then get in the car tomorrow and move on.
Aiden hands me a few small bottles and takes a seat in the chair across from me. He looks larger here somehow. Takes up more space, the armchair disappearing beneath him. He’s a sharp contrast against the polished elegance of the room around us.
He deals the cards with strong hands. My gaze lingers over them. The long fingers, the broad backs. “Tell me something about yourself. I know almost nothing,” I say.
A smile ghosts across his lips. “You’re not one to talk. For a woman I’ve seen naked, I know nearly nothing about you.”
My breath hitches. “And that’s not the norm for you then, is it?”
“No,” he says and takes another sip of his drink. “It isn’t.”
This room is spacious. It’s a room with a private terrace, an upgrade from the standard room I’d booked. But it suddenly feels very small.
“In my defense,” I say, “it has been a very long day.”
His look turns wolfish. “I don’t think you need an excuse.”
I reach for my cards. “Not every place has… great water pressure.”
“I can imagine.” His eyes feel heavy on mine.
Heat rises through me under his gaze.
“It’s a shame I”—he shuffles through his cards before looking back at me—“interrupted you before you could finish.”
My fingers tighten around the cards. “It was a bit rude.”
“And unfair. As you pointed out earlier. I’ve seen so much of you, and you’ve seen nothing of me.”
“Not very sportsmanlike,” I say.
He shakes his head a little. “Not at all. Almost like we should up the ante a bit.”
“Winner still gets the room,” I say.
“Yes. Of course.” His fingers drum against the armrest, eyes on mine. “But let’s extend it a bit… best of nine rounds. Not five.”
I hide my smile. “Seems like you have nowhere else to be, either.”
“I do. I just need to win it first, like you.” He cocks his head. “Instead of questions… the loser of a round has to remove a piece of clothing.”
My heart stutters in my chest and then starts pounding. I cross a leg over the other and do my best to sound unbothered. “Sure. Why not?”
I’m wearing perfectly respectable underwear. I think. Black panties, right? Maybe gray. And the bra is one of my regulars.
It’ll have to do.
Both of our movements are faster now. It’s an unspoken thing. To speed it up.
He loses the next game. It’s harder to play smart the longer we keep drinking. And honestly, I’ve slipped more than a few times. He’s distracting. But I manage to come out on top this time again, and he curses softly when he reaches for his jacket.
“You’re good, Chaos.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
His lips curve into that half smile, and he shrugs out of the worn leather. He lets it fall to the floor behind him. He’s in a gray flannel shirt underneath, the two top buttons are undone. Tan skin and a hint of chest hair peek out from the open collar.
I slowly look down at my cards. He might be the most handsome man I’ve ever been with… if this night goes as planned.
We play in silence for a minute or two. Our game retains the same speed, our hands coordinated over the small coffee table.
Aiden looks at me as he waits for me to finish my turn. “Do you usually use a showerhead?”
I feel too hot. Too studied. But also like I’d die if he looks away. “No, it’s pretty rare. Sometimes my hands. Sometimes… my vibrator.”
“Do you have it with you?” His eyes have an almost predatory focus.
Everything I have and lived with in the last four months is in my two giant suitcases, and that includes the slim, black vibrator with a rounded tip. I know that’s what he wants to hear.
So I smile at him instead. “Why do you care?”
“Well,” he says, and the pause makes my heart stutter. “I find myself very invested in your orgasms.”
I have a ten and a five. They bleed together in front of my eyes, but I try to focus on them anyway. Blood rushes into my cheeks. It might not be enough. But drawing another card… would likely bring me over 21. So I don’t.
We lay down our cards, and I’m the one who’s lost. He’s got twenty.
Aiden leans back in his chair, and a small bottle of whiskey dangles from his fingers. It looks tiny in his hand.
“That’s very kind of you,” I say and reach for the hem of my sweater. I pull it over my head, knowing there’s nothing but a bra underneath. I hadn’t bothered digging around for a T-shirt or a camisole earlier.
I toss the garment away, letting it land on the bed. I sit back in the chair, bare from the waist up, aside from my plain black bra.
Aiden is very still across from me. Only his eyes roam over my body.
“Damn,” he mutters, and there’s wry amusement in his voice. “What a shame you lost.”
I swallow hard and reach for my cards. He’s handsome. Maybe not my usual type. Those guys are usually a bit younger, with messy lives and messier cars. Sharp tongues and nothing going for them.
This isn’t a guy. He’s a man, and he’s hardened and tall and broad in a way that I’m not used to. Speaks with command of both himself and others.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says and lifts his own cards. “I’ll make sure to lose and even the playing field.”
My eyes snap to his. “I’m not nervous, and you’re not throwing the game!”
His smile widens. “I knew I liked you, Chaos. All right, I won’t.”
But he loses anyway. I know it’s fair and square, though, because I play well. And he rolls his eyes as he reaches for the buttons of his flannel. He undoes them quickly, efficiently, and shrugs out of that piece of clothing, too.
I try my best not to ogle him.
I don’t succeed.
There’s an expanse of broad chest, hair in the center, and the outline of muscle in his pecs and stomach. Thick muscle, the kind that amplifies a man and speaks of years, if not decades, of good health. No vanity abs, but the hint of them, of true strength beneath.
He’s tan, too, and it’s only spring. This man likes to spend time outdoors. Expensive watch, though. Expensive taste in whiskey. And a penchant for poker.
“Hey,” he says. “My eyes are up here.”
I look away immediately, my cheeks burning.
Aiden chuckles darkly, and I roll my eyes. He’s got me. “Only fair,” he repeats and reaches for his cards. “Now we’re even.”
“We’re nowhere near even,” I grumble.
He chuckles again. This time, the deep rumble of his voice sends shivers down my spine. “That can be arranged.”
By the end of the next two games, neither of us has won two in a row. The room is still unclaimed, and both of us are in significantly less clothes. I opted for shimmying out of my pants, revealing my black panties. He watched me do it.
I’ve never been particularly shy about my body. Not for the last few years, anyway. I’d accepted my flaws and my strengths, and that it was my home, one worth taking care of.
But I still feel a frisson of unease, standing in nothing but my bra and panties in front of a man and knowing nothing other than his first name. Fear… and something else.
Excitement.
Aiden’s eyes move over me, his gaze darkening. For a few moments, neither of us speaks. The air has drawn tighter around us until it feels like it can be cut with a knife.
He looks at me for a long time and then, slowly, demonstratively, puts his cards down. I sink back onto the sofa across from him. There’s so much skin now. Less on him than on me, and I need to win another round to get him out of those pants.
“Charlotte,” he says.
I straighten. “Yeah?”
There’s a smile in his eyes, one that makes my stomach tighten. He leans in like he’s about to tell me a secret. “Let me make it up to you by helping you finish.”