9. Santa’s naughty list
Chapter 9
Santa’s naughty list
Skye
Phin was a shark.
At first I thought I was losing just because I didn’t know what I was doing. Since we were playing for Monopoly money—Oscar had limited his destruction to the board—it wasn’t costing me. But even though I’d been digging freely into the bank resources, all the money was piled up in front of Phin.
I should have expected him to be stupidly competitive. All the boys had been when we were growing up. And he played a sport for money, which wouldn’t be the case if he didn’t have a lot of drive. I guess I thought he’d be more polite. But a perverse part of me liked that he didn’t take it easy on me. I’d never wanted to be babied, probably because I’d been the youngest.
I shot a glance at him, focused on his cards. He’d thrown off his coat and his shoulders were broad. Strong. There were scars on his hands, but his fingers were long, deft with the cards. What else would they be good at?
This was not good.
We had a distraction when Oscar and Riley came back. Good to interrupt my weird fascination with Phin. They had news that the crews were working, but it could still be tomorrow before we got out. I should have been disappointed, but somehow I wasn’t.
They threw us some water and sandwiches. Once we were back in the cottage, we’d augmented them with a bottle of really nice red wine we’d found in a cupboard.
The wine was nice. But I was getting tired of poker. Bored with losing. Done with being cold. Restless and antsy.
I threw down my cards. “That’s enough poker for me.”
Phin blinked at me, then looked down at the cards. “Really?” He dropped his cards on the coffee table. “Can I see what you have?”
I crossed my arms. “Do you have a problem, Phin?”
“I don’t like gambling.” When I snorted, he continued. “Not like, it gives me a rush. I don’t care about slots or roulette or craps—I just like the game of poker. The competition.”
“Well, I’ve lost every hand and I’d like to play something else.”
He leaned over to look in the box. “Not sure what else we have.”
“Oh, we can play cards. Just not poker.”
The afternoon was getting dark, and we hadn’t heard any indication that the power crews were here yet.
He leaned back and stretched, shirt pulling up to expose drool-worthy abs.
Bad Skye. “I’m going to take a break, walk around, use the bathroom, and then we can play my choice.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’ll see.” I stood, and swore he was checking me out as I walked away. Maybe I wasn’t the only one going on Santa’s naughty list. Something was buzzing in my veins at the thought, and I didn’t think it was the wine.
When I returned, he’d uncorked a second bottle and pulled some potato chips out of his grocery bag. I picked up the wine bottle.
“I’m not sure cabernet sauvignon really goes with ketchup chips. Though I guess they’re both red. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a junk food eater.”
He took back the bottle and poured wine into my glass. “I can cheat once in a while. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”
I held up my glass to his once he’d refilled it. “To Christmas Eve and cheating.”
He bit his lip.
“I mean, to cheat meals. Obviously not cheating cheating, but I’m single so it doesn’t apply here.”
A second bottle of wine was probably a bad idea. Oh well.
“I’m single too, so I’m only cheating with the chips. Okay, what’s your game? Euchre?”
Euchre was fun. I’d played a lot in high school, but I didn’t want to test my euchre skills against the poker champ. I’d decided on a game that was pure chance, but not as time-consuming as War.
I picked up the cards and shuffled them. Not as smoothly as Phin, but I got the job done. “We’re playing Jacks.”
He frowned. “Jacks?”
I nodded and dealt out five cards each. I put the rest of the deck on the coffee table and turned the top card over. “So, we have five cards, and every time you pick up a card, you discard one.”
“So I always have five cards in my hand. Got it.”
“The goal of the game is to get the lowest score. Aces are worth one. Kings and queens are ten.”
“And jacks?”
“Zero.”
“So the best hand is four jacks and an ace.”
“Exactly. Each turn you pick up one card and discard one. You can either take the top card on the deck, which is facedown, or the top card on the discard pile, which is faceup.”
He sorted the cards in his hand. “What else?”
I shrugged. “When we’ve picked up all the cards in the deck, whoever has the lowest score wins.”
He stared at me. “That’s it?”
I nodded.
He rearranged the cards in his hand. “This game is pure chance.”
“Well, you have to make sure you don’t discard a good card.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, to make it interesting, what are we playing for?”
I took another sip of wine while I thought. I totally blamed that for the words that came out of my mouth. “Clothes. We’re playing strip Jacks.”
He could have laughed. Made a joke. Instead, he sat perfectly still, only his eyes moving over what he could see of my body. Then he swallowed.
“Okay. Strip Jacks it is. Who goes first?”
Phin
It was still cold as hell outside but things were heating up in here. I was shocked when Skye suggested a stripping game, but damn if I was going to turn down that challenge.
She won the first two games. Losing was frustrating, but there was no strategy to the game. She turned up three jacks and two aces, and I was left with a jack, two aces, and two twos. The next game we each had two jacks, but she had three aces.
So now I was bare from the waist up, since she’d chosen both my shirts to go. I was chilly but I didn’t care, not with the way she watched my chest when she didn’t think I was looking. I wasn’t the biggest guy on the team, or the best looking. I wasn’t the most talented, or the highest paid. But Skye was looking at me like I was all of those things, and I liked it. A lot.
It was her deal again. I’d already decided on my choices for removing her clothes, and I was sure I’d get some of those gone before long. The thing about luck was that it eventually evened out. And when it did, I’d follow her lead and get that sweater off.
We wouldn’t go too far. We’d been drinking, even if only a bottle and a half of wine over the last three hours, and I didn’t want her to regret anything. But it had been her idea, and I was very curious about what she looked like with more skin showing. Skye had grown up, a lot.
I picked up my hand. My luck had changed—three jacks already. The best she could do would be a jack and four aces. Then I’d have two twos, and we’d be tied. Pretty sure in that case three jacks won.
I kept my expression blank. As we took turns picking up cards, I saw the frown creasing her forehead. I got two aces, so I knew the game was done, but I played along.
I picked up another ace. I had no choice but to discard it.
Skye looked at it for a moment. Then she lifted her gaze to my face. “Damn, you have the best poker face.”
I let my grin break free.
She tossed her cards down. “Okay, you win this one. How long did you have those jacks?”
“In the deal.”
“Shit. I dealt that one. I can’t even argue that you cheated.”
I put a hand on my chest. “I don’t cheat!”
“Except for chips? Okay, what do I need to take off?”
I’d have liked to say everything, but it was still chilly in here and we had rules. I wasn’t sure just how far she wanted to push this so I asked for her sweater.
She pulled it off over her head, leaving her hair a mess with a few strands standing up with static electricity. She smoothed it down and shoved the cards over to me.
I took the cards in hand, shuffling them carefully. I didn’t need to stare at how the turtleneck she wore under that pullover molded to her body. Or read anything into the fact that she didn’t wear a padded bra, and her nipples were erect. It was just the cold.
But damn, she had pretty tits. Or pretty-shaped tits.
I gave myself a mental slap and started to deal. Maybe it would be better for me to lose before my libido got out of hand.
I had a handful of kings, queens and a ten. Skye picked up a card and discarded a six. That was a good sign. I picked up a jack. Fuck . But still, it was only one. I discarded a king.
Skye discarded a five, and two threes. But I picked up the next three jacks. I now had four jacks and a ten.
She picked up a card and discarded it—another ten.
I picked up a two. Damn it. I couldn’t lose. I tossed the ten I had left and glared at my hand.
Skye picked up a card, tucked it into her hand, and dropped a three on the pile.
I picked up and discarded garbage, but as the pile diminished, Skye’s eyes narrowed. Before our last couple of picks, she dropped her cards. “How many jacks do you have?”
I laid out my hand.
“Are you always this lucky?”
“Not always, but a lot.”
“Okay, what am I taking off next? The turtleneck or the jeans? I’m telling you right now I’ll fight to keep my socks.”
The picture of her in nothing but socks filled my brain, and my dick started to respond. “It’s cold. Maybe we should end the stripping part of the game.”
She shook her head. “Nope. I keep my promises.” She lifted the bottom of the turtleneck and pulled it up, getting stuck as it went over her head. And while she fought with it, I stared.
Her bra was pale pink, and thin enough that I could see the darker discs of her nipples through it. Her skin was smooth and creamy, and the way she was moving had her breasts jiggling in a ridiculously distracting way.
“Ugh!” She finally got the top off, her hair even more disheveled than last time.
She caught me looking. Her mouth twitched. I moved my eyes up and met hers. For long seconds, we stared at each other.
“Am I imagining this or are we having a moment?” she whispered.
“You’re not imagining it.”
“What are we doing?”
I knew what I wanted to be doing, but the place wasn’t much above freezing, despite the work of the fireplace, and… I pulled my gaze to the glasses of wine. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not.”
“I’d like to kiss you.”
“I’d like you to kiss me.”
I shoved the coffee table back so it was no longer between us. Skye watched me, her chest rising with each breath. Fuck, she was pretty.
I dropped onto my hands and knees and crossed the short distance between us.
“You’re gorgeous,” I whispered then leaned forward to touch her lips with mine.
They were cold, but soft, and I moved against her with a little more pressure. She slid her hands up my chest, kick-starting a wave of arousal. She locked her fingers behind my neck and pulled me closer.
I didn’t fight it.
She opened her mouth to me and my body settled on hers as we deepened the kiss. Her breasts were firm against my chest, her arms now wrapped tightly around my neck. She parted her thighs and I settled there like it was where I was meant to be.
She shuddered as I rubbed my hard cock against her. It felt good, even through the layers of clothing between us. I ran my hand down her side, feeling the silky skin then running over the denim to tug her hip up, bringing her closer.
She moaned and tightened her grip in my hair.
Even half dressed, dry humping on couch cushions on the floor, this was incredible. So incredible I heard?—
Skye stiffened. “Shit.”
She started to push me away, and I realized the sounds weren’t in my head or even in the cottage.
I rolled off her and she scrambled to find her clothes.
“Those assholes better have brought the utility crew,” she muttered.
I willed my erection down. A glimpse of Skye struggling to put her turtleneck back on didn’t help, but the repeated honking of horns did a pretty good job.
By the time I’d found my own clothes and made it to the door, Skye was already pulling on her boots, her figure wrapped in the bulky coat that hid everything.
I wouldn’t forget though.