Chapter 3 A Different Kind Of Game

~~SERAPHINE~~

"So," Andrew continued, handing me a glass of whiskey, "what brings you to Seattle alone with a romance package?"

I took a sip, letting the burn distract me from the question. "What makes you think I'm alone?"

He gestured to the untouched champagne. "Two glasses, one person drinking from the minibar. Plus, you seemed pretty... focused when I walked in. Not exactly waiting for someone."

My face heated up again. "I thought we weren't talking about that."

"You're right. My apologies." He sat on the couch across from me, maintaining a respectful distance. "How about we talk about something else? Ever played poker?"

"Poker? Really?"

He pulled out a deck of cards from his laptop bag. "I always travel with them. Helps pass time during boring business trips. Unless you have something better to do?"

I looked around the room designed for romance, at the scattered rose petals, at this stranger who was being surprisingly kind about the most embarrassing moment of my life. "Deal me in."

We sat at the small table by the window, the city lights twinkling below us. Andrew shuffled the cards with practiced ease, his hands moving smoothly. I tried not to stare at them, at how strong they looked.

"Five card draw?" he suggested.

"Sure. What are we betting?"

He flipped his gaze around the room. "Well, we don't have poker chips. We could bet with those tiny bottles from the minibar."

"At these prices? I'll be broke in three hands." The alcohol was making me feel looser and more relaxed. "How about something else?"

"Like what?"

The words came out before I could stop them. "Truth or dare? If you win a hand, you get to ask a truth or give a dare."

Andrew's eyes sparkled with interest. "That's a dangerous game to play with a stranger."

"Are you scared?" I challenged, a wave of bravery gushing through my bloodstream.

"Deal the cards."

The first few hands were innocent enough. I learned he was here for a business acquisition. He learned I just graduated with a business degree.

He won a hand and dared me to drink the champagne meant for my non-existent romantic evening. I won the next and asked him why he was in a romance suite alone too.

"The company booked it. It was the last room available," he replied, but something in his eyes suggested there was more to the story.

As we played, the space between us seemed to shrink. Perhaps it was the whiskey, or perhaps it was the way he laughed at my bad poker face, but I found myself relaxing.

And for the first time since last night, I wasn't thinking about Raymond.

"Your turn to deal," Andrew uttered, passing me the cards.

I shuffled clumsily, definitely not as smooth as him. "Let's raise the stakes."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Strip poker," I blurted out, then immediately wanted to take it back. "I mean, not full... just like, shoes and socks count as separate items."

He leaned back, running a scrutiny on my features. "Are you sure about that? You've already lost four hands."

"Maybe I'm letting you win."

"Are you?"

"Guess you'll find out."

The air in the room changed, and became charged with something electric. Andrew won the first hand of our new game, and I kicked off one shoe dramatically, making him laugh. I won the next and pointed at his suit jacket.

"That's expensive," he protested in a playful manner.

"Should have thought about that before agreeing to the stakes."

He removed his jacket, and I could see more of the tattoo now, definitely a dragon, with intricate scales running down from his neck. The way his shirt stretched across his chest made my mouth go dry.

Ohh, it's soothing.

We kept playing, and soon I was down to my dress and underwear, while Andrew had lost his tie, shoes, socks, and was unbuttoning his shirt. I should have felt exposed, vulnerable, but instead I felt powerful.

The way he looked at me wasn't like Raymond, checking if I was good enough. Andrew gazed at me like I was a goddess.

"Last hand?" he suggested, his voice rougher than before.

"Getting scared?" I teased.

"I'm just trying to be a gentleman."

"Maybe I don't want you to be a gentleman."

The words hung between us. Andrew dealt the cards slowly, then our eyes locked. I had a terrible hand, just a pair of twos. When we showed our cards, he had a full house.

"I win," he declared, his tone soft in a way that made my heart melt. "So, what comes off?"

I sprung up, every fiber of my being pounding in sweet anxiety. This was crazy. I didn't know this man. But something about him called to something deep inside me, something primal that had nothing to do with having a wolf.

"You choose," I whispered.

He straightened upright too, and closed the distance between us but didn't touch me. "Seraphine, you've been drinking. I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"The only thing I regret," I said, surprising myself with my boldness, "is that I interrupted my own pleasure earlier. Before you walked in, I was imagining someone who would want me exactly as I am. Someone who wouldn't care about status or wolves or any of that."

"And what were you imagining this person would do?"

I trudged forward, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. "Why imagine when you're right here?"

Andrew's hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. "You don't know me."

"I know enough. I know you could have taken advantage when you walked in on me, but you didn't. I know you've spent the evening making me laugh instead of dwelling on my ex. I know the way you look at me makes me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful," he complimented, his voice deep and sincere. "Absolutely stunning."

"Then kiss me," I challenged.

For a moment, I thought he wouldn't. Then his succulent lips crashed into mine, and it was nothing like kissing Raymond.

This was fire and demand and promise all rolled into one. His hands tangled in my hair, and I glued my body against his, feeling every hard line of his body.

When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard like we just returned from a marathon. "Seraphine," he started, but I placed a finger on his lips.

"One night," I whispered, parting my lips. "There wouldn't be any strings, or expectations. Just two strangers making each other feel good. Unless... unless you don't want to?"

His response was to pick me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. "Oh, I want to," he growled against my neck. "I've wanted to since I walked in that door."

He carried me to the bedroom, and I knew this night would change everything. I just didn't know how much.