Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Drew poured the wine while the others filled me in.
“If you’re sure you want to do this, then we’ve got to make it fair,” Tristan said, sounding almost accusing. “We’re each wearing seven items of clothing—two socks, two shoes, pants, shirt, and underwear.”
“I’m not wearing underwear,” Carter said.
“That’s your own damn fault.” Tristan turned back to me. “I would assume you’ve got five items on—two shoes, the dress, bra, and panties, right?”
“Right.” I didn’t tell him that the bra was a balconette bra that barely covered my nipples because I didn’t intend to lose any of my clothes tonight.
“We’ll take off our shoes so that we all start with a level playing field.”
“Sounds good.” I smiled at my marks. “Let’s play.”
23
SIERRA
An hour later I was perched on the sofa, my leg crossed and pushing out of the slit in my dress to emphasize the fact that so far, I’d only lost one shoe.
I couldn’t say the same for my companions.
Tristan sat next to me on the sofa, and he was down to his shirt and boxers—which is how I came to learn that he has really awesome legs. Strong and well-shaped, and the hair was light, like the stubble that lined his jaw. I also learned that unlike the boxer-briefs that Drew favored, regular boxers tended to reveal more than their owners might suspect.
Half the time after Tristan leaned forward to pick up a card, the boxers gaped open, giving me quite the show.
Drew was on the beanbag chair near my feet. He still had on his pants, underwear, and one sock. Between hands, he’d given me a foot rub, joking that if I let myself lose more often, he could rub both feet.
Yeah… that wasn’t going to happen.
And then there was Carter. He’d pulled the armchair up to the other side of the table, so I had a good view of him—and I’d have an even better view of him when he lost his one remaining item of clothing, his jeans.
His trademark smirk was nowhere to be found while we played. I got the sense that he didn’t mind the thought of being naked, but he hated the idea of losing. Still, it hadn’t cramped his style. He made a big production of taking off each item of clothing. He’d even twirled his shirt around like a stripper and then thrown it over to me. It was sitting next to me now, and every once in a while, I stroked a finger over the soft fabric.
I wondered if losing his underwear might be the thing that finally wiped that smirk off of Otto’s face.
Taking a sip of my wine, I decided to rub it in a bit. “Hey Drew?” I grinned down at him.
“Yes?”
“What happens if you lose this round?”
He grinned. “I lose a sock.”
“And what happens if I lose this round?”
“I get to rub both your feet.”
“Too true. But—maybe it’s the wine, but what happens if Carter loses this round?”
“He loses all his dignity,” Drew said with a wicked grin.
“Nope… Cinderella over there becomes so turned on she soaks her panties and takes them off voluntarily,” Carter corrected. He’d started calling me that because I lost a shoe.
“Not going to happen,” I said smugly, though in actuality, it was pretty damn hard to look away from Carter. He had on black boxer briefs that hugged him in all the right places.
On the next hand, Drew lost his sock. Big deal.
Then I had a very bad draw, and for a moment, it looked like I was going to lose. But it turned out that Tristan had an even worse hand than me, and just like that, his shirt was off.
And then it happened. Carter took a risk—and it didn’t pay off. He looked disgusted as he tossed his cards on the coffee table. His eyes were on me when he stood up. “Got a good view, Cinderella?”
“I can see just fine,” I said. My heart was beating faster, and I couldn’t help wondering if his cock was bigger or smaller than Drew’s. Tristan’s, from the brief flashes I’d seen of it, looked pretty sizable as well.
Carter stood in front of us, his sculpted torso bare. The only thing he had on were his jeans—until they weren’t anymore. He hooked his thumbs in his waistband and he peeled the denim down, exposing one inch after another after another of his long cock.
Good god, it looked like it hung halfway down to his knees.
My smug smile vanished as Carter kicked his jeans away and straightened up. Clothed or unclothed, he was gorgeous, but I couldn’t help staring at his cock. It was just so damn big. Would it really get even bigger when it was hard?
“Sierra? Are you okay?” Drew asked, sounding concerned.
At the same time, Tristan spoke to Carter. “Stop being an ass and sit down.”