Lover (Court University 4)

A smile.

It touched her left eye, those smooth lips painted in matte red. A hint of it, a wince even before the expression eased away, and I decided to take a gamble. She’d called me arrogant.

May as well give her what she wanted.

“How about we make a wager?” I asked, getting her attention. “We thumb war for it. You know the game?”

She gave me a look like I was a goddamn idiot, but I’d done that on purpose. Call me a selfish guy, but I wanted another one of those heart-stopping smiles, which I got (a little) when she faced my way. She lifted a naked shoulder. “What are we playing for?”

“For you to go down there,” I said, directing a finger once more below. “But via the stairs. You do that, go down there with me if I win.”

“And if I win?”

Easy too. “You get to stay up here. All by your lonesome.”

“Meaning you’ll leave.”

Ouch, but I had invaded her clear intent for solitude. Because of that, I refused to take much offense. I nodded. “I’ll leave. You’ll be here all alone, and really, you can’t lose here.” One way gave her the peace and solitude she desired.

The other way gave her me.

Maybe I was a little arrogant, but she fascinated me, her grit and so obvious I don’t give a fuck mentality. This woman, should she be so inclined, would probably set my ass on fire if it suited her, which probably should scare me more than it did. It didn’t, though, not really. I wanted to see what she’d do.

I wanted to see what she’d let me do.

If she’d allow me to wrap her into a choice, possibly take away hers personally. She clearly was a fan of control.

Her delicate throat shifted, working as she seemingly considered the decision. Without words, she put out her hand.

“I win, you leave,” she said, gifting me with a rare smile. This woman flashed about as many as Prinze. She pointed. “You said.”

I did say that.

I gave her my hand, hers smooth and flawless as mine swallowed the digits up. There were few parts of this, quite frankly, string-bean body of mine that didn’t come with extended height or thick width. I was just shy of six-foot-eight, had the wingspan of basically an eagle, and it was truly fucking scary how many shoes on this planet came nowhere close to fitting me. I’d actually had to have shoes made coming up, and let’s not even get started on how many women I’d literally freaked the fuck out in the sheets. A lot of guys joked about being, erm, um, big down there and thought of it like something of a trophy. Not the goddamn curse it’d been for me on more than one occurrence. Besides having to worry about the way certain pants fit, it took a woman with stamina and a high pain threshold to handle the son of a bitch.

That wasn’t even me bragging.

In the case of my hands, though, I found I enjoyed the way Brielle’s petite digits lost themselves beneath mine, how soft and delicate they were. I decided to fasten our hands only slightly, worried about breaking her, but she hadn’t held back with me. She had a firm grip, as hard and rough-edged as she seemed to be.

I counted us down, our thumbs going back and forth. How odd we were doing this. I hadn’t played this game since I was a kid.

A flourish of excitement appeared to pass behind her eyes as well, but damn if she let it out. The only indicator had been her eyes, focused, determined. One would think, she was about to compete for the thumb war world cup.

The last number called out, I jabbed my thumb forward, usually pretty good at this. That had been the case way back when, but the tides sure had changed when I, overzealous with my strike, gave way for a second of vulnerability. Brielle stamped down her thumb on top of mine so quick my head spun, her smile coy.

“I win,” she said, releasing my hand, and like nothing happened, cuffed her arms. “You can leave now.”

Double ouch, and definitely not the outcome I’d gone for. I’d

wanted her to come down with me, stay with me, but she let me go, and I had nothing to do but take my leave.

“Damn,” I murmured, truly unsettled. I hadn’t expected this defeat. “No chance for a best two out of three?”

Another ghost of a smile on her lips, her head going back. “Are you a sore loser, Ramses?”

No, I just hadn’t wanted to leave. Not yet. It seemed too soon.

But since she accused me of that, I didn’t want to be one.