Friday Night Chicas

by Mary Castillo

  Her head whirled for a moment and she laid her hand on his chest, urged him away. “Cards, ¿recuerdas?”

  “Sí, I remember.” He popped the remaining bit of strawberry in his mouth, his tongue darting out to wipe away a small bit of juice on his lips.

  Tori’s toes curled as she imagined kissing him just then. Licking the juice from his mouth. Somehow she reined in that desire and walked to the nightstand for a deck of cards.

  She didn’t hear him approach and suddenly felt his presence behind her as he reached for the cards, held them up. “Your friends, again?”

  “Probably, only I don’t think it occurred to them how we would—” She suddenly stopped, afraid she was revealing too much.

  When she turned to face him, she was surprised. There was … Was that a blush on his cheeks? Did she imagine that he fumbled the cards a little as he took them out of the box?

  “Poker, right?” He walked to the small table, shuffling the cards the whole time. Clearly avoiding her gaze.

  Normally boring and responsible Tori reared her uber-anal head at that moment. She was alone in her bedroom with a stranger. He could be a serial killer. Or worse. And the insanity of that last little concern made her chuckle. Duh, Tori. What could be worse?

  Except that maybe after they found her body, some nosy reporter would stick a microphone in her poor mami’s face. Mami would be wailing and crying on television that Tori had been a good girl, while millions of Miamians would think, “Ay, pobrecita madre. She had no idea her daughter was a slut.”

  Then that same reporter would likely head down to the corner where that good-for-nothing Julio would be hanging out in his wife-beater shirt with his crew of fellow ne’er-do-wells. Julio who would crow about how he and Tori had been an item—which they hadn’t—and didn’t she now wish she’d pulled off his miserable little pinga when he’d proudly shown it to her in the seventh grade!

  Take a Chance Tori drove those ridiculous thoughts away and walked toward the window. She closed the curtain, then sat down at the table.

  Her Papi Chulo had followed her. She gazed up at him and gave him what she hoped was an inviting smile.

  He placed the cards he had been shuffling in the middle of the table and joined her.

  “Hearts are wild. But what are we betting?” Tori asked. “Porque plain ol’ strip poker seems so—”

  “Obvious? Childish even,” he said, clearly on the same path she was following.

  “Sí. Childish,” she repeated, although in the back of her mind, she had kind of been looking forward to the possibility of seeing him naked.

  “But playing for money. We decided that was boring, ¿verdad?”

  She met his gaze, trying to gauge where he was going and found it impossible to read him. He seemed calm. His hands were steady as they rested on the top of the table. He’d make a tough opponent, she thought, if this was a sample of his poker face. “Bueno. If we’ve eliminated the strip part and—”

  “Who said we vetoed that idea? And do you know you slip into Spanish when you’re nervous?”

  “Ño. I’m not nerviosa, just … well, maybe un poquito.” She grabbed the deck because she suddenly needed something to do with her hands.

  He placed his hand over hers. “If it helps, I’m nervous, too.”

  “¿De verdad?”

  With one finger, he crossed his heart. “Truth. So, what if we say the winner decides the prize.”

  Tori—Uber-anal Tori—thrust her index finger into the air. “Within reason. I mean, you can’t ask for all naked on the first win.” Dios mío had she just said that? Could she be lucky enough to have a tidal wave swallow her whole right now? Quick, damage control, Tori. “Because that would be way boring and predictable,” she speedily added.

  That grin came again, unrepentant. “Way boring. Better to take it one thing at a time. Anticipation, ¿verdad?”

  “Sí. Anticipation.” Time to take it slow and easy and not rush things. Only it was difficult to do so with thoughts of ice-cold champagne running over the ridges of his abdomen.

  Hands a little unsteady, Tori laid the cards in the middle of the table. “Your deal.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked and as she met his gaze, she realized he was giving her one last chance to change her mind. That streak of chivalry only endeared him to her more and convinced her that she wouldn’t be making a mistake by continuing their little game. “Five-card stud. Hearts are wild.”

  Chapter Nine

  He dealt the cards swiftly and just as quickly, Tori examined her hand. Her miserable hand consisting of a hodgepodge of low number cards. No possibility of a straight. No pairs in the bunch. No ace to let her draw four new cards. No hearts. She hoped that wasn’t a harbinger of the night to come—and not just in the cards department.

  She glanced up at him. Did she detect a glimmer of a smile on his face? She was still looking at him, her expression as bland as she could make it, when he lifted his gaze from his cards. “Ready?”

  Tori nodded and laid down three cards, hoping he would think she had at least a pair. He dealt her the new cards and she considered them. A little better since she now had a two of hearts. With it being a wildcard, she had somehow managed to end up with a pair of sixes, but as she motioned for him to continue, he gave a small slash of his hand to indicate he wouldn’t draw any cards.

  “Pair of sixes,” she said and flipped her cards over to reveal her hand.

  He grinned broadly, the dimple deep in his cheek, and as he met her gaze, his eyes were glittering with delight. One at a time he flipped the cards over to reveal a flush, courtesy of two wildcards. “I guess I won.”

  “I guess you did. So what will it be?”

  Leaning back in his chair, he brought his hand to his face and rubbed his index finger back and forth across his lips, thoughtfully considering his request. Then he grinned again and said, “Tell me your name.”

  Panic came quickly. Panic and surprise. This very sexy man—the perfect Papi Chulo—was sitting in her stateroom in the middle of the night, his inhibitions loosened by the few strong mojitos he’d drunk earlier. Loosened enough that they were now engaged in an extremely intriguing game of chance and after his first win … He’d asked to know her name? He was suddenly going all Joe Sensitive on her?

  Not fair. This was supposed to be about fun. No-strings-attached kind of fun. Which meant no names and no expectations. Men had been doing women like that for centuries and now it was her turn. She was a modern woman after all, with all the benefits of the sexual revolution. And his request. It was just making it all that much harder. She was starting to like him, way too much, and that wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan.

  “No.”

  A confused look crossed his face at her answer. “No? Your name is ‘No.’”

  “No. I mean ‘No,’ as in no names.”

  He gave a small wave with his hand for her to continue. “Because that would be…”

  “Too complicated. This isn’t supposed to be complicated.” Her hands fluttered in the air as she spoke, awkward in their movements as she tried to explain.

  “So, this is a one-night stand for you. I’m just a sex object.”

  Tori didn’t know what she had been expecting, but his tone had a hint of playfulness in it as well as surprise. Possibly even disappointment. “Does that bother you?”

  “I’ve never been a boy toy before. This could be fun.” He straightened the cards on the table in preparation for the next hand.

  She chuckled and said, “I find that a little hard to believe.” And No, could she just find some other less embarrassing way of telling him that he was just too handsome for words.

  He gave her a half glance and paused his shuffle of the cards, a small smirk on his face. “So. If I don’t get my first request, then I guess I can make another choice, right?”

  “Right.”

  Standing, he said, “Take off my jacket. Por favor.”

  Did he have to be a polite
hottie? Where was the ruthless kind of alpha male that just expected she do it, like in all those romance novels she sometimes stole out of her mother’s and sister’s piles of books—just for beach reading, that is. Again she felt the pull of his niceness and worried that tonight was going to turn into more than she had bargained for. But she was committed to the game now.

  She stepped toward him and rested her hands on his chest. The cotton was smooth beneath her palm and slightly cool to the touch. She looked up at him.

  His jaw clenched slightly, and there was a hint of a tic along one side. Shifting her hands upward, she inched even closer and slipped her hands up to his shoulders.

  The muscles of his shoulders shifted beneath her hands, and after she eased one sleeve off, he laid his hand at the indentation of her waist and took the last final step to bring their bodies into contact.

  There was no denying the press of his hips against hers as she fumbled for a moment with his other sleeve. Nor the way he raised his hand and idly traced his index finger along the bare skin exposed by the Vee of her neckline. A moment later, he lowered his head to the side of her neck, again finding that muy sensitive spot. The one that instantly sent a little tug to her insides.

  When he took a quick little bite and then licked her skin, she bit her lip to battle a moan. A little too breathlessly she said, “So I guess this was one part taking off your jacket and one part copping a feel?”

  “Hmm. Possibly,” he said as he pulled away from her once more, but continued to softly caress the bare skin at her neckline and brush aside the diamond pendant nestled there.

  “You won the bet. You could have—”

  “Asked if I could do this?” He cupped one breast, lazily ran his thumb back and forth across the hard tip of it.

  An exhalation exploded from her mouth and a little shiver of desire danced along her skin. He smiled, clearly pleased by both responses, and leaned close once again, burying his head near the side of her face where he whispered. “But that would be boring. And predictable.”

  “And you’re neither,” Tori finished, her voice husky and a little unsteady.

  He laughed and pulled away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Actually, those who know me would say to the contrary.” Amusement colored his words.

  “Yo también,” she confessed and then bit her lip. Dios mío, what was it about this papi that had her so loopy? She didn’t have time to consider it further, for he held his hand out in the direction of the table, inviting her to return to her spot for the next hand.

  She did so, saying a quick little prayer to the Virgencita to help her win the hand, then instantly begging forgiveness because of whatever sinful thing she might be doing if her prayer was successful.

  But it wasn’t going to be her lucky night and he won the next round as well.

  Tori clenched her hands into fists, wondering what he would ask for as payment. Again it was a surprise. “Por favor. Take my shirt off.”

  Dios, his shirt. A shirt that she was sure hid a marvelously delicious chest. She had felt its strength beneath her hands before. And truth be told, she had been itching to see his chest. Feel it without the barrier of his clothes. Still she hesitated. “Are you sure you’ve got the idea of this game right?”

  “Sin duda. So…” He rose once again, held out his arms so she could reach his cuffs.

  She began there, quickly removing the gold cuff links and tossing them on the table. Moving her hands to his bow tie and with a slow pull, undoing it until it hung loose at his neck.

  Once again he placed his hands at her waist, then moved them upward until they rested just below her breasts.

  Tori swallowed hard, slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, then pulled it free of his pants. Mimicking the placement of his hands, she cradled his lean waist, slowly moved upward until she was just below the swell of his pectorals. Gazing up at him, she noted the darkening of his eyes, the way his pupils widened until almost nothing was left of the wonderful gray-blue.

  A second later, she touched him, running her hands over all that she had just exposed.

  He raised his hands, copied her actions, and she moaned.

  “¿Te gusta?” he asked, but as he did so, she bent her head and suckled him, ripping a guttural moan from him.

  He stopped his ministrations, grasped the back of her head to keep her there, but she gave a quick little bite, rose upright, and moved her hands upward until she had swept the shirt from his body.

  Somehow she managed not to groan. Somehow she kept her hands to herself, although the temptation was strong to touch all that warm golden skin and the sharp ridges of his six-pack abs.

  Before temptation won the battle, Tori took a quick step away, sat at the table, and then briskly shuffled a fresh round of cards. She perused her own, but shot a glance across the table. His hands were a little shaky as he cradled his cards.

  Again they went through the motions of the game, her papi drawing two cards while Tori only needed one. The deal had provided her with three of a kind and a wildcard heart.

  When he revealed his hand, she knew she had won and smiled.

  “Don’t gloat.” His words lacked any sting and there was an amused look on his face as he tossed his cards down onto the table.

  “Not gloating. Just thinking about being boring and predictable.”

  His head shot up at those words. “You want me to take my pants off?”

  Tori examined him carefully. She detected a bit of hesitation, again, mixed in with excitement and, of course, anticipation. It started a corresponding little streak of daring within her. “Not really,” she began, rose, and came to stand before him. “I want to take your pants off.”

  There was a sudden flurry of motion as he pushed back his chair and stood before her. He locked his gaze with hers and Tori never glanced downward as she started her task.

  As she slipped her index finger beneath the waistband of his slacks and idly moved it back and forth, he sucked in a breath.

  Gaze still locked with his, Tori undid the button of his pants and then dragged the zipper down. Slowly. Very, very slowly.

  “I gather this is about one part getting my pants off—”

  “And three parts copping a feel,” she said playfully, but there was nothing playful about the way he cupped the back of her head and brought her close for his kiss. A kiss that demanded her response.

  She opened her mouth to his, accepting the thrust of his tongue while she continued stroking him. There was a moan, only she wasn’t sure which of them had made the sound.

  He moved his hands to her breasts, cupped and teased her, and the only thing she wanted at that moment was for both of them to be naked and making love. Somehow she kept contact with his mouth for just a moment longer as she eased his pants down his legs.

  There was an awkward moment as his shoes blocked her progress, but he kicked them off. Then she shucked his pants off and tossed them to the side. Taking a deep breath, she paused to enjoy all that she had revealed. Men shouldn’t have legs that long, she thought, and grasped her hands before her tightly to keep from touching him. It was a losing battle so Tori did the only thing she could.

  Whirling away from the table, she walked to the wine bucket, grabbed the bottle of Cristal and fumbled with the foil. A second later, she felt the press of his body against her back and his arms came around her to grab the bottle and assist her.

  It was torture. Sheer torture to have the warm skin of his chest against the bare parts of her back. His hands deftly dealing with the seal and cork while she inanely gripped the bottle for him.

  When he was done, he took hold of the bottle and stepped away to pour, then placed the bottle back in the cooler.

  He held one glass out to her and proposed a toast. “To continuing our wonderful little game.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tori’s hand trembled as she took hold of the glass and clinked it against his. “To our little game unless…”

  He raised o
ne eyebrow again in a gesture that was becoming amazingly familiar and she added, “You’re impatient.”

  Spreading his arms wide he challenged, “Do I look impatient?”

  For a man who was standing there in nothing but sexy black silk boxers, Tori thought he looked amazingly calm, but … “No se. Are you?” she said and raised her free hand, laid it in the middle of his chest, and slowly stroked it back and forth in the gap between his pectoral muscles.

  “Try and find out.” There was only a slight tremor in the muscles of his chest that gave testament to his possible impatience.

  Tori shifted her hand to one of his nipples since they’d been driving her crazy from the moment she’d stripped off his shirt. Granted, it was weird, possibly even insane, to be obsessing about a man’s nipples, but his were so perfectly placed on the muscles of his chest. Hard, flat, and nutmeg brown, perfect—

  There was that word again and if truth be told … He had a perfect face and perfect hair and a perfect body and as she glanced down and noticed that her touching him had made for even more tent action in those boxers, probably a perfect everything else and what was she doing here with a nearly naked man in her room while she still had all of her clothes on?

  She moved her hand away, drained the last of her champagne in one big gulp, then set the glass on the table. Shifting her hands behind her she said, “I guess not impatient at first glance, but…”

  Tori undid the zipper of her dress, letting it slip to the floor and puddle in a heap of scarlet silk before meeting his gaze again.

  He bobbled the champagne glass in his hand, spilling some of the Cristal all over his chest.

  Dios, just too much temptation for her to resist.

  Tori leaned forward, licked off a few of the drops, then stepped away from him once more.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned, but despite his words, she had no fear. There was something about him. Something that told her she was safe with him. “I trust you.”