Edge Of Time

Sixteen

Sixteen

"Full house. Read 'em and weep!" Marissa laughed gleefully, spreading three jacks and two kings across the table in their lavishly decorated parlor.

"How do you win every time?" Craig shook his head and tossed his shirt across the table. He'd already lost his shoes, socks, jacket and belt to her and he was fairly certain she was cheating. She must be cheating, but after groveling on bended knee—literally—to persuade her to spend the day with him, he wasn't about to point it out. Winning never failed to put her in a good mood.

If it killed him this would be a pleasant afternoon.

Marissa blatantly ogled his shirtless form and her heated gaze burned across his flesh. "I must say, Craig, I have never seen a sexier man."

He quirked a curious brow. "Sexy. Is that one of your future words?"

"Yes."

"I gather the meaning is much as the word sounds."

Marissa winked in response, toying with the cards.

"You are driving me mad," Craig growled, and wondered at the sly smile on her face as he watched her shuffle and whip the cards in front of him. He was dying for a winning hand. Starving to see something. Lifting the five slippery cards he, scanned them. Aha! Aces and eights. This should be a winning hand!

"I fold." Marissa grinned devilishly and slapped her hand down on the table.

"No!" Craig feigned outrage "You can't do that!"

"Sure I can. I just did," she said with a sassy flip of her hair, and a finger pointed at his chest. "You, sir, are a terrible poker player."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't bluff. I saw in your face you must have a pretty good hand."

"Really." Craig leapt from his chair tried to grab her. Feinting to the right, he was ready when she dashed to the left. He swept her into his arms. She wrapped hers around his neck, and together they laughed. "Do you still think I can't bluff?" he asked.

Marissa splayed a gentle hand across his bare chest and turned dark eyes to him with a warm glow of expectation he'd almost forgotten. She tilted her face up until her warm breath mingled with his own. She coasted caressing finger-tips up his arms and across his shoulders. Parting her lips, she ran the tip of her tongue over them.

With a growl, Craig swept her off the floor, bounding up the stairs. He wasn't entirely sure how he managed to reach the bedchamber, as their lips never parted, but they made it. It took him far less time than a poker hand to divest her of her clothing.

She was so beautiful and willing and he needed her as he'd never needed anyone or anything. He had to know, to feel, that there was hope for them, for their marriage. It had been so long since he'd kissed her this way, and oh how he wanted her.