slyly.
“What?” Adam wanted to know.
“I think I know a way we can make Twister, um, more adult ,” I offered.
“And that would be…”
“Let’s play naked Twister.”
Yep, Adam loved that idea.
Entertaining from the start, the game turned especially so when Adam and I wound up all tangled up in each other. We eventually called the match a draw, but really I was the victorious one.
As I reminisced about everything Adam had done to me—with his knee on red and his hand on blue—the sound of his voice drew me from my lust-laced memory. I glanced up from where I sat perched, knees up, on the sofa. Adam was halfway down the stairs, holding up another game he’d pried from the pile.
“What do you think about this one, Maddy?” he asked, a playful grin in place on his beautiful face.
As I read the title, I laughed. “Clue?”
Adam glanced at the game, then back to me. “Well, yeah. I think this is a game you may actually have a possibility of winning,” he deadpanned.
“Ha, ha, ha,” I retorted.
Funny guy, that Adam Ward.
Of course, he had a point. I hadn’t won a single game yet—if you didn’t count our adult game of Twister. But if there was one thing I was good at, it was piecing together clues to get to the bottom of a mystery. History had proven that fact to be true. Hell, the more I thought about it, the more certain I became that this game was made for me.
“You’re on, Ward,” I declared resolutely as I stood. I straightened the fuzzy peach angora off-the-shoulder sweater I was wearing over my black camisole and brushed off my jeans. “Let’s do it.”
“Great,” Adam said.
“Prepare for defeat,” I added, pointing at the guy whose butt I planned to whoop as he came down the stairs.
Adam chuckled and strode toward me, game in hand. “Yeah, good luck with that,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re going to need it.”
“Trash talker,” I accused when he reached me.
“Just don’t think I’m going to go easy on you, Fitch,” Adam warned.
Damn, too bad he was talking about the game. Distracted momentarily, I took in how Adam’s dark rinse jeans hugged his sculpted ass and how the dark gray sweater he was wearing showcased his finely toned upper body. Yeah. Adam was sex on legs, no doubt about it.
I smiled, and Mr. Sex-on-Legs promptly leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. He followed up with a playful smack to my ass right before we knelt down to spread the game board out on the floor.
“Trying to distract me?” I accused.
“Hey, whatever it takes.”
“I am so going to kick your ass,” I retorted.
Adam scoffed, but twenty minutes later my Miss Scarlet was indeed kicking Adam’s Professor Plum’s ass.
Yes! Perhaps I could win this one.
I carefully reviewed what I knew…
Okay, I was pretty certain the murder weapon was the knife , and the room the murder had been committed in was the billiards room . The only hitch—I was sketchy on the suspect.
Adam rolled the dice and moved his purple playing piece to the library . He cleared his throat and offered up his accusation. “I think it was Mrs. Peacock, in the library , with the knife.”
Damn, Adam was onto the knife as the murder weapon, same as I suspected. With what I hoped was a poker face, I sorted through my cards. I held up the one for the library .
“Interesting,” Adam murmured as he thumbed through his own cards.
I rolled the dice and worked my way toward the billiards room.
Once my token was in that green room, I took a stab (no pun intended).
“I think it was Mrs. White”—a pure guess—“in the billiards room, with the knife.”
Adam’s blue eyes met mine after he looked through his cards. “Huh. I think you may have won, Maddy.”
“No way.”
Adam examined his cards once more. “Yeah, you won. I don’t have any of those cards.”
I checked the cards we’d placed at the center of the board at the start of the game. I read the results out loud as I
“What?” Adam wanted to know.
“I think I know a way we can make Twister, um, more adult ,” I offered.
“And that would be…”
“Let’s play naked Twister.”
Yep, Adam loved that idea.
Entertaining from the start, the game turned especially so when Adam and I wound up all tangled up in each other. We eventually called the match a draw, but really I was the victorious one.
As I reminisced about everything Adam had done to me—with his knee on red and his hand on blue—the sound of his voice drew me from my lust-laced memory. I glanced up from where I sat perched, knees up, on the sofa. Adam was halfway down the stairs, holding up another game he’d pried from the pile.
“What do you think about this one, Maddy?” he asked, a playful grin in place on his beautiful face.
As I read the title, I laughed. “Clue?”
Adam glanced at the game, then back to me. “Well, yeah. I think this is a game you may actually have a possibility of winning,” he deadpanned.
“Ha, ha, ha,” I retorted.
Funny guy, that Adam Ward.
Of course, he had a point. I hadn’t won a single game yet—if you didn’t count our adult game of Twister. But if there was one thing I was good at, it was piecing together clues to get to the bottom of a mystery. History had proven that fact to be true. Hell, the more I thought about it, the more certain I became that this game was made for me.
“You’re on, Ward,” I declared resolutely as I stood. I straightened the fuzzy peach angora off-the-shoulder sweater I was wearing over my black camisole and brushed off my jeans. “Let’s do it.”
“Great,” Adam said.
“Prepare for defeat,” I added, pointing at the guy whose butt I planned to whoop as he came down the stairs.
Adam chuckled and strode toward me, game in hand. “Yeah, good luck with that,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re going to need it.”
“Trash talker,” I accused when he reached me.
“Just don’t think I’m going to go easy on you, Fitch,” Adam warned.
Damn, too bad he was talking about the game. Distracted momentarily, I took in how Adam’s dark rinse jeans hugged his sculpted ass and how the dark gray sweater he was wearing showcased his finely toned upper body. Yeah. Adam was sex on legs, no doubt about it.
I smiled, and Mr. Sex-on-Legs promptly leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. He followed up with a playful smack to my ass right before we knelt down to spread the game board out on the floor.
“Trying to distract me?” I accused.
“Hey, whatever it takes.”
“I am so going to kick your ass,” I retorted.
Adam scoffed, but twenty minutes later my Miss Scarlet was indeed kicking Adam’s Professor Plum’s ass.
Yes! Perhaps I could win this one.
I carefully reviewed what I knew…
Okay, I was pretty certain the murder weapon was the knife , and the room the murder had been committed in was the billiards room . The only hitch—I was sketchy on the suspect.
Adam rolled the dice and moved his purple playing piece to the library . He cleared his throat and offered up his accusation. “I think it was Mrs. Peacock, in the library , with the knife.”
Damn, Adam was onto the knife as the murder weapon, same as I suspected. With what I hoped was a poker face, I sorted through my cards. I held up the one for the library .
“Interesting,” Adam murmured as he thumbed through his own cards.
I rolled the dice and worked my way toward the billiards room.
Once my token was in that green room, I took a stab (no pun intended).
“I think it was Mrs. White”—a pure guess—“in the billiards room, with the knife.”
Adam’s blue eyes met mine after he looked through his cards. “Huh. I think you may have won, Maddy.”
“No way.”
Adam examined his cards once more. “Yeah, you won. I don’t have any of those cards.”
I checked the cards we’d placed at the center of the board at the start of the game. I read the results out loud as I
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