The Forever of Ella and Micha (The Secret #2)(24)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” I tell her, tossing my dirty clothes into the hamper and grabbing some clean pants from the top dresser drawer. It’s clear she’s checking me out, which would be great, except she’s drunk and I can’t do anything with her without feeling bad.

“I’m bored.” Her speech is slightly slurred and her eyes are red. “Can we do something?”

I climb into bed and sit down next to her. “I think we should go to sleep. It’s late.”

“Ethan and Lila are still awake.” She retrieves a bottle of Jack that was hidden behind her back, twists off the cap, and flicks it to the foot of the bed. “They’re playing strip poker.”

My eyes enlarge. “Right now.”

She bobs her head up and down. “They’ve already both taken off their shirts.”

“Were you just out there?”

“Yeah, where do you think I got this?” She shakes the bottle in front of my face and my hand darts out to steal it away, but she jerks her hand back, laughing. “Uh-huh. No way, Micha Scott. Not until you play with me.” She kneels up in front of me and swings her leg over my lap, tipping her head back to take a gulp. She gags, before her face turns serious. “You remember that time… that night my mom died?”

My body constricts. “How could I forget that night?”

There’s a mischievous look in her green eyes, and I wonder where the f**k this conversation is heading. “You remember how you kissed me before climbing down that tree?”

I nod, wrapping my fingers around her waist. “Of course I remember, but I’m surprised you do.” Because she was just about as drunk that night as she is now.

She licks her lips seductively. “It was a nice kiss, wasn’t it?”

I remove the bottle from her hands and force down a big swig, knowing I’m going to need it. I’ve never seen this side of her and even though she’s drunk, I am really f**king curious what lies ahead. “It was a very nice kiss.”

She leans forward and places her hands on my shoulders. “We should do it again.”

An internal struggle develops inside me over what’s right and what’s wrong and she softly presses her lips to mine. She rarely kisses me first and it’s a nice change, to know I’m wanted.

“You’re so sexy.” Her finger draws along my stomach muscles and my breath hitches. “I used to secretly stare at you all the time when you would work on cars with your shirt off.”

I try not to laugh at the secret she’s divulged and playfully trail kisses down her jawline to distract her from her confession. “How about we go see what Lila and Ethan are up to.”

Giggling, she leaps off the bed and knocks the lamp over. Not bothering to pick it up, she backs toward the hall. “If you want me in bed, you’re going to have to come get me first.” She takes off running.

I slip on a pair of jeans and a shirt, grab the bottle of Jack, and go out into the kitchen where Ethan and Lila are sitting at the table with their shirts off and cards out in front of them. Ella slumped over the fridge door, digging noisily through the beers.

Ethan drops the cards down on the kitchen table and surrenders his hands. “Lila talked me into it.”

Lila gazes up at me with little recognition. “It’s true. I did.”

I drop down in the seat between them and take a shot. “Alright, I’m giving up on trying to stop this regrettable night.” I collect the cards and shuffle them. “So don’t come crying to me when you’re all nak*d and cold.”

Ella

I didn’t plan on drinking this much, and I feel guilty for dragging Micha and everyone else into my mess. But I wanted to forget for two goddamn seconds that my father is going home for Christmas and invited Dean and Caroline back to the house for the weekend, but not me. I had to hear what was going on when Dean called and asked me where the key to the Cutlass were because he was planning on fixing it up and selling it or some shit—I hung up on him before I heard the full story.

Then the letter arrived from my dad. The freaking letter that I just couldn’t open, because it felt like whatever was in it could potentially crush my world into a billion pieces.

By the time we showed up to Micha and Ethan’s house, I was verging on a panic attack and I’d forgotten to take my medication that morning.

When Ethan had gone to take a shower, Lila pulled out a bottle of Bacardi and ordered me to spill my guts over a few drinks. A few turned into a very long blurry line and suddenly it’s several hours later. I have cards in my hand, a beer up to my lips, and a very intense game of strip Texas Hold’em going on. My shirt’s on the floor, along with my socks and boots.

Ethan and Lila left the house to go make a beer run. Micha made them give him the keys to the truck so he knew they would walk instead of trying to drive. Micha and I keep the game going, both of us determined to win. My drunken state has simmered down since I switched to beer, but my ability to make good choices is hindered.

Micha sits across the table from me, mulling over his cards. “I think I’ll raise you your bra.”

I shake my head with my eyes narrowed at him. “No way. Only one article of clothing per hand.”

He flicks his lip ring with his tongue, trying to seduce me and play dirty. “And who made up those rules?”

“I did.” I circle my finger above my head. “See this invisible crown right here. That means I’m the Queen of Poker and therefore I get to make up any rule whenever I want.”

An off-pitch laugh bursts from his lips. “That motion you made is for a halo, not a crown, and an angel is something you’re not.”

My jaw drops and I throw a chip at him, hitting him in the chest. “I am so an angel.”

“Ow.” He rubs his nipple where the chip scraped. “That was vicious.”

I nip my teeth at the air and then laugh, taking a drink of my beer. “Now back to the game. What do you have?”

He taps his fingers on the table, eyeing his cards and then targets an inside-melting gaze on me. “I want to up the bet,” he says, and when I start to gripe, he adds, “If you win you get my signed Silverstein shirt, but if I win you have to get nak*d.”

My heart thumps deafeningly in my chest. “I thought you said you’d never give me that shirt—that it was your pride and joy for getting it signed.”

He gives a blasé shrug. “I’m making an exception right now.”

I measure the pair of queens in my hand and the one laid down on the table, but there is also a pair of aces dealt. Shit. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, Ella May,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “Loosen up.”

From over my cards, I glare at him. “I’ll tell you what. If you lose you give me the shirt, but if I lose I’ll take off my bra and jeans, but the panties are staying on.”

Micha chuckles and takes a shot. “That’s not very fun.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve seen you play poker with girls like this before and you never offer up anything this rewarding unless you have a good hand and know you’ll win.”

“And I’ve seen you play enough times that I know you won’t back down from a good challenge,” he retaliates, slamming the bottle onto the table. “So come, pretty girl, are you in or out?”

I consider it, but not for very long, and lay my cards down on the table. “I’m in. Now what do you have?”

A soon as his lips turn upward, I know how it ends. He slaps his cards down on the table. “Get nak*d, Ella May.”

“You had the f**king ace.” I smack some of the cards off the table and they float to the floor. “I knew you had it.”

He continues to grin. “And yet you kept playing. Now get nak*d.”

I stare inanely at him. “That wasn’t fair. You tricked me.”

His eyes hold mine powerfully as he pats his hands on the table. “That was a totally fair hand and you know it, so stop being a baby and hand over your losings.”

Staring him down, I come to the conclusion that there’s no point in fighting. Keeping my eyes on him, I get to my feet and carry my chin high.

He raises a finger as he shoves the chair away from the table. “Just a second.” He saunters into the living room and disappears out of my sight.

Confused, I start to head for the doorway to find out what he’s doing, but as soon as my foot inches forward, the stereo clicks on and I stop as “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails clicks on.

“You have got to be kidding me?” I mumble as Micha struts into the kitchen with a pleased grin on his face as he rubs his hands together. “No way. Music was not part of the deal.”

He braces his hands on the door frame and the light highlights the muscles on his chest and the shameless blaze in his aqua eyes. “Now, most guys would have gone with some sexy song you had to dance to, but I’m a lyrical man myself and I think this song fits perfectly.”

The lyrics make my cheeks heat. “In no way, shape, or form did I offer up a striptease.”

His tongue slips slowly out of his mouth and when he pulls it back in, he draws his lip ring with it as his fingers comb through his disheveled hair, leaving strands sticking up. “Pay up, pretty girl.”

Pressing my lips firmly together to bury my nerves, I reach around to the back of my bra and unclasp it. Wavering temporarily, I inhale an insecure breath, release the fabric from my fingers, and allow it to fall to the floor.

His eyes drift to my chest, unashamed, as he sips a beer. When he pulls the bottle away from his lips, he makes a motion with his finger. “Continue.”

I want to smack him upside the head, but I unbutton my jeans. With my knees shaking, I step out of my pants and stand vulnerable in the spotlight, something I despise. Thankfully, I’m wearing boy-cut panties so at least my ass is covered. His eyes lazily move up my long legs, across my bare stomach, finally resting on my eyes.

“You can sit down now,” he says like he’s the boss.

Proving a point, I walk across the kitchen and steal a beer from the fridge. “I don’t have to sit down just because you tell me to—”

Warm fingers grip my side and reel me around, snatching the beer from my hand as my back presses against the fridge door. Micha stands only a sliver of space away from me, eyes fierce, lips tantalizing, his expression yearning with need.

He leans in to kiss me, but my hand pushes at his chest, and his bare skin is warm as I hold him back. “No way. You didn’t win anything but a show.”

Lowering my head, I duck under his arm, but he snags my wrist and pins it above my head kind of roughly. We’re drunk and neither of us is thinking rationally, but my interest in what’s coming renders me motionless.

His pupils are so large only a ring of aqua is left. His breath is hot against my cheek as he takes my other arm and confines it above my head so my body is exposed to him. It seems like I should be nervous, but excitement bubbles through my very starved body.

He inclines toward me and his chest brushes my tingling n**ples. “Do you want me to stop?” His voice is husky.