you get to put all your clothes back on, while everyone else has to stay as they are. It’s a really fun game.”
“What happens if you run out of clothes to take off?” I ask.
“We come up with…other ways of making you satisfy your debt,” Lucas says, his eyes narrowing in on my chest.
“Come on,” Damian encourages, his breath hot on my neck. “You’re a smart girl. This game is all strategy. I’ve been playing all summer and have yet to end up completely naked. What’s keeping you from having a little fun?”
I meet his eyes, about to tell him who is preventing me from doing this. Then I remember he’s getting laid right now after almost kissing me. Fuck him. If I want to play Strip Uno, I’m going to play Strip Uno. Starting tomorrow, he won’t be a part of my life. It’s time I do what I want.
I turn my attention back to this group of people I never would have considered friends before, but maybe this will show them I’m not some innocent little girl who needs her best friend’s brother to watch out for her. I can take care of myself. And I’m about to prove it.
“Deal the cards.”
Whistles and hollers sound around the table as Damian reaches for the deck and shuffles it before distributing seven cards to each of us. When he places the draw pile in the center of the table, he pauses before flipping over the top card. His eyes shift to mine, a devious grin on his face. Time seems to stand still as I keep my gaze glued to that card, knowing it’ll be for me. When he finally flips it over, I breathe a sigh of relief. Blue four. Grinning, I place a blue seven on top of it, deciding to play it safe for the time being.
As the game goes on, my confidence builds. Thankfully, I’m dressed appropriately for this game. Two flip-flops. One skirt. One cardigan. One tank top. One bra. One pair of panties. I have to draw or be skipped three times before things get a little risqué. Five times before I have to show some serious skin. I’ve got this.
Ten minutes into the game, I’ve only lost one flip-flop, while some of the guys are down to their boxers. Catherine’s tied with me, having only lost one article of clothing, but she chose to take off her shirt instead of a shoe.
Damian plays a yellow nine and I look at him, giving him a smile. I get the feeling he’s taking it easy on me, and I’m grateful to him for that. Turning my attention to my cards, my shoulders fall when I see I don’t have one to play.
With a sigh, I reach for the draw pile.
“Oooooh,” everyone at the table taunts as I pull cards until I get one I can play, adding three to my hand.
“Not a big deal,” I say with a shrug. “I’ve still got one flip-flop.” I slip it off and hold it up for everyone to see, then toss it onto the pile of clothes.
“What’s it going to take to convince you to lose the tank?” Damian asks.
I give him a sly smile. “A draw four card.”
The table erupts in laughter, the guys clapping. “I like this one,” Lucas states. “She’s got some fight to her.”
I’m not sure what to make of his statement. If I hadn’t been drinking, I may have analyzed it a little more, but the effects of the alcohol have tossed my inhibitions out the window, which also helps me not care when Damian plays his next card, a skip, forcing me to remove my cardigan. Thankfully, this round soon comes to an end with Catherine winning and being able to put her clothes back on. However, she seems a little downtrodden at the idea.
I deal the next round, hoping to get some draw fours or wild cards so I can put some clothes back on, but I don’t. I’m at Damian’s mercy to take it easy on me. My first few turns are uneventful, then he plays a reverse.
Standing, I look down at my body. Since we’re sitting, it makes sense to lose the skirt first. I meet Damian’s eyes, which seem to be glued to my every move. No one’s ever looked at me the way he is right now. It’s primal, animalistic, predatory. That voice inside my head is back, cautioning me.
Instead of listening, I reach for Damian’s half-full