Holding The Cards by Joey W. Hill

instinct had dulled, and you were ready to reap and sow.
    Only the field was fallow, nothing planted and growing.
    But she didn't have to worry about that here, did she? She held the card. Anything she wanted. She knew firsthand that some things couldn't be had, the most precious things, just by ordering them. But something in Josh's gaze pulled the hunter instincts reluctantly out of her heart, and she thought maybe she could…just for tonight…
    She had stolen glances at Josh while he was playing the board game, brief snapshots that kindled her inner heat. His mane of sun-streaked hair tied back on his shoulders. The oddly out-of-character tattoos layered over sleek muscle. A silver earring, a simple loop in his left lobe, also not quite him. Still shirtless, just in jeans. At one point, he had rubbed his eyes a bit, and then pulled a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from his pocket to help him focus on the board. The unconscious lack of vanity, the boyish charm when he gave her a quick smile, the serious cast the glasses lent his expression as he studied his next move, had been at once sexy and endearing. It had been all she could do not to draw him into her embrace, hold his head to her breast as tenderly as a mother and then ravish him with the ferocity of a she-lion.
    "You said," she cleared her throat. "That we should play this game like children. The fate of the Universe in the balance, and absolute trust in our companions."
    Marcus was putting away the board, but he lifted his attention at her quiet words. He nodded.
    Lauren looked back at Josh. His knee had stilled and he could have been a stag in the forest, watching her through foliage so thickly interlaced she could not see the shape of him, only the force of his presence by his liquid eyes, gleaming through the flickering shadows of the candlelight.
    "I want you both to stay here tonight," she said, and she made herself look at Josh as she said it, for she sensed it was important for him, more than Marcus, to see her face. He was more afraid of the intentions of this game. "I want you to sleep with me, in my bed." Now she did shift her gaze to Marcus, to ensure he understood her. "And I mean sleep. I don't want to be alone. Will you do that?"
    Translation: Do you understand me? Can I trust you? Will you play the game we all hope isn't a game?
    Page 36

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Can I believe, at least for tonight, that somewhere out there are people willing to comfort and nurture, love us and build us up instead of drain us, who won't rip our hearts from our chests and laugh at us?
    It was as clear in those four words as if she had shouted it, if they had the proper sensitivity to hear it.
    "A pleasure," Marcus agreed lightly. "Lisette has a king-sized mattress just down the hall. Josh has a bed of nails over two miles away, provided we don't fall off these excuses for trails into a ravine to die a slow, lingering death. A slumber party is the perfect end to a perfect night."
    She chuckled, and eased her grip on the stem of her glass. Josh's quiet, steady gaze was an unsettling but satisfying answer on its own.
    "Er, since you probably don't have any pajamas in our size," Marcus cocked a brow, "Does the lady have preference on sleepwear for her life-sized teddy bears? Or will just fur do, for those of us who have it?"
    "Oh," Lauren considered the problem and lifted a shoulder. "Whatever you're most comfortable in is fine with me."
    The double entendre was intended, if a bit juvenile, and the flash of humor in Marcus's eyes was as instant as the flame in Josh's.
    Lauren felt shy suddenly, and tried to shake off the feeling. She levered herself up, removing her foot from its pedestal of pillows to test it on the floor. It was already feeling better and she suspected she would be able to walk competently, albeit cautiously, by the following morning. "Well, then, I'm going to hobble back to the bathroom, take a bath