“Snake eyes means you have to pound your drink.” Her eyes widened as she absorbed that. It was really best if you rolled that when you only had a couple swigs left…and not a brand-new, super potent drink. I’d been in her shoes before…it led to bad things. I’d have to make sure she didn’t play this game for too long. I wanted her buzzed, not puking.

Rita handed me my beer, and I raised it in a toast to Kiera. “Bottom’s up, babe.”

She shook her head, not amused. “I wasn’t really playing…”

The entire table of drunken idiots started booing her. The look on her face was priceless, and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me, but I watched her closely, looking for the Get me out of here now expression. She surprised me though and started chugging her fruity cocktail. When she finished it in record time, she practically got a standing ovation from the table. Some jackass made a sexual comment about how I was lucky because she was such a good sucker, and I started laughing. Until she glared at me. Then I stopped. Immediately. Oops. Sorry.

Hauling Jackass out of his seat, I stole his spot with a “My turn.” If Kiera was actually going to play this game, then I’d play with her. Although, there was no way in hell I’d play with hard liquor like she was. I’d already learned that lesson.

I watched Kiera closely throughout the game. I wanted her loose and breezy, not plastered. When she giggled as she drank, I knew she was getting close. When I made a suggestive comment about our sex life, about her being drunk improving my odds, and Kiera tossed it right back at me, saying, “Since when have you ever needed help with your odds,” I knew she was there. Yep, time to go. But first, I couldn’t let the ball die on my side of the court. If Kiera was going to play…then let’s play.

Staring her down, I murmured, “True…” I ran my teeth over my bottom lip, a move I knew from experience she found distracting. Then I lowered my voice to that seductive range that I knew she loved and started explaining just what I hoped I could get her to do to me later. “But maybe I could get you to do that one thing with your—"

She didn’t even let me finish painting that glorious picture for the table. Partially standing, she snapped, “Kellan Kyle! You shut the hell up!”

That’s right…I win.