Free MoreThanWords by Karla Doyle Page A

I’ll be more specific.”
    Quick as she could, she wrestled the polka-dot panties from
her body, then tugged the skirt back into place. Now that she had them, what
was she supposed to do with them? Start a pile that would hopefully have some
of his clothes in it before too long? She wasn’t about to hand them over—they
were practically soaked through at the crotch, for god’s sake. A quick show
that she’d paid his price, then she’d tuck them into the couch cushions.
    “Done…see?” She snapped them to his right side before he
turned around. Wrong move. Apparently Travis was a righty—one with great
reflexes. The panties now belonged to him. “Don’t—oh god, you can’t keep them,
they’re—” Soaked with her juices, for gods’ sake.
    The panties went up, over her head, until they hung from his
extended arm like a flag from a flagpole. She jumped for them, to no avail. She
was short, he was tall. ’Nuff said.
    “Relax. It’s like checkers or chess. I hold on to the pieces
you lose until the game’s over, that’s all.” The panties made a slow descent.
Travis’ eyes stayed on hers as he tracked the tiny garment into his back
pocket.
    At least he hadn’t commented on—
    “You weren’t lying about them being hot. Or wet.”
    Her face burned with the heat of an August day and no
sunscreen. “Now you know,” she said, enjoying the rise of his eyebrows at her
intentionally misleading statement. “I don’t lie.”
    After torturing her by ensuring that the goods in his pocket
were secure, Travis returned to his end of the couch. “Ready for your
question?”
    “If I answer that, your turn will be over.”
    “Then thanks for not answering.”
    Settling into her spot took work. And a lot of adjusting.
Not only was the skirt not cooperating in her quest to conceal her
cootchie, it seemed determined to climb higher up her thighs than before. “I
should’ve given you this damn skirt.”
    “Maybe next round.”
    “You wouldn’t…” Leave her naked from the waist down—she bet
he might. “Question please. I have a move to make and a round to win.”
     
    “Why isn’t your dog used to visitors, strangers or men in
general?” The question had Calli squirming as much as trying to shimmy panties
from underneath her curve-hugging skirt had. Meaning it was a good one to ask.
Sure, he’d been tempted to ask her a racier question—something about which of
the store’s sex toys she preferred or how often she used them. This was better.
Plus, it kept her off-balance, swinging between hot and serious. And she was
damn cute when she was thinking. Her pretty face and hot body would’ve been
enough to turn him on. The fact that she had a quick wit and functioning brain
made her irresistible.
    “I don’t go out much.”
    “That’s it?”
    She kept her eyes on her tiles, moving them around on the
rack. “I answered your question.”
    “Five words isn’t much of an answer.”
    “You didn’t tell me there was a minimum word requirement.
You really should’ve been more specific .”
    Damn, she had him again. Hung by his own comments.
    She looked up at him, a hint of naughty in those big eyes.
“You can buy more words…if you want to.”
    Changing the game on him—he liked it. “What’ll it cost me,
and for how many?” The wheels turned as she perused him. Her eyes might as well
have been her hands, because the effect was the same. Not that he hadn’t been
ogled before. It used to be a turn-on, knowing women wanted him, but it’d lost
its novelty. Under Calli’s openly appreciative gaze, though, his skin heated
and his cock swelled. God help him if she asked for his pants.
    “Three complete sentences for your shirt.”
    “Deal. Sentences first.”
    “No way. I need inspiration.”
    Spunky and not a total pushover. He liked her more by the
second. “Bare skin for a bare soul?”
    “Exactly.”
    “I hope tattoos don’t offend you.” His heart notched up as
he peeled the t-shirt over