Page 13 of Final Temptation (Alpine Peak #2)

“Game on.” I puffed my chest out.

Chugging the last of my wine, the alcohol warmed my body, giving me every ounce of courage I needed to play this game—this newfound stripping version that, of course, only Myles would come up with.

I was playing with fire here.

“I’ll go first,” he said with a devilish smirk. “I have a bite mark on my ass, avocado is my favorite food, and I don’t have any tattoos.”

“Starting off innocent, I see.” I tapped my chin, thinking about which fact could be a lie.

I loved avocado too. Who the fuck hated avocado?

That would be a terrible lie. There weren’t any visible tattoos on him, but I could totally see him having some hidden piece of art you’d only see if he were naked.

And a bite mark on his ass? That was oddly specific.

I thought each option through before choosing my fate.

“What’s it gonna be, Princess?”

“Hmm, the bite mark?” I glared at him, trying to read his expression.

“Wrong. I have one tattoo. Looks like you owe me an article of clothing.” My jaw dropped as he rested back on the couch with a smug grin.

“Prove it. Prove to me you have a tattoo before I fulfill my part. Because from what I can see, you don’t have a mark anywhere on your body.” I pouted, my arms crossing over my chest.

Myles brought his hands up to his mouth, pulling on his lower lip, exposing a slightly faded tattoo. “What does that even say?” I asked after being proven wrong.

“It says rebel .” My mind went back to the night when we kissed all those months ago. I jokingly called him rebel for continuing to kiss me when we should have been slowing down.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “What made you get that tattoo?”

“Maybe I’ll let you figure it out in our next round of Two Truths and a Lie. First, strip,” he ordered.

My body responded to his words as if he were Triton—the mythical God—and I was under his spell. I stood in the center of the room, my breathing starting to pick up.

Just when I thought I had plenty of clothes on, I judged the scraps I picked to wear around the house. If I took even one piece of clothing off, I’d feel naked. Vulnerable.

Luckily, I had liquid courage on my side.

My fingers brushed the hem of the tiny crop top as I swiped it over my head in one fell swoop. I could feel Myles’ eyes burning right through me.

I stood in front of him—a draft of air now hitting my stomach—in a pair of cut-off jean shorts, and a black lace bra.

The room suddenly felt smaller, the silence deafening. Goosebumps ran over my arms, making me involuntarily shiver. My mind raced with each and every vulnerable thought.

Does he like the way I look? Should I end this game right now, take the loss, and stop myself from the embarrassment of having to take off the rest of my clothes?

The rational part of my brain chimed in, reminding me that I wanted to play this game. That I’d always been attracted to Myles, whether I made it known or not.

“My turn, Rebel .” I took a seat back on the couch, just a few feet away from him. “I used to have a pet parrot, I’ve never broken a bone, and I played the flute growing up,” I rambled.

He thought over the facts I spewed out, doing his absolute best to avoid my chest proudly on display. I prayed he’d get this wrong. Not only was I dying to see more of Myles, but I was nervous about what would happen if I stood here in only my bra and underwear.

“The pet parrot.” The corner of my lips lifted into a smirk.

“His name was Fred. He was my best friend growing up. As a kid, having an animal you could talk to was much better than an imaginary friend.” I wiggled my eyebrows, basking in the fact that he was wrong.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” He looked appalled.

“No, of course not. Fred was an amazing family pet. Unfortunately, my dad and I went on vacation one summer, and the sitter we had looking after him accidentally left the cage open. We got home, and feathers were everywhere. I’m pretty sure he got in a fight with the fan… Pretty gruesome and tragic as a child.”

Myles shook his head in disbelief. “What’s the lie, Soph?”

“Oh yes, sorry. I didn’t play the flute growing up.

In fact, I played the recorder, but that was short-lived.

I gave up when all my classmates learned Hot Cross Buns by memory, and I couldn’t quite figure out how many times to play the Hot Cross Buns part.

It was so embarrassing every time I continued to play while everyone else finished the song.

It felt like my own personal encore that no one asked for. ”

“You’re definitely one of a kind, Sophie.

” Myles shook his head and stood up. His thumbs looped underneath the waistband of his joggers, pulling them down over his strong, toned legs.

My thighs squeezed together, trying to ignore the pulsing between them as he stood in front of me in a pair of tight, black boxer briefs.

Keep your eyes off his package, Sophie.

OFF THE PACKAGE!

I cleared my throat. “Your turn.” My heart sped up, the tension in the room growing with each round we played.

“We’re going to switch things up this round in order to answer your question from earlier.

This round, it will be two lies and one truth.

Guess the truth.” The audacity this man had to change the rules of the game.

“My tattoo—it says rebel because my friends picked it out, forcing me to get it since I lost a bet. It was one of those Friday the Thirteenth deals, where you pick a random tattoo of the artist’s choice, and get it for cheap.

Or, because that night we spent together all those months ago was so goddamn unforgettable, I needed a reminder of it. ”

All color drained from my face when Myles rattled off each option, my heart coming to a complete stop on the third choice. My throat tightened up on me as if he was sucking all the air out of the room. There was no way he would tattoo his body with the name I called him once .

I could go with my gut. I could answer with the last choice, but what if I was wrong?

The feeling of mortification I would feel if I was mistaken…

would be soul crushing. Myles and I lived together—I’d never be able to escape that ki nd of shame.

But if I was right, what would that even mean?

I didn’t want to be the one answering here.

My lungs released all the air I held inside. “Can I surrender my option to choose, and take off a piece of clothing instead?” My chest rose with every deep breath I took.

“If you truly don’t think you know the answer, I guess that could be an option.” His presence was demanding, his voice confident, and his stare bold. His eyes didn’t leave mine, as I ran over every option in my head.

Without answering, I stood up once again. The thought of all these months passing, and Myles had a tattoo that reminded him of me the entire time? I could feel my need for him building between my legs.

My fingers gripped the small button holding my shorts together, my eyes flickering up. “Tell me it isn’t option number one,” I demanded.

“It isn’t option number one.” He shook his head, his tongue poking out to lick his lips, watching me undo the button.

“Tell me it isn’t option number two.” His eyes roamed up my body until they met mine.

“It isn’t option number two.” It was so quiet in here, the only noise you could hear was the sound of my zipper sliding down and the speed of Myles’ breath picking up.

“Tell me why it’s option three.” I swallowed.

Myles stood and walked toward me, his hand covering the bulge forming behind his thin boxers.

“I’m a stubborn man, Sophie. I told myself that night, I would take it to my grave.

I would never admit to you that you were right.

But here I am, admitting you were right when you said you’d ruin all other women for me—that kissing you would be unforgettable and earth-shattering. ”

Is this really happening right now?

His hungry eyes looked down at my shorts when I remained silent and still. He moved my hands from my shorts, placing them around his neck.

“Sophie, I’m going to take these shorts off you now. Stop me if you don’t want it.” His voice was commanding, and once again, I stood there under his spell. I didn’t say a word—silently pleading for him to strip the shorts away from my skin.

The denim slid to the floor, his gaze taking me in, raking over my body inch by inch. My hands were still wrapped around his neck, the fear building inside me that if I let go, I’d fall.

His rough, calloused hands rounded the back of my legs, just under my ass, that I silently begged him to grab hold of.

Now that his hands were on me, I had a front row seat to his cock, growing harder by the second and daring to escape from his boxer briefs.

Myles watched me intently, my eyes falling to his waist, and before my eyes could flutter back up and meet his gaze, he picked me up, my legs wrapping around his hard body, and my stomach dropping at the sensation.

Myles walked us over to the couch, laying me down, his body hovering over mine.

Very little clothing separated the things that could happen between us.

I was seconds away from stripping the rest of the fabric off my body before my mind flickered back to that night.

Our first kiss. I’d made the same mistake so many times before—giving myself over to a guy for him to leave after he got a taste.

I told Myles he had to earn me then and wanted him to earn me now.

I refused to be an easy catch.

The idea of teasing him, working him up, leaving him wanting more, that’s what turned me on.

With Myles hovering over me, my hands roamed over the hard body he worked so hard on at the gym every day.

I explored every ridge, divot, and muscle he had to offer, his skin feeling like silk under my fingertips.

I could sense his intense stare, but my eyes focused on each surface my hands moved over.