Yes Please || c.g. {complete}

Trivial Concerns

67

.Layla.

I sat facing Carl with the box of '90s Trivial Pursuit cards in my lap, and he grinned eagerly.

"I'll start easy," I told him.

"Don't you mean you'll finish easy?" he winked.

I blushed. Anything else like that out of his mouth right now and I will toss the cards and jump him. I cleared my throat. "Anyway..." I picked up the first card, from 1999. "'What animated sports romp was the first movie to be simultaneously released in both DVD and VHS?'"

He cocked his head to the side. "I want to focus, but you said 'romp.'"

"Carl!" I laughed. "Come on. You know this movie." I played with the edge of my sweater and bit my lip as I gazed at him longingly.

"Space Jam," he blurted, watching my hands as they lifted my sweater slowly up and away.

"Very good," I grinned. "See? You can do this." I picked up another card. "'What animated movie managed to squeeze 399 obscenities and 128 lewd gestures into 80 minutes?'"

He smirked. "Well it couldn't have been a movie about me, so...South Park?"

I grinned as I took off my tank top, leaving me in just a bra on top.

Carl rubbed his hands together. "Okay, ask me something harder. I want to earn this," he said as he looked at me hungrily.

I gulped and felt a tingle between my legs. "Uh...okay, how about this one: 'Who finally stuck as Russia's prime minister, after Boris Yeltsin had fired four previous choices in 17 months?'"

He thought for a minute. "Putin?"

I smiled and nodded. I stood up to take off my jeans, intimidated as he watched my every move. "Okay, smarty pants, we're going to dial it back to 1998, now; my birth year."

"Yes...my sexy older woman," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. "'What Seattle billionaire's estate boasts a one-and-a-half story trampoline room, a salmon stream and a miniature golf course?'"

He furrowed his brow. "I don't fucking know."

I smirked. "Then you take something off."

"Aw come on," he whined. "You're gonna ask me hard ones on purpose so you can see my hot bod," he joked.

"Maybe," I winked.

He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head.

"Mmmm," I sighed appreciatively, biting my lip. "It was Bill Gates, by the way."

He laughed. "Fine. Next question."

"You better know this one, Chicago boy," I smiled. "'What Cubs great, who wears the number 21 to honor Roberto Clemente, was named 1998's Roberto Clemente Man of the Year?'"

A grin spread across his face. "Sammy Sosa."

I nodded and reached down to pull off my socks.

"Aw come on, that's bullshit," he laughed.

I smirked. "That was the turn, baby. 'What book had its 14th-century first edition fetch over $7 million at a 1998 auction?'"

He rolled his eyes. "You know I don't fucking know or care about that."

I gave him a pout. "Aww, I'm sorry. Take something off."

He stuck his tongue out at me before pulling his jeans off.