<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=8473.msg320074#msg320074">Quote from: Ixy on 24-02-2007, 02:52:41</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">She blinks at the numbers... does it say 5 times..?  Talk about throwing a wrench into the game... anyone trying to 'read' Sally's face wouldn't be sure if she's reacting to the bonus or the hand that the wild card makes.<br/><br/>"I have to burn something made of silk..?"  She blinks rapidly, trying to remember what kind of underwear she's wearing... fuck, anything silk? Looking around the room, she notes that, even though the suite is luxurious, silk sheets or pillowcases would be simply too much to ask for... "Look... here's the deal."  She passes her eye from player to player.  "First person to give me a scrap of silk gets $50."<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Lucan lifts his empty glass toward the hostess, who fills it from a condensation-laden pitcher of water behind the bar.  He continues, not even acknowledging her.  He narrows his eyes at the players, smiling devilishly.  "I'm betting that Jim's been known to don silk boxers from time to time... but is just as likely to go commando as not, so it's anybody's guess."<br/><br/>He tilts his face toward Cynthia, who has been excruciatingly silent.  "I'm guessing that you might have worn something silk under there today... it is, after all, a special day, is it not?"<br/><br/>Cynthia, seeming mortified-- why, after all, should she be?  Unless she is aware of something the others are not...<br/><em>"Excuse me," she speaks, the words only half-formed from her distraction.  She looks slightly flushed, and folds her arms over her chest as she heads to one of the adjoining restrooms.  "I'm... not feeling well."  She closes the door.  </em><br/><br/>He turns his gazed levelly to the youngest woman again, his warm, dark eyes flashing with the seeming good-nature of his comments.  "You know, Sally, I was in a relationship once... different time, different place.  I won't bore you with details... well, I hope not, anyway..."  He sips from the glass and watches her over the transparent rim.  Light glints from the surface like diamonds.<br/><br/>"But my..." he twists the next word like a teasing pinch at delicate flesh, "<em>lady</em>friend had a bit of a garment collection.  And I, of course, spent a reasonable amount of time focusing my attention on her undergarments."  He sips briefly.  "Laundry days, you see.  And she had a particular collection in a shell blue, ivory white, classic black and Valentine's red that, for some reason, remind me of..." the unspoken 'you' is as clear unsaid as if projected onto the wall, "...this moment.  You see, while being lace-- and quite lovely, might I add-- they had a very tiny silk waistband..." he draws a line with thumbs and forefingers just apart, indicating the delicate garment's hem, "and a little silk bow, smaller than a thumbnail."<br/><br/>His eyes burn into hers for a moment, then he relaxes.  "Wouldn't that be some coincidence?"  He leans back to wait for the bets.<br/><br/>"Oh, and, as for my wildcard, I truly would like to know if you all want to double the bets from this hand out."  He smiles to Andi.  "It hasn't been doubled yet..."  Noting her glances toward the hostess, he smiles very faintly and sits back.<br/><br/>The hostess might, indeed, be wearing silk.  Best to ask.