"It was a bet. Can I just get that straight? Challenging the schools most popular, arrogant, sexy, golden-quarter back to a game of strip poker was not on my to-do-list. But now that I'm in this situation, I might as well try to win."
After losing a drunken bet, Max Martinez has to challenge the schools hottest football player, Fang Ride, to a game of strip poker. But she didn't expect the night to be one they'd both remember.

So apparently doing quirky one-shots is the best way at coping with a bit of writers block. I've been working on this all day, so please do enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own MR

Sweaty bodies clouded my vision as I made my way as quickly as possible to the table with something stronger than wine coolers. The glass was easy to find, but a shot-buddy was what I was currently seeking.

"Ig, my man!" I yelled over the music that was pounding from the speakers in the corner of the room. I spotted Iggy, not necessarily 'my man' but my drinking buddy on more than one occasion.

He pushed some drunken girls' arms off his chest and made his way over to the window-sill I was leaning on beside the table. His pale-blonde hair matched his ghost-like complexion, for a guy that spent majority of his time on the basket-ball court he couldn't get a tan to save his life.

"Whoa Max, did you arrive drunk?" he laughed as he retrieved another shot glass and began to pour us some drinks. We held up our glasses, nodded in false salute and knocked the alcohol back. I flinched slightly as the liquid burned my throat then slammed my glass back down requesting another helping.

"So what's got you so worked up?" Iggy asked me, amusement evident in his voice as he wore a small smirk and re-filled his own glass.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" I slurred, one hand on my hip, the other keeping me balanced.

"Well, usually I have to guilt you into doing shots with me," Iggy raised an eyebrow as I downed my third. "I know you deny it, but you really are a lightweight Max, don't kill yourself tonight," Iggy shook his head as he walked away from the table and proceeded to dance with some seriously under-dressed cheerleaders.

I'm not a cheerleader nor do I ever plan to become one. I'm a swimmer and probably the best female swimmer in the school. Whenever somebody contradicts that, I just pummel them with all my gold medals. So needless to say I'm popular in my own way. I don't sit with the popular kids at lunch, I don't hang out with them on the weekends, but I do get invited to all the parties. The reason behind this is beyond me as I've been told by numerous people that I'm a very un-pleasant drunk. But the more invitations I get, the more possibilities to be hammered there is. But that's just the way I see it. I get okay grades and I always go to training on time, so I don't see the harm in letting loose once in a while.

"Thirty bucks says you can't down five in a row," a voice to my left said. I looked over and saw Dylan, the line-backer on the football team. He was hot, don't get me wrong. But a reputation rules out any attractiveness he has, in my book anyways. Dylan gave me his movie-star smile. His tempting eyes caused me to stare a little too long. I snapped myself out of the daze I was in and thought back to his offer.

"Is that all?" I scoffed as I set out another four shot glasses.

"Thirty bucks is a fair offer," Dylan contemplated with a smirk on his lips while he filled each glass with the same clear liquid that I had had way too much of already.

"But five is only child's play," I smirked as I held up the first glass. I looked at Dylan as he leaned against the table his arms folded wearing an arrogant look. He thought I couldn't do it.

"And what if I somehow lose?" I challenged him. Dylan pursed his lips, and after a painfully long wait he came to his conclusion.

"When you lose," I scoffed. "You can challenge my cousin Fang to a game," I raised an eyebrow.

"And what kind of game would this be?" I wondered curiously, the glass lingering beside my lips.

"Poker," he declared. "Strip poker," I tossed the first one back and slammed the glass back down hard. Breathing heavy I looked at Dylan as I felt around for the second glass.

By number four my vision was beginning to go blurry, I gulped back the fourth and dropped the glass. The smash on the ground surprised me and I stumbled back a little. Feeling two hands on my waist I began to protest but when the weight went from beneath my feet I welcomed the arm around my waist. I no longer could fully make out what I was hearing around me, only words, sentences.

"Are you crazy?"

"Are you trying to kill her?"

"I won anyway so who cares?"

I woke up before I had even made it two blocks from the house. My arm slipped from supporting my head and I banged my head against the window of the car.

"Shit," I groaned as I rubbed my hand against my forehead.

"Well that's one way to wake up," Iggy chuckled from the driver's seat. I turned my head slowly to glare at him as he kept his eyes wide on the road.

"Where are you taking me?" I moaned. I sat back in the passenger's seat and closed my eyes. But quickly shot them open and screamed. "Iggy, stop driving!"

"What why?" He panicked.

"You've been drinking," I stated dumbly.

"Yes, but I'm not as drunk as you, therefore I am perfectly capable to drive my drinking buddy the five blocks home," he nodded. "Besides, I wasn't about to leave you with Dylan, the guy's a dick,"

Dylan, drinking, the bet. Shit.

"Iggy pull over, like right now," I demanded. Flustered, Iggy stopped the car long enough for me to rip off my belt and open the car door. I began to walk in the opposite direction Iggy was previously driving. I tripped up a little so made the obvious decision to take off my heels. Carrying them, I continued to walk bare-foot back to the party.

"Max, where're you going?" Iggy called out sounding defeated and slightly frustrated at my sudden exit from the vehicle. I heard a car door slam shut and the sound of Iggy jogging to catch up to me. "Come on Max, I know you're stubborn, but you're not drinking any more tonight." I stopped as Iggy placed a hand on each of my shoulders as he attempted to turn me around.

"I made a bet," I cursed under my breath. "With Dylan," I ran a hand through my hair as I stepped away from Iggy who dropped his hands by his side.

"What kind of bet?" he asked slowly. Even drunk I could tell that Iggy was pissed beyond means of reason. I took a deep breath before answering, attempting to sober up.

"Five shots for thirty bucks," I paused letting that sink in "And strip poker against Fang if I lost," I said in a rush before bringing a finger to my mouth to bite my nail as I silently waited for Iggy's response. It felt like an age before I heard a reply come from his lips.

"I can only presume you're not going to retrieve thirty bucks."

I wandered back into the house, dropping my shoes somewhere along the way. I was still pretty drunk, but I knew what I was doing. I have this theory, that if you basically eat carbs, for example pasta or lasagne, before getting drunk, then you won't get as drunk as you would on an empty stomach and you usually remember the night the morning after. I have tested my theory multiple times, and for me anyways, it works.

Fang was your stereotypical arrogant, know-it-all, teacher's favourite kind of captain and quarter back of the school's football team. He was the guy that was the perfect player both on the pitch and on a mattress. Although he isn't as forward as Dylan can be, he always got anything that he wanted, be it girls, alcohol, or even last year's answers to the maths final exam. He may not be as perfect as everybody thinks he is.

The music was still as loud, possibly louder than it was when I left. I walked through the house searching for the golden boy. But after squeezing around couples, and one trio, of hormonal teenagers sucking one another's faces off, I bumped into just the guy I wanted to push of a bridge. Dylan.

"Back for more?" he sneered. The smell of alcohol off of his breath that was too close to my face, almost caused me to gag.

"Where is he?" I asked bluntly, refusing to take anymore to Dylan's crap.

Dylan didn't reply, he simply stood to the side and pointed me in the direction of a short but dark corridor. Confused, I looked up at Dylan who had a hard to read expression on his face.

"Third door on the left," was my send off. Uneasily I walked slowly, and a little un-balanced, down the corridor. Receiving a bitchy look from a crying cheerleader as I proceeded, gave me the impression that I was walking to my execution. But I guess, in some sense, I was.

I was counting down the doors, but quickly forgot which number I was on. God Max, I didn't know counting to three was so hard I thought to myself. Cursing under my breath I turned to the nearest door and opened it.

The sound of a girl's high pitched scream and one very drunk guy's slurring, I quickly back-tracked out of the room shoving the door shut. I hadn't even made it to steps when my face came into contact with none other than Fang Ride. I really didn't need to wear heels, because even without them, Fang and I were eye-level.

I knew that my eyes must have been embarrassingly wide and darting all over the place, trying my hardest not to make awkward eye-contact with the most popular guy in school. But somehow, Fang's expression just didn't change. He stared at me, not in surprise, or shock or anger, he just stared. And I quickly became uncomfortable under his gaze. His silent scrutiny.

"I'm sure Dylan said 'third door on the left'," Fang's voice was deep and seductive. Did I really just say that? Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought. "You went right." A hint of amusement was evident on Fang's face but as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.

I took a slight step back as I realised that we were still uncomfortably close to one another. I cleared my throat a little and took a deep breath in an attempt to sober up and get this bet over with.

"I made a bet with your cousin," This time I looked Fang in the eye. I was going to see this bet through. Besides, all I had to was challenge him, he might even say no.

"I know," Fang ran his hand through his hair, not because he was uncomfortable with the situation, I think it was because he was enjoying every second of watching my crumble in his presence.

Just like Dylan, I have a reputation too. Dylan has a reputation of sleeping with every girl he could get his dirty hands on, and I have a reputation of being bold and pretty hot-headed. I have to admit, my temper-control is something that needed work on. But in my defence, there is nothing wrong in letting the odd ass-hole jock know that I am not another 'easy' social-climbing bimbo who will spread my legs at their very command.

"So, I'm waiting," Fang smirked, a look that shockingly almost bought me to my knees. I have never had a thing for Fang, but with this much alcohol intoxicating my system, can you blame me for becoming a little weak at the knees by his God-like good-looks.

"Are you really going to make me ask?" I asked in disbelief, praying that he would save me the embarrassment of saying the words out-loud.

"Okay, I'll make this easy for you," he took a step closer. All I wanted was for him to say "Dylan's a dick, go home," or at least something along those lines. What I wasn't expecting was for Fang to place both his hands on the wall either side of my face and to lean so far in that I could feel his breath on my neck. "Challenge accepted,"

Fang led me into a room that I could only assume was a bedroom as it consisted of a bed with some very mangled bed-sheets. Three guesses as to what was going on in there. It was too un-personal to be Fang's. It looked more like the kind of room you would find in an over-priced hotel.

"You can sit on the floor," Fang told me distractedly as he retrieved a pack of cards from the top drawer of a dresser.

"Classy," I mumbled to myself. I didn't mean for Fang to hear me but he obviously did as he chuckled lowly.

"Unless you'd rather use the bed, although, I'm not sure how clean-"

"The floor is good," I cut him off and quickly sat down. I had to continuously re-arrange the way I was sitting due to the black dress I was wearing. Yeah, I know what you're all thinking. What, Max in a dress? Well, for your information, I know how to dress when I have to. But trust me, I don't put this much effort in every day.

Fang came over with not only a pack of cards but some very expensive looking whisky and two glasses. "Honestly Max, stop fidgeting," he sighed as he sat down and poured out the drink.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you too were stuck in this thing," I complained as I pulled to hem of the dress down that was already beginning to ride up again.

"Who knows, maybe you won't be in it for much longer," I looked up to glare at him but was caught off guard by his once-again amused smirk. I quickly found myself smiling with him, God that thing is contagious. He handed me a glass which I gratefully received. It was only as I was bringing the glass to my lips did I realise something.

"You know my name," I announced, slightly startled. Fang momentarily stopped dealing out the cards to look at me, his eyebrows raised.

"Is that a crime?"

"No, I mean," I stuttered slightly as Fang waited for my response. "You're Fang Ride," I shrugged "It just seems surreal that you would know my name," I shook it off and took a sip from my glass, deciding to go easy this time. Fang continued dealing out the cards which didn't take long. I gathered my hand up and examined the cards I had.

It suddenly dawned on me that I had never played poker before. I knew the basic rules, as in which card beat which, but which the confidence Fang had it was pretty obvious who was going to be the one with no clothes on at the end of the night. So I put on my best poker face and pretended that I had a clue as to what was going on.

"Why is it surreal?" Fang asked, not making eye-contact as he re-arranged the cards in his hand.

"What do you mean?"

"That I would know your name, why is it surreal?" he still hadn't looked up at me, but I was possibly putting him off with my dumb-founded stare. Did he really just ask me that?

"You're captain of the football team. Everybody knows your name, so, I don't know, I guess it was just funny that you happened to remember mine," I looked down at my cards, wondering what Fang was doing and if I should be copying his actions. I decided against it for the fear that I would make a complete fool out of myself. Although I did notice two 8's amongst my hand, which means if Fang had nothing, I get to keep my clothes on for a little longer.

"We're not all the stereotypical air-headed types you know," he told me bluntly, taking a sip of his drink.

"Well I guess you learn something new every day," I admitted. I looked up and saw Fang looking at me. He was wearing the same expression as he was out in the corridor. I had no clue what he was thinking. Why did I ever agree to play poker with the master of the poker face?

"I got nothing," Fang sighed draining his glass and helping himself to another, toping up my glass in the process.

Slowly I placed my cards on the floor as he raised an eyebrow. Cheekily I bit my bottom lip and waited for him to make his next move. Fang eyed me as he lowered his glass to the floor. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he slowly lifted his shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly toned stomach, and then tossing his shirt behind him. When his eyes met mine again I raised my eyebrows before glancing down to see he still had his socks and shoes on. If it were me, they would have been the first thing to come off.

Fang obviously took notice of the fact that I bare foot, my shoes abandoned somewhere either inside or outside the house. He sat forward and kicked off his converse along with his socks.

"These don't count," he told me as he threw them out of the way.

As I waited for my second hand, I tried my absolute best the keep my eyes focused on anything but Fang's body, which was a near-impossible task for a drunk teenage girl. I picked up my new cards and saw once again a pair. Only this time two 5's greeted me. I picked up my glass as I placed my pair on the floor, confident that I could catch Fang out again. When I took my glass away from my lips two 9's and two 7's were lying in front of an arrogant looking Fang.

Fang placed both his hands behind him and sat back, waiting for my reaction. His poker face was, for the moment, nowhere in sight. Two could play at that game. I wasted no time in fishing my hand underneath the top of my dress for my bra strap, quickly slipping my right arm out. I did the same for the left then proceeded to reach under the back of my dress and un-hook my bra, before pulling it out from underneath my dress. I held it up with one finger before repeating Fang's actions and throwing it across the room.

"Now that's just cruel," Fang admitted. I just smirked and drained my glass, which I re-filled myself.

"The beauty of the bra," I told him as he sat up straight, obviously disappointed that I wasn't currently before him in just my underwear.

"And to think that I'm half naked for you," he faked hurt as he looked at his new cards.

"Hey, if I lose two more times, I'll be completely naked," I laughed. This was drunk Max talking, sober Max would never say something like that to Fang of all people.

"I hate to say it, but you're not the only one," Fang and I shared a look before we looked back at our cards. There was a moment of silence until Fang decided to break it. "Do you have Grayson for Chemistry?" he asked. If this was Fang's version of stalling, then I was perfectly happy with it, as long as I would get to keep my clothes on.

"No, Kennedy. Why do you ask?" I took a sip from my glass.

"Oh, it's just that apparently Mr Grayson got hard in class last week," I almost choked on my drink, which as a result, burned my throat. Coughing, I placed my glass down.

"Who told you that?" I asked in disbelief. But the more I thought about it, the more realistic the idea of the creepy old teacher getting excited in class got.

"Lissa," Fang shrugged. I stared at him, now knowing that this rumour had no truth to it. "What?" he asked, obviously not being able to read the look I was giving him.

"Even though I'll give her points for making it realistic, there is no way that's true," I told him.

"Lissa wouldn't make that up," Fang said slowly, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than me.

"Please, Mr Grayson getting hard in a class that Lissa just happens to be in? Half the swim team are in that class, and trust me, that's the kind of rumour that would have spread like wild-fire," I explained as I took a drink, the burning sensation in the back of my throat now gone. "All Lissa wants is for you to think that she's so hot that even the teachers can't control themselves,"

"Really?"

"Fang, she's an attention seeker," I sighed bluntly. There was an awkward silence as Fang took in this new information about the most popular girl in school. Boys could be so clueless. "You don't have a thing for her, do you?"

"No," Fang practically yelled instantly "Absolutely not. Ask her that and she'd probably say something completely different though," Fang rubbed the back of his neck.

Getting back to the game I lay out my five cards to reveal no pairs of anything. I sighed and waited for Fang to gloat in the fact that he had won this round. But instead of leaning back once again, or his lips forming that angelic yet demonic smirk, his mouth just seemed to hang for a moment. He didn't say anything, just stared at the cards.

"You have definitely played this before," he looked at me with an expression of disbelief mixed with amusement. I wasn't sure how to respond so I looked back down at my cards. It took me a moment to realise but there it was. A royal flush.

"Beginners luck I guess," I laughed like a little school girl. How embarrassing.

Fang looked torn between his dignity and his stubbornness. Reluctantly he took his pants off, only this time he didn't look my in the eye, he just seemed in shock that he was actually loosing. With his pants now across the room and downing yet another glass of whiskey, he began to give out the cards again for what could be the final time if he was unlucky enough.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?" he asked me randomly, this guy sure was one for the questions.

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" I retorted back at him, not really wanting to get into this conversation with the hottest guy in school who was currently almost naked.

"No but really, you're gorgeous, you're honest, good to talk to and sure can hold it together despite all the alcohol you've consumed tonight,"

"You think I'm gorgeous?"

Fang seemed frozen on the spot. He clearly did not mean to say that out loud. He kept his eyes locked on his hands, containing his cards before slowly looking up to meet my astonished gaze. Fang looked at me for a moment like a deer in headlights before he dropped his cards placed his head in his hand then downed his glass of whisky.

"We should keep playing," I decided, unsure of how I felt at what was possibly about to happen.

"No, Max, I need to say something," Fang looked just as distressed as I was.

"Maybe I should just go actually," I began to stand up but was quickly pushed back down and laid less-than-smoothly on to my back. Fang placed both his hands on the floor either side of my head and was currently hovering over me. He lowered himself, his face only inches from mine.

"I told Dylan to make that bet with you because I knew you'd lose," Fang admitted looking as if he needed to cry. "And if you didn't lose I told him to make sure that you did," Fang placed a hand on the side of my face as he looked straight into my eyes. "I have never wanted a girl as badly as I want you right now Max,"

Is it possible to fall in love with someone after only a few short hours together? No, those are the kind of stories that are saved for Hollywood and Nicholas Sparks novels. But is it possible to want to make love to someone after only a few short hours together? Absolutely.

I quickly wrapped my arms around Fang's neck and closed to limited space between us. There was nothing sweet and tender about our kiss initially, it was exciting and electrifying. Fang wasn't the lovey-dovey type. He said things as they were and so did I. I like to think that I don't give up easily, but giving Fang dominance was the best decision I ever made.

I wrapped my legs around Fangs waist as he sat up so that I was straddling him. He made little work of taking my dress off that was easily pulled over my head. The fact that I wasn't wearing a bra didn't even matter to me. The next thing I know, I'm being carried towards the bed, not once though did Fang break the kiss. We were like magnets, refusing to let go of one another, like no force in the world could tear us apart.

The rest of our clothing was discarded without a moment of hesitation.

I had slept with guys before, but that's all I had ever done. We'd have sex, we'd get up and put our clothes back on, and then pretend that it never happened. That is ultimately what a drunken one night stand was. But with Fang it was completely different. Every movement seemed to be the perfect one, each kiss brought on a wave of anticipation as to when the next one would be. And waking up beside him the next morning was surreal yet felt so normal.

Fangs arm was draped across my stomach and there was a sense of comfort in knowing it was there. As I shifted to face him I must have stirred him wake up because he instantly groaned and I shut froze in place. If my knowledge of Fang's previous relationships was correct, then Fang had never had a proper girlfriend before. Which had me asking myself, was I the first girl he has ever woken up with?

Panic began to settle in as thought about last night. I knew my theory worked, because I remembered every part of the evening. But would Fang remember? Would he be embarrassed?

I decided to get it over with and sat up. My idea being to just get up, find my clothes and get the Hell out of here, without mentioning last night to anybody. But Fang's arm gripping onto my waist and pulling me back down beside him eliminated any plans I had of leaving.

"Honestly Max, even without your clothes on you can't sit still,"

He remembered everything.

"I think maybe next time, we'll skip the poker," he kissed my bare shoulder as he held me closer to him.

"Forget next time, how about right now?" I smirked and turned to look at Fang who shared a similar expression. Once again I was underneath Fang, and reliving last night's events.

Review for my first ever one-shot?