Thanks for the kind reviews, and here's the next instalment as promised. In the battle of the sexes, who stands to gain the upper 'hand', who's got the best 'pair' and will Alex get a 'flush' ? (Groan!)

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Chapter 2

Alex watched as he shuffled the cards yet again. Did she detect a slight tremble of the hands, an almost imperceptible nervousness in her usually impassive DCI? The trademark pout was still in place but suddenly the atmosphere was charged with electricity. She went through a mental checklist. Shoes, two. Cardi, blouse, skirt. If she reached that stage, hopefully the underwear would be enough to throw him completely off his game.

She thought back to the evenings spent playing cards with her lovely grandfather when her parents were working late, and smiled when she remembered his conspiratorial wink as he left each time. Her mother thought she was learning Beggar My Neighbour and Snap when really she was becoming a whizz at Poker and Blackjack. When she went to secondary school she spent every break time playing cards and learning new games with other likeminded girls. Ah, happy days. Gene Hunt, you have no idea what is about to hit you, she thought, trying to contain her excitement.

"You planning on actually dealing sometime before Christmas, Gene?"

The wine was beginning to kick in, and she felt powerful and confident. She took a steadying breath. Keep a firm grip, Alex, he won't be an easy opponent.

He dealt the first hand, and waited to see how many cards she wanted to exchange. And then he sat back with a satisfied smile.

"Read 'em and weep, Bols."

Damn. His three of a kind beat her two pairs, and she removed a shoe, smiling through gritted teeth and trying to ignore his smug grin. She'd show him yet.

The next two hands went to her, and she grinned as he pouted, sitting opposite her in his stockinged feet.
He was soon smiling again though, when he produced three kings to beat her two jacks. All to play for, then. He sat back, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Beginner's luck, presumably?"

She met his gaze, all wide eyes and innocence.

"Seems so. Think I might be getting the hang of it, actually."

He raised an eyebrow laconically.

"Oh good. I wouldn't wanna win too easily, after all."

She smiled sweetly as he dealt again. Four spades, ace high. It had to be worth the gamble. She exchanged the one heart and turned her card over with trepidation. Another spade. Gotcha, Guv.

He turned over his pair of kings and looked at her enquiringly. It was all she could do to keep the grin off her face.

"Oh look. Five shovels."

He pouted at her, eyes narrowed.

"Very funny, Bols. Who taught yer then? Out with it."

She smiled.

"Grandad. And some naughty schoolgirls."

He closed his eyes and sat back with his hands behind his head, a smile playing around his lips.

"We were fully clothed at all times, Gene."

Leaning forwards, he fixed her with those come to bed eyes, and his lascivious expression sent a shiver down her spine.

"Not in my fantasy, Bols. Well worth losing a sock for."

He raised his trouser leg and slowly rolled it down over his ankle like a stripper, finishing by twirling it around and throwing it across the table at her. She caught it, giggling, and pretended to sniff it.

"Hmmm, not too offensive. I'm touched, Gene. You even changed your socks in my honour."

She looked surreptitiously down at his bare foot as he was dealing the next hand. God, even his feet were sexy. Concentrate, Alex. You need to beat him one hand at a time.

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Ten minutes later, they were getting down to the nitty gritty. Gene had two bare feet and no belt. Alex had lost the other shoe and her cardi. What was she wearing under her skirt, he wondered. Stockings or tights? Even though the former meant an extra item of clothing, he had his fingers crossed, metaphorically speaking.

Three fives beat her two queens, and his gaze held hers.

"What's it to be then, Bols?"

She stood up slowly, her eyes never leaving his, and the air seemed to crackle round them. Reaching behind her, she slid the zip of her skirt down and wriggled out of it seductively revealing stocking tops and a flash of suspender below the hem of her blouse. He let out the breath he'd been holding as she sat down again.

"Bloody hell, Bols. At this rate yer'll give me a heart attack before I can beat yer …"

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