SLAM!
The sound of the hand hitting the wood echoed through the stone room.
"Sixty-eight," Belladonna panted.
Her voice was a little breathless, her face was flushed with a deep crimson colour that almost matched her lips. She looked intoxicated, but her grip was still firm.
Leo winced, rubbing his arm with his free hand. His arms were starting to feel a bit sore from all the loosing.
"Ouch," Leo grinned, shaking out his hand, "You play rough, Bandit Queen. And it is turning me on."
He reset his elbow on the table, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"But this next one? This is the big one. Match sixty-nine," Leo's grin widened. "My lucky number. I have a feeling the positions are about to flip."
Belladonna frowned, confused by the specific emphasis, Taking a deep breath to focus, she asked.
"Sixty-nine? Is that a Zarth combat formation? Or a some Temple of Light superstition I am unaware of?"
