Lyrics For Poker Face Novels & Stories

, so I sat back down on his bed and just stared at him. "I know you're staring at me. Is that how you say you love me if you're staring at me? Are you looking at me?" Ace inquired as to why I was wearing a poker face. "I'll sleep," I said, turning my face to another side; I'm sure he'll do something to me when I sleep. We had no idea that when I awoke, Ace might have hugged me. Ace's PoV

He informed me and I’ve never felt this embarrassed before him… or maybe I was starting to over exaggerate, but I did felt really embarrassed right this moment. “You can read me like an open book?” I demanded almost instantly and watched as he nodded his head once before starting to card his fingers through his hair. “Yes, bunny. I can.” He replied and closed the tiny distance and tugged on my cheek a little before continuing. “You’d suck at poker really bad, because your face is like an open board or emotions. Sometimes, whatever you’re thinking about would just be very visible on your face.”

Whatever happens, happens but I had to tell you,” I said, staring into his eyes. His face was the same as it had been, calm and patient. He had a hell of a poker face. I’m pretty sure my emotions were all over my face 90% of the time. “And I just wanted you to fuck you that day…” he said, looking down at me. I cocked my head to the side. “That’s not at all the same thing. I mean, I was acting like a whore,” I said, stating the obvious. He laughed. “So was I,” he said, and he kissed me.

I read the sentences, dazed by how my words came out. “Glorious,” I murmur. I. Snowflakes sprinkle, and my eyes flicker. In the quiet of the night, your beauty shines bright. Your sweet smile is all I can see Can you stay with me? He sings the lines in his breathy, baritone voice. His fingers fall softly on the piano, resonating with continuous mellow tones. The key belongs to the E chord family. I melt in my seat, feeling the overwhelming desire to kiss him.

I clarified He turned to look at me and I told him "eyes on the road" "As if I didn't know that. You're not a very good actress you know. And you don't have the best poker face " he told me plainly. Causing me to glare in his direction. "What?" He asked without turning his head. "Okay. Okay, but I got you for a while there" I insisted, I mean I'm not that bad. "Yea, a very short while" he answered while chuckling slightly.

He manages to land a blow to my face, which I immediately reciprocate with one of my own, followed by a kick to his shin. Another thing about Maxim is that he has the best poker face in the world. You have to know the guy through and through to be able to tell if he’s in pain or not when he has his “game face” on. He takes a barely audible intake of breath though, which is how I know my blows hurt him.

“You never win.” “That is a damn fact and why is that, anyway? You’re a shark.” “Not a shark,” she said airily as she shuffled the cards with all the cool elegance and lethal skill of a Las Vegas dealer. “I just have a good poker face.” “You do.” “It’s weird that you don’t and why is that, anyway? I’d think that you’d have needed one all those years that you and the boys were into your criminal activities. I mean – I imagine that there were times when you had to hide your thoughts, or not give anything away to an enemy or whoever.”

The shot never reached me. Dante fired first. His bullet tore through Lorenzo's wrist, and the gun clattered to the floor. Capone guards flooded the room from every direction. Lorenzo collapsed to his knees, clutching his bleeding arm. He kept his gaze fixed on me, madness burning in his eyes. "Isabella, come back and marry me! The ceremony is ready! Sophia is useless! She only cares about cake! I realized the one I truly love is you!" I laughed until tears blurred my vision.

I’d had my first kiss already, but not like this — not in front of a house full of strangers with a countdown running. “My friend’s mistaken,” I said, voice thinner than I wanted. “I’m not playing.” The crowd booed on cue. “No fun!” someone shouted from the kitchen. “Party pooper, Miss Tessy?” Ryder’s smirk didn’t move. “If you can’t do it, you drink this.” He held up a half-full bottle of whiskey like a verdict. “Are you insane?” He just nodded, entirely serious, entirely delighted with himself. I shot Sophie a look. She mouthed I’m sorry with an apologetic little air-quote.

He stood up, towering over Adrian, his hockey player’s frame blocking out the light from the window. ‎ ‎Ryder’s smirk was pure evil, a arrogant twist of lips that promised nothing but trouble. He leaned his hips against the edge of the desk, looking down at Adrian with dark, possessive eyes. Adrian sat there, chest heaving, tie undone, cock hard and glistening wetly against his stomach, looking thoroughly wrecked. ‎ ‎"You have a terrible poker face, Professor," Ryder drawled, his voice rough from the deepthroating. He reached out, trailing a finger down the side of Adrian’s flushed face. "But you taste fucking delicious."