The Boss's New Plaything

by Layla Valentine

  Jay doesn’t need to hide his expressions. He doesn’t show them at all. Through every second of the game, he’s calm. Petit, on the other hand, is probably too vain to even think of hiding his face.

  Even though I can’t follow every single move, I understand the basics of what’s going on. Two players fold. Jay calls a raise, which makes me take a sharp breath.

  The woman sitting next to me leans in close. “I love your dress,” she whispers.

  “Thanks,” I whisper back. She’s wearing a dress that’s fit for a Hollywood red carpet, so it’s nice to see that I didn’t overdress at all.

  “Who are you here for?” she asks.

  “Him,” I reply, nodding in Jay’s direction.

  “Ah.” She smiles. “Jay Hammond. A living legend.”

  Living legend? If I had any doubt as to whether Jay was a big deal at the card tables, it’s now completely evaporated.

  The game goes on, each hand seeming to take longer than the last. There are buzzing whispers from behind me, but the room is surprisingly quiet. All of these people are just standing or sitting, waiting.

  Petit’s upper lip curls in Jay’s direction, but Jay acts as if he doesn’t even notice the surly Belgian. Pride swells in my chest. Petit may be from the upper crust, but Jay is from the streets. He knows how much to show, and when to show it. After spending just twenty-four hours with him, I’m convinced that he could intimidate a grizzly bear with that cool stare of his.

  I’m lost in my thoughts, wondering just how long these games usually last when, suddenly, Jay lays his cards flat on the table. A cheer goes up from the crowd, and Petit bares his teeth like a wild animal.

  And Jay just gazes back. If he’s won, he’s not acting like it.

  But then, all the poker chips are pushed his way. Jay’s face lights up, and an official-looking man steps forward to shake his hand. The room explodes with life and excitement.

  A voice comes on over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, the game is over! That’s one million dollars, to Jay Hammond!”

  One million dollars. The number rings in my ears. That’s a lot of money to make in one night…a whole lot of money.

  The woman next to me claps excitedly. “Oh my God, he won! You must be so proud of him,” she shouts over the noise.

  I nod eagerly. I am proud. I just don’t know if I’m in the right position to show how proud I am.

  Standing up, I smooth my dress over my hips. I want to walk over to Jay, to part the crowd around him and wrap my hand in his, to kiss him and tell him he’s the most amazing guy in the world.

  But we barely know each other—despite everything we’ve shared and done over the last day and night. Maybe his winning all of this money has changed how he feels about me. Maybe I was nothing but a woman for him to blow off some steam with before the big tournament.

  I bite my lip and turn away. It’s suddenly hard to breathe. The air in the large room is thick and oppressive.

  Winding and pushing a path through the crowd, I make my way out into the hallway. There, I brace my hand against the wall and take in long, deep breaths. I’m out of my league. I’m just a boring, normal girl from New York. What am I doing, falling for someone like Jay?

  He could have any woman in this casino. I think of the gorgeous woman who sat next to me. In a place that was probably full of supermodels and heiresses, why on earth would Jay want me?

  “I have something that can help with that.”

  The voice makes me straighten up and turn around in the blink of an eye. Petit stands only a few feet away, a flask in his hand. He tilts the little metal container toward me, offering a drink.

  “No thanks,” I respond tartly.

  “It’s not drugged.”

  Right.

  “I’m fine,” I reiterate.

  “I’m sure,” he replies sarcastically, unscrewing the flask and taking a drink of whatever is inside. “Why aren’t you in there, celebrating with your boyfriend? Did he forget about you already?”

  Petit’s cruel question is salt on the wound I had already opened. Somehow, this guy always knew the wrong thing to say. He should quit gambling and make a career out of being a professional asshole.

  I blink fast in order to keep back tears, and defiantly raise my chin at him. “I’m meeting up with him later.”

  Petit frowns. “That’s sweet, but don’t feel bad if he forgets to find you in this crowd.”

  “He won’t,” I spit.

  Petit shrugs, as if to say, ‘who knows?’

  “It’s normal, you know,” he says. “It happens a lot. Men win big, and then their egos bloat. They forget all about their lives before…the things that once mattered, the people who were there for them.”

  “I’m sure you know all about bloated egos.”

  His eyes instantly narrow and his nostrils flare. With the verbal tables turned, he’s suddenly not so calm. One sour word at this man and it’s like poking a bear. Not that he doesn’t ask for it.

  “Where did you say you were from?” he asks.

  “I didn’t.”

  He snorts. “What manners… Perhaps you and Hammond are a perfect fit, after all.”

  He roots around in his jacket’s breast pocket and pulls out a card before offering it to me. “My room number is on here. If Hammond forgets to find you later, you’ll have somewhere to go.”

  Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow it with a burning gulp. Petit didn’t even have to write his room number on the card. He just walks around with it ready to go, so that when he meets a woman, he can go ahead and offer her an easy hook-up.

  Ew. Just how many women has this disgusting man already given his card to tonight?

  “Lauren.” The voice is smooth and deep, with a hint of surprise in it.

  Two seconds later, Jay is next to me, his arm around my waist and his piercing gaze on Petit.

  Petit’s lips curl into a sneer. “So, you managed to extricate yourself from the hoard of beautiful women, after all. I saw that blonde watching you, Hammond. She looks like a fiery one.”

  The comment is an indirect blow, meant to shake me and bring me down even more. I clench my jaw and keep my expression smooth. Just because some people are incapable of having a poker face, doesn’t mean I’m one of them.

  Plus, Jay being by my side means I have a confidence I didn’t have before. I might have my doubts about our future, but that doesn’t mean his presence doesn’t soothe and strengthen me.

  Jay’s words are smooth and cool. “I was looking for the one beautiful woman in here worthy of my attention, if that’s what you mean.”

  My heart swells. I no longer care about Petit or anything he says. The worries in my head are fading, and the joy in my heart is growing. Jay was looking for me. He still wants to be around me.

  Petit’s bushy brows press together. “See you in Monte Carlo,” he snarls, before stomping off.

  Jay turns to me. “I’m assuming he cornered you out here. I’m sorry about that.”

  I wrap my arms loosely over his shoulders. “No, don’t worry about it. I think he probably came out here looking for a fight. You did say he’s a sore loser…Hey. Congratulations. A million dollars! I mean, wow…” I shake my head in disbelief.

  “It’s a start.”

  “A…start?”

  “For the summer.” I must look confused, because he continues. “I’ve won more.”

  He lightly traces the side of his thumb down my jaw, his eyes lingering on my lips. I want to ask him just how much money he’s won gambling, but not only is that an inappropriate question, the way he’s touching me has my mind clouding up.

  “You were amazing out there,” I whisper. “You were so calm.”

  “There’s no other way to be.”

  Jay pulls me closer, and my face presses into the side of his neck. His pulse throbs against my lips and I inhale his delicious scent.

  “What do you want to do now?” he softly asks.

  I close my ey
es and shrug. All I want, is to be close to him. I don’t care where we are or what we do. All of my fear from earlier has dissipated. Jay wants me just as much as I want him. Everything is still going great.

  “Kiss me,” Jay says.

  Before I can respond, he’s tilting my face up and pressing his lips against mine. The butterflies are back, just like they are every time Jay is near.

  After a long, slow kiss, he pulls his face back. “Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?”

  “I think you did earlier, right before you pushed my dress up.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he muses. “That.”

  “But feel free to keep telling me,” I quickly say. “Hearing it never gets old.”

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “Will do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jay

  I wind my fingers through Lauren’s and step out into the blinding light of the night. Blinding light of the night, I think with a small smile. There’s something I never thought I would say—mostly because it doesn’t make sense.

  But in Macau, it does. Especially after you’ve won one of the biggest poker games of the year. Cameras flash and reporters rush forward to ask questions, but I put my hand up and ignore them. Sometimes, I’m in the mood for interviews. Tonight, I’m not. I’m on the biggest winning streak I’ve had in years. There’s one million dollars headed straight for my bank account.

  And, there’s a sexy, intelligent woman by my side. I’m not in the mood to have anything to do with anyone else.

  I push our way toward the waiting limo, making sure Lauren is safely inside before climbing in after her. The second the door closes, and I pull her to me. Her hair falls around my face, creating a screen while we kiss. The shouting, cheering, and honking is still going on outside of the luxury car, but it all seems a million miles away.

  All that exists is what’s right here, in my hands.

  Lauren breaks the kiss with a breathy sigh. The sound is heaven. Already, I’m buzzing with the need to get that sexy black dress off her.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  I pull her all the way into my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck and looks down at me expectantly.

  “Wherever you want to go,” I promise.

  Lauren shakes her head. “This is your night.”

  “And I want to celebrate it with you.”

  Her lashes flutter. “Really?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  Her full lips turn up into a smile. “I don’t care where we go.”

  Lusty hunger fills me. Not for the first time, the thought of skipping the after-parties and clubs and just taking her back to my hotel room crosses my mind. But everything good is worth waiting for, and I don’t just want to get Lauren into bed again. I want to show her the city. I want to hear her laugh, to have her dance next to me. I want to enjoy her company in every way possible.

  “I have somewhere I want to take you,” I say, playing with some of the sequins on her dress.

  The club we go to is one of the most exclusive in Macau—as well as one of the most intimate. The VIP area sits above the rest of the club, roped off and watched over by several burly bodyguards. It takes no time at all to get a table, and Lauren and I collapse onto the cushions of a red couch, our hands still locked together.

  The cocktail waitress brings us a bottle of vodka and all of the mixers, and I pour us each a drink. Lauren is already swaying in her seat, her shoulders and hips gently moving.

  She stands up and continues to dance, her eyes on me as she moves backward across the floor. The dark club throbs around her, full of bodies and music, but everything else is just blurry. Lauren is all that exists in the world. With her dancing in front of me, not even the night’s winnings matter, anymore.

  When was the last time I felt this way—like there was something for me to hold on to at the end of the day?

  I can’t answer that, and it doesn’t matter. Lauren is taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. Our bodies push together in a natural way that’s more rhythmic than the music pounding through the speakers. Her lithe body slides along mine, the perfect fit in every way.

  We dance until there’s nothing but the music and us, holding each other. Lauren and I are in a vacuum, living and breathing apart from the rest of the universe. I can barely remember my own name. All I know is her taste, her scent, and her soft skin under my palms.

  Dizziness floods my senses, but it’s not the alcohol, and it’s not the new million dollars in my name. It’s the primal urge to claim the woman pressed against me. I’ve made her mine before, but I need to do it again.

  “I need to get you alone,” I whisper into Lauren’s ear as she grinds her ass against me.

  She flips her hair and looks into my eyes. Even in the dim lighting, the desire in her gaze is obvious.

  Back in the limo, she’s on my lap the second the door closes. Our hands seem to be everywhere at once: on each other’s faces, on our torsos, on the insides of thighs.

  I suck the hollow of Lauren’s throat and she rolls her head back and rocks her hips against me. My cock jerks to attention, hard and throbbing.

  Taking the front of her dress in both hands, I roll the fabric back and release her plump and perky breasts. Her nipples are hard as pebbles, with goosebumps surrounding them. Licking my lips, I lower my face and draw one of the firm nubs between my teeth.

  Lauren whimpers in pleasure. I make my sucks slower, alternating each one with a rolling of my tongue.

  “Jay,” she pleadingly whispers.

  Her quiet cry sends my body into overdrive. I need this woman right this second. No more waiting.

  Still sucking on her breasts, I push her dress up and slip a finger under her panties. Her pussy is warm and wet, ready for me. With a teasing flick on her clit, I nudge my finger into her opening. Lauren pushes greedily against me.

  Without warning, the limo comes to a stop. Pulling my face away from her breasts, I glance out the window. “Shit. We’re here.”

  “Huh?” she asks, sounding confused.

  I pull her dress back down and give her a quick kiss. “We need to get upstairs, now, or else I’m going to have my way with you in the lobby.”

  Lauren’s cheeks flush and her lashes flutter. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the thought of me fucking her in the middle of the hotel excited her.

  Christ. Maybe it does.

  Taking her hand once more, I pull her into the elevator. The whole ride up to my floor, I’m wondering how I got so lucky to score such a woman. She’s beautiful. Intelligent. Kind. And a fucking tiger in bed.

  I force myself to stop kissing Lauren as the elevator climbs closer to my floor, knowing the guards the casino sent to deliver my money to my room will be in the corridor. Sure enough, three of them solemnly stand near the elevator. I give them a nod and walk on. One more second not spent alone with Lauren and I’m going to explode.

  Unlocking the door to my suite, I pull Lauren over the threshold and twirl her around. After I set her down, she walks into the foyer and then stops with a gasp.

  “That’s a lot of money,” she quietly says.

  I wrap my arms around her from behind and take in the stacks of fresh bills on the coffee table. I was there at the casino when the bills were counted, and I should probably count them again now, but I almost don’t give a fuck if I’m a thousand or two short. Not with Lauren’s firm, sexy body under my hands.

  She turns around to face me, her hands pressed against my chest. “What’s it like to win?”

  No one’s ever asked me that before. They’ve said, ‘how exciting’, and other things like that, but they’ve always just assumed that I feel a certain way when I win a game. Now, I pause for a second and give some real thought to the answer.

  “It’s peaceful,” I finally say, my eyes flicking between her and the money. “When I realize that I have that hand, that one that can change it all, it’s like this wave of peace comes over me.”

/>   It’s a lot like what happens when I’m with you.

  With a start, I realize what’s so special about Lauren. When I’m around her, the world calms down. Or maybe I just don’t hear its noise as much. She takes up every ounce of my attention.

  One hour spent with her is better than a million dollars, any day.

  “Take that dress off,” I say, stepping back so I can get a full view of her.

  She licks her lips and slowly unzips the dress, then steps out of it. She’s almost completely naked, with nothing on but heels and a thong. Though I’m aching with the need to touch her, I take my time walking a full circle around her, surveying each inch of her delicious body. Lauren watches me watching her, her breasts rising and falling with each breath.

  Moving swiftly, I gather her into my arms. Lauren yelps, but her shriek quickly turns into giggles as I carry her to the long table along the wall.

  Soon, her giggles become moans. With my tongue playing with hers, I knead her breasts, pinching her nipples between my fingers. Lauren’s legs open wide and I push myself against her. The table is the perfect height for what I intend to do. Taking my hands down to her hips, I seize her panties and rip them in half. Lauren gasps in shock.

  “Those weren’t important, were they?” I ask, tossing the pieces of fabric over my shoulder. Lauren shakes her head. “Good.”

  I cover her mouth with mine, this fresh kiss wild and unchecked. With our tongues thrusting against each other, I unzip my pants and pull my cock out. Lauren grabs it right away, eagerly pushing it toward her opening.

  Coiling her loose hair around my fist, I hold her hips tight and sink deep into her. Her muscles squeeze around me right away, accepting and eager.

  I urge Lauren’s mouth open wider, thrusting my tongue as far back as it will go. She welcomes me like a good girl, giving herself completely over to me. In our short time together, I’ve discovered that the way she sometimes lets go is one of the best things about her. It can be in bed, on the dance floor, or with her laughter. It doesn’t matter, though. When she lets loose, it’s a beautiful phenomenon to behold.