* * *
“I think we both know what I need.”
* * *
He swiveled away from the table and patted his thigh. “Come here.”
* * *
I ignored the invitation and picked up his water, eyeing the low level in his glass. “Want a real drink?”
* * *
“No.”
* * *
He watched me clear the trash from his cigar. I glanced at the end of the cigar, the expensive Cuban only half smoked. I grabbed the matchbook and flipped it open, dragging the match across the surface and holding it to the end of the cigar, letting the flame lick up the thin paper ends. I put the end in my mouth and sucked on it, my eyes on Dario. The corner of his mouth lifted. He reached out for me and I let him pull me onto his lap, his arm curving around my waist. The dealer paused, a card in hand, and Dario nodded.
* * *
I watched her distribute cards to him and the old man at the end, the only other player left at the table. I took a drag off the end, the dry taste reminding me of Sunday afternoons at home, my father sprawled over the end of the couch, football on the television. Once he stopped drinking, cigars had been his vice. Cigars and the Steelers.
* * *
Dario tilted his hand up. Queens. Two pale faces, both with crowns, sitting ducks in his hand. I looked at the cards and saw myself in one of them, Gwen in another.
* * *
“Should I split?”
* * *
I shrugged, looking away from the Queens before I ripped them in half. “You don’t want my advice. I’m terrible at cards.”
* * *
It was half true. Poker was my game. Blackjack was my curse.
* * *
He flipped over the second queen and divided the cards, sliding five purple chips to match his original bet. And just like that, the stakes were doubled. Fifty grand. I drew on the end of his cigar and felt a little dizzy. He took it from me and brought it to his lips, his eyes on mine, his face close enough to kiss. It was erotic, the way he closed his mouth around it, the way his eyes glowed when he inhaled.
* * *
The dealer flipped a card over, setting it next to the first Queen. An Ace. Lucky girl. Dancing with the best card in the deck.
* * *
The second queen got her card, and I let out a disappointed breath at the result. A six. Paired with the Queen, it was the worst hand in Blackjack. A terrible omen—one Queen with the Ace, one with the six. It wasn’t hard to figure out who I was in this screwed-up analogy.
* * *
The dealer flipped over her cards. Nineteen. She slid Dario’s chips together and knocked on the table, indicating the wash.
* * *
He leaned into my body and spoke quietly, his words warm against my neck. “Come to the suite tonight. Please.”
* * *
Please. I don’t know that any one word had ever had such power over me. I tried to push off his lap and to my feet, but he held me in place.
* * *
“I’m going fucking nuts without you. Please. Just for tonight.”
* * *
This time, when I pushed off his thighs, he let me. I stubbed his cigar out on the table and grabbed his water, taking a sip of it before nodding to his chips. “You’re cut off. We’re closing up for tonight.”
* * *
“Is that a yes?” He waited for a response and I wavered, my head a little loopy from the cigar.
* * *
“Maybe.”
* * *
It was enough for him and he sat forward, pulling a chip from the stack and tossing it toward the dealer.
* * *
“Need a chip rack?” I asked. He nodded, and I turned to the older man, one who now stacked his chips with unsteady hands. “You too, Mr. Rodriguez?”
* * *
The man nodded and I grabbed the ashtray.
* * *
“I’ll wait for you outside.” Dario stood.
* * *
“I can drive myself.” If I go. I wanted to add those three words, fought to speak them aloud, but couldn’t.
* * *
“I’ll wait.”
* * *
I didn’t respond, but on the way to the cage, I caught myself smiling and forced the gesture into a frown.
We left my car in the parking lot of The House. I figured, with the birthday boy’s tip in my purse, I could more than afford a taxi home if Dario pissed me off.
* * *
“I’m sorry for being a hypocrite.”
* * *
I turned to him, watching as he easily shifted the gears, easily manipulating the Aston Martin. It was the first time I’d seen him behind the wheel, the muscles in his forearms lit by the neon lights we passed.
* * *
“You know, I thought, for a little bit, that I might be okay with your marriage arrangement.” I watched a drunk stumble almost into the street, then catch himself. It made me think of my dad, and how many nights we had picked him up from some back alley in Mohave. He had caused so much destruction in our lives, so much financial instability. But my mother had stuck by him, telling me that the vows they’d made were too important to discard. I couldn’t easily accept that Gwen should be discarded either. He’d told me how our relationship could ruin his marriage, and I didn’t want that burden on my shoulders. I thought I could bear it . . . “But it’s too hard for me.”
* * *
“I haven’t had a physical relationship with Gwen for over a decade.” He said the words quietly.
* * *
“You aren’t with Gwen and you’ve ended things with everyone else. So…” I did my best mental calculation of the time. “You’ve been celibate for… three weeks now?” I coughed out a laugh, my throat still raw from the cigar smoke. “I don’t know if I believe you.”
* * *
He shifted into a lower gear and gave a sound that closely resembled a growl. “I don’t care if you believe me. I’m not keeping my dick dry if you plan on seeing other people.”
* * *
“I’d rather you sleep with half of the city than be married. I can stop dating people. You can’t stop being married.”
* * *
“Sure I can. It’s called divorce. People do it all the time.”
* * *
I looked away, my hand tightening on the strap of the seatbelt. “Don’t be stupid. You’re not going to get a divorce.”
* * *
He fell silent, and the tension in the car thickened. I cracked the window, needing some fresh air.
* * *
His hand settled on my knee and his grip tightened a little as if afraid to let go of me. “Sometimes, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
* * *
If I was a different one, the sort who had fallen in and out of love a half-dozen times, I might have laughed, scoffing at the unsure declaration.
* * *
But in that car, and with his man … the words felt heavy and worthwhile, like a giant blow to the foundation of his life.
* * *
Sometimes, I think I’m falling in love with you.
* * *
I dropped my hand to his, and threaded my fingers through his, pulling it away from my knee and lifting it to my mouth. I pressed my lips to the back of his hand and inhaled the scent of his skin.
* * *
Sometimes, I feel the same way. I swallowed the words but still, my heart soared.
Twenty-Three
He pulled his dress shirt over his head, revealing the delicious stretch of his torso. It was knotted with muscles, the thick cords pulling, then relaxing, as he tossed the navy blue shirt aside. He reached over to turn on the shower and glanced over at me. I stayed in place, one hip against the bathroom counter. He dropped his hand from the shower knob and came closer. His presence had a heat, an energy, one that lit my skin on fire before his hands even reached for me. I straightened and he skimmed his palms u
nder my shirt and pulled it over my head.
* * *
“You have no idea of just how much I wanted to lay you back on that poker table.” He popped the top button of my shorts and carefully pulled down the zipper, leaning forward and kissing my shoulder, his teeth tugging playfully at my bra strap. He released it and worked the shorts over my hips, crouching down to slide them down my legs.
* * *
“One night, I’m taking you downstairs. I’m closing off VIP and I’m going to spread you wide open on the felt. I want to make you scream to the sound of slot machines and watch the footage later when I need to jack off.” He growled the words, and they poured kerosene on my need. I shivered in the bathroom’s cool air, and he quickened his movements, hooking his fingers under the edges of my panties and yanking them down. He turned me around, running his hands up the backs of my legs and over my ass, a groan coming from him as he gently slapped me. I arched my back, pulling the bra loose when he undid the clasp. I turned, reaching for his belt.
* * *
“No.” He pushed my hands away and nodded to the shower, the glass already fogging up. “Get in and warm up.”
* * *
I dipped my fingers under the hem of his pants and pulled, stealing a peek inside before I spun away from him and stepped into the shower.
* * *
God, this shower. Big enough for four people, it had body jets, an overhead rain head, and two handheld massagers. I felt the water hit me from all directions and closed my eyes, stepping under the overhead, my body temperature instantly rising.
* * *
I need this shower. This alone was almost worth swallowing my pride and moving in. He opened the door, stepped into the fog, and I remembered the other reason. More access to him. Huge shoulders, the rigid cut of muscles, deep notches of abs, his thick cock hanging, beckoning. I reached for it as he moved closer, wrapped my hand around it and felt it stiffen in response.
* * *
“Easy there.” He pushed me away, turning me to the bank of nozzles, and hot spray peppered my stomach as his big hands rubbed in soap, massaging my shoulders and back and sliding between the crack of my ass.
* * *
“I went fucking nuts inside when I saw you sit on that boy’s lap.” He nipped at my neck, scraping his teeth against the skin as his touch swept over my hip and moved in between my legs, opening up my thighs, his fingers teasing across my clit, a swirl of delicious pleasure. My mouth dropped open, my head fell back against his and I opened my legs wider, wanting more.
* * *
“It made me want to take you while he watched.” He pushed his fingers inside of me, the thick insertion making me moan, my body clenching in response. “I’d make him sit there, his dick limp and useless, and see what you really need.”
* * *
“Fat chance,” I gasped, reaching out and bracing a hand against the stone tile, my hips thrusting against the movements of his fingers. “You’d have to fuck me in order to do that.”
* * *
He growled, and I suddenly felt the press of a wet finger, hard against the hole of my ass. He kept his other hand working, his fingers dipping in and out of me with slick and fluid precision, each mini-thrust hitting my g-spot and turning my world fuzzy, my orgasm close, the new pressure on my ass turning up the dial in a way my body might not be able to handle.
* * *
He pressed harder, and the entry was so thick, it could only be his thumb. My world went black, my ass constricting, and the additional stimulation broke my orgasm free with blinding intensity. Waves of hot, filthy pleasure expanded and flexed my body as his fingers moved, working me over. I screamed, my hand clawing at the wall, my body fighting against him, and he held me in place, his grip biting into my flesh, his thumb diving deeper into my ass, the filthy feeling only taking my arousal to a higher place.
* * *
The orgasm broke, the pleasure fading, and fuck. Fuck, I loved what he could do to me, the way he could play with my pleasure. He moved behind me, and I felt the bump of his cock against my thighs.
* * *
I needed to be closer, and turned to face him, grabbing his shoulder for support. He pulled my hand from it and wrapped it around his dick. I looked up at him, the spray dancing off his muscles, his eyes darkening when they collided with mine.
* * *
God, the way his cock stuck straight out, the way he hissed out a breath when I wrapped my hand tighter around his shaft. I ran my second hand over his balls, squeezing their heavy weight, and he groaned out my name as if in pain.
* * *
I moved my hand, working it to the head and back down. He stumbled back against the stone of the shower, resting his weight against it and pulled me closer. “Faster,” he mumbled, and his mouth found mine, his head as the hot water hit my back. I felt the stiff flex of him in my hand and worked it furiously between our bodies.
* * *
He was so big. So thick. Such an impressive cock that perfectly matched his large size and ridiculous ego. Maybe that’s where that ego had come from—the confidence that, at any point in time, you had the biggest dick in the room and knew exactly how to use it.
* * *
Or so I assumed. As deftly as he brought me to orgasm with his mouth and fingers, I couldn’t imagine how sex would be.
* * *
“I need to fuck you. God, you have no idea how much I need to fuck you.” He pulled his mouth from mine and whispered against my lips. I kept going, my breath panting with his, my limbs still weak from my orgasm. His cock grew even stiffer, and he pinched his eyes closed, his body tensing, and I knew, in the moment before his cock flexed, it was happening. It was a moment of strength and weakness, all at once. I felt powerful, my hand stroking him through it, my fingers tight around his shaft, eyes dropping to watch the action, the water taking it away as quickly as it appeared.
* * *
His gaze found mine, and he pulled me forward for a kiss that seemed desperate in its connection.
He curled against me in bed, his skin hot, an arm wrapping around my chest. I clutched his forearm, pulling it against my chest and threaded my fingers through his grip. He kissed my back and pulled me even tighter against him.
* * *
“What time do you have to be up?” As I asked the question, I thought of the first night I stayed here and waking up to the bloody sheets.
* * *
“Not until eight.” His voice was heavy, dragging on the edges, and it was the first time I’d ever seen him let down his guard.
* * *
“Don’t leave without waking me up.”
* * *
“I won’t.”
* * *
I wanted to tell him to promise me, but that seemed young and insecure. Instead, I tightened my hold on his arm and felt him clench around me, a blanket of warmth and security.
* * *
Sometimes, I think I’m falling in love with you.
* * *
It was the last thought on my mind before I fell asleep, a line that had me smiling, wrapped in his touch, the rasp of those words still audible in my mind.
THE TRUSTED ONE
* * *
“So, Bell Hartley is there now?” Robert Hawk peered at Claudia with an intensity that had once scared her. Now, it gave her a surreal sense of peace. That shift had come when she realized he would do anything to strengthen those he saw as his. And there were only two people in the world with that ownership. Herself and Gwen.
* * *
Claudia nodded at his question. “Yes, with Dario. Gwen’s alone in the condo.” She looked past him, at the monitors that showed the warehouse, individual squares displaying each woman in their cells. Only a year ago, she’d been one of them. Weak. Insolent. Unappreciative. The rumor mill had called them pets, but they didn’t understand the beauty of what Robert Hawk was doing. It was a psychology project to him. Give women opportunities. Reward those who behave. Punish those
who fail. Measure loyalty.
Even Money Page 18
