All In: Betting on a Full House (Gambling With Love)

by Lane Hart

  All In

  Betting on a Full House

  By Lane Hart

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.

  © 2014 Editor's Choice Publishing

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator” at the address below.

  Editor’s Choice Publishing

  P.O. Box 10024

  Greensboro, NC 27404

  Cover by vocaldesign

  https://www.fiverr.com/vocaldesign

  Photo © Can Stock Photo Inc.

  WARNING: THIS BOOK IS INTENDED FOR MATURE AUDIENCES 18+ ONLY AND CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES AND ADULT LANGUAGE!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter One

  Jessica Dodson

  It’d been a long, shitty night. Not only did I have to deal with the usual barrage of creepy perverts and old men looking at me naked while trying to fondle me, it was also my best friend's last night at Infinity’s. I’d seen Lauren's departure coming a mile away, but it still sucked that I wouldn’t have her around to whine, bitch and complain to on the weekends.

  All things considered, I was hoping for a significant improvement to my night in the form of Lauren’s recently discarded, six foot, two-hundred pounds of crazy hot police officer. I wasn’t sure what the girl was thinking, choosing Caleb over Tyler, but I was grateful she’d decided to cut him loose from her threesome.

  And damn if my thighs weren’t already clenching and my panties getting wet just thinking about Officer Tyler Evans. There was also a sting that burned me every time I was with him, which had only been a few rounds the night before last. The thing was, I knew he didn’t give a shit about me. He was just trying to get over the woman he was in love with, who loved another man. To him I was nothing more than a willing and able warm body he could use to get himself off, and get her off his mind for a few minutes. I couldn't compete with the beautiful and sweet woman he’d give anything to have. Even knowing I could never replace her, and I'd only ever be a meaningless hook up to Tyler, I was going through a serious orgasm drought, and he was a smoking hot, panty rainmaker.

  I quickly ran up the stairs to my second story apartment, in a hurry to shower before my booty call. I love Jonathan to death, but I said a prayer that my kid brother was spending his Saturday night at a friend’s house. I didn't want to worry about him hearing any sounds coming from my room. Tyler knew all the right buttons to push with his tongue, fingers and cock to make me more vocal than I'd ever been during sex…not that I'd had a lot of experience.

  My grand total of two previous intercourse lovers would both come after touching my breasts, leaving me high and as dry as the desert. Which was why I was so eager to have another night with Tyler, a man who I could probably get off on just seeing naked. He turned me on more than any other man ever had before. I made a mental note to buy Jonathan some of those big new headphones that were all the rage with teenagers.

  I unlocked the front door and eased into the apartment, passing quietly by Jon’s room. I let out the breath I’d been holding when I saw his door was open and his bed was empty. Grabbing my phone while I started the shower, I sent him a quick text message to make sure he was okay and in for the night.

  By the time I'd scalded my skin to wash the club’s filmy layer of germs off, Jonathan had replied that he was at Nathan’s playing video games, and he was crashing there tonight. The red glow on the clock said it was two-forty five, so since I had a few minutes to spare I logged into Jon’s iCloud account to "Find his iPhone." Sure enough, he was at the corner of Market Street and Guilford College, at Nathan’s.

  He knew I randomly checked up on him like a good older sister, and he didn’t mind. I was lucky he was such a great fifteen-year-old. He never got into trouble at school, made straight A’s, didn’t drink or use drugs (I know because I randomly test him), and he doesn't run around town raising hell on weekends. I figured his good behavior was due to the fact that he was grateful to me for getting him out of the intolerable environment that had been our parents' house. A house where our mom was bat shit crazy eight out of seven days a week, and our dad liked to drink and regularly use his fist on us like we were his very own personal punching bags. His beatings were just the tip of the fucked-up iceberg.

  When I was seventeen, and in my senior year of high school, I took the money I’d been saving for a year as a part-time waitress and moved the two of us out. I had no idea how expensive living on your own was, not even stopping to think about the fact that there would be a heck of a lot more than just rent to pay. But once Jonathan and I tasted freedom from hell, it was too good to even consider giving up. I was determined to do whatever I had to in order to keep my baby brother from experiencing the degrading things my father had done to me. He had just turned eleven, the same age I'd been when my father's fists became the least of my concerns.

  My determination to make it on own my own is what led me to start working at a strip club three years ago in order to make ends meet. The first few weeks I'd done anything and everything in the back rooms of the shady club to pay the bills. But not anymore. Now I worked as a regular at a nicer, classier establishment, making more than enough to support the two of us, and even put some money away into savings every week. And the best part was I only worked on weekends. With that schedule I was home with Jon during the week to make sure he had dinner and company.

  The knock on the front door pulled me out of my stroll down memory lane. My stomach fluttered and my heart raced as I walked through the living room. Looking out the peephole to make sure it was in fact Tyler, I took a minute to appreciate how damn fine he was. His short blonde hair was messy and glistening like he’d just showered, and jean companies would pay him good money to plaster him on their billboards across the country for women to drool over.

  I knew that underneath the clothes smooth, golden muscles bulged and filled out every single delicious inch of him. His blue, XL t-shirt was just barely able to contain his ripped torso. I finally unlocked the door and pulled it open for him.

  “Goddamn, woman,” Tyler exclaimed, glancing quickly behind him on the front stoop before his warm, navy blue eyes came back around to drift up and
down my naked body. He swallowed hard and then licked his luscious bottom lip.

  “I just got out of the shower,” I told him, omitting that it had been a long fifteen minutes ago. “Are you going to come in or just stand there staring all night?”

  “Oh, I’m definitely going to be coming in,” he said, flashing me a cocky smile. He thought he was being cute with his play on words.

  I rolled my eyes in feigned annoyance to try and prevent him from seeing how hot and nervous he made me.

  “Where’s the slutty nurse outfit?” he asked, his eyes twinkling in the outdoor lights while he continued to stand on the welcome mat.

  “In the laundry, after you soiled it the other night.”

  He smiled a slow, wicked sexy grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that right? Damn, I was so drunk, the whole night is one big blur after we left the strip club.”

  My stomach gave a heave at his words. Shit, why did it bother me so much that he didn’t remember our amazing, sweaty night of fucking? The five best mind-blowing orgasms of my life. The only man-made orgasms of my life. My thigh muscles were still freaking sore two days later. But to someone as gorgeous as him, it was probably just one of many naked nights rolling around his bed. I knew I was just a nice little distraction, and nothing more, but that I was so damn unmemorable felt like a punch to the stomach. I didn’t even see him drink that much.

  “So Lauren put an end to your threesome?” I asked. I knew it was a low blow, but I was feeling defensive. I almost wished I could take the words back when he cringed and looked away.

  “Yeah, she did. So you don’t have to ask for her permission to fuck me anymore,” he said, that cocky ego of his instantly deflating. His expression suddenly flickered to anger as he looked at me a moment before he asked, "Did Caleb ask you to try and fuck me?"

  "What? Did Caleb … are you serious?" I was baffled by his question, and his pissy tone.

  "I thought he'd set me up to cheat on Lauren."

  "Oh my God. No, and I can't believe you think I'd agree to do that to you."

  My girl Lauren had been dating, and in love, with both Tyler and his longtime best friend and roommate Caleb. The three had all lived together, and had even been getting their freak on all together for a while. The men had been in a competition of sorts for several weeks trying to win Lauren over. That deal came to a halt this morning when Lauren finally chose Caleb, after he told her he was tired of sharing and gave her an ultimatum. Caleb knew Lauren wanted him and had grown tired of her avoiding commitment by screwing Tyler just because she was scared of getting hurt. That meant Tyler had been cast away from their ménage, lost his girl and best friend, and was looking for a new place to live.

  When Tyler continued to stand on the welcome mat looking like a sad puppy dog I let go of my anger at his ridiculous accusation. He was trying to blame Caleb for me and him ending up together the other night while he was still technically dating Lauren. But Tyler and I had made our own decisions, and now he'd have to put on his big boy panties and deal with the consequences.

  “Why'd you come over Tyler? It’s obvious you’re all messed up over everything,” I asked crossing my arms over my bare chest.

  He ran a hand down his face before he lifted sad eyes to mine again. “I thought we were just ... screwing around, and I need … I just want …”

  “To fuck me to give yourself a temporary distraction from her?” I asked.

  He nodded and looked so pitiful. Such a big, tough, sexy man, hurting with a broken heart. That was it, I caved.

  I reached and grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and pulled him over the threshold, then shut and locked the door. My hands grasped the back of his neck to pull his mouth down to mine, and I kissed him with a steady determination. I would by God give him the distraction he wanted, and hopefully get the orgasms I needed. I’d erase Lauren from his mind if only for a few minutes, hopefully several times over tonight.

  Tyler’s talented tongue was eagerly searching in my mouth while his big, strong hands dug into my ass, lifting me up and pressing my lower body against his hips. I felt his bulge growing behind his zipper, causing need and heat to spread through my body.

  “Bed?” he asked deep and breathlessly.

  I nodded and he took us down the hall, stopping at Jonathan’s room. He pulled his mouth from mine to flip on the light and looked around the messy room with movie posters on the wall, and even a few that portrayed big breasted women.

  “Wrong room. Keep going,” I told him.

  “Damn, you mean you aren’t into double D women?” he asked.

  “Nope, sorry. This is my brother’s room.”

  “You have a brother that lives with you?” he asked, killing the mood by playing twenty questions.

  “Yes. Jonathan. He’s fifteen, and he’s staying with a friend tonight,” I told him, trying to predict the oncoming questions.

  “You’re raising him? What happened to your parents?” he asked, officially extinguishing my arousal with the mention of my folks.

  I slid down from his muscular arms, still facing him in the hallway, but having to look way up to see his face, since I was more than a foot shorter.

  “What’s with all the questions? You’re just screwing around with me so you don't have to play the “get to know me” game to get into my panties. I'm standing here naked.”

  He took a deep breath and a step back away from me. “Sorry. You’re right.”

  Despite what I’d said, I did like that he wanted to know more about me. I just wasn't ready to share the hellish details with him or anyone else.

  “You know what? I’m tired from walking around in five inch heels, flashing my tits and ass all night, and if we don’t stop talking and get down to it soon, I’m going to pass out.”

  “Maybe I should just go,” he said, sliding his hands casually into his jean pockets.

  “Maybe so, because honestly I’m not really in the mood anymore,” I told him, crossing my arms over my bare chest in indignation, trying not to let him see my disappointment. I wanted him, and liked being wrapped up in his strong arms. He had a way of making me feel … safe, even if he didn't care about me. It was probably just because he was a police officer.

  “Huh,” he replied with a grin. “I bet I could get you back into the mood.” And then he was on his knees, kneeling before me and parting my thighs with his tongue.

  “Oh, God,” I cried out, bracing my hands on his wide shoulders to hold myself up. It was the first time a man's mouth had ever been on the most intimate part of my body. "Fucking incredible" was a sorry ass description, but the only one that came to mind.

  Since my thighs were too close together to give him full access, he alternated between lingering open mouth and tongue thrusting kisses along the front of my slit. His strong hands quickly remedied that problem by grabbing and parting my thighs, throwing one leg over his shoulder. When his tongue delved into my wide open flesh, my hips developed a mind of their own. They rocked toward him, seeking the desperate release that only his mouth could give me.

  "Oh! Yes! Don’t stop!” I yelled as the pressure built. Each stroke of his tongue was bringing me a new kind of pleasure that my body had never experienced before, and wanted more than anything in the world.

  Tyler did the exact opposite of what I begged, pulling this mouth away, and making me moan and grab a handful of his hair to redirect him.

  “Still not in the mood?” he asked, looking up at me all sexy and smug, but I was too far gone to care.

  “Please. I’m so close.” I wasn't too proud to beg him.

  When his mouth covered my clit again I erupted, and only Tyler’s hands kept me from falling as the most amazing pleasure of my life rolled through my body.

  It felt like the world actually tilted before I finally came floating back down from the mother of all orgasms, just in time to feel Tyler enter me from behind. He'd managed to flip me onto my stomach, pressing my face against the carpet. With my ass up in t
he air, he gripped my hips and shoved into me over and over again. I heard his own moans and curses, but then I was lost in another wave of ecstasy. Afterwards, his heavy body collapsed on top of mine, pressing me into the unforgiving, carpeted floor. He was heavy on my back, but I was too damn sated to mind.

  A few minutes later the cool air on my back made me shiver when Tyler's body raised off of me. It sounded like he went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, but my eyes refused to open to find out for sure. His arms were suddenly around me, picking me up and carrying me against his hard chest. And umm, he smelled so good, like the warm, sweet summer.

  When I felt the softness of my sheets I knew we’d finally made it to my bed. My relaxed state was suddenly shaken with worry, wondering if Tyler would leave now that he’d gotten what he came for.

  “Mind if I stay?” he asked. When I couldn’t make my eyes open or my mouth immediately respond he added, “I don’t want to have to go back to that house tonight and listen to them fuck.”

  Of course he didn’t really want to stay with me, he just wanted to be at home with Lauren and Caleb less than he wanted to be here. As depressing as that was, I’d take what I could get. Besides, he'd just rocked my world. Twice.

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks,” he said, then he put an arm around my waist and pressed his body against mine, naked except for boxers. It felt really freaking good too, even knowing I wasn’t the one he wanted to be sleeping with.

  Chapter Two

  Tyler Evans

  I woke up and looked around the unfamiliar room, then back down at the girl I was spooning against. Jess was still in the same spot on her bed as I'd put her last night. She must have been exhausted, or at least thoroughly fucked.

  Her bedroom wasn't what I had expected at all, now that I could see it in daylight. It was tidy and smelled like her, oranges and fresh, clean laundry. There was only a few decorations, just a couple of pictures on the walls. There were no photos of people, only butterflies, which, now that I looked closer, looked similar to her tan satin comforter that had small brown and blue butterflies spaced across it. It was all very … feminine and soft, unlike the bold, sassy, sexy woman she portrayed at the strip club.