Player: Stone Cold MC

by Carmen Faye

  I kept my eyes trained on his. They’d become an electric blue, and when he looked at me, it felt like he physically touched me.

  I was the one who inched my face closer to his. Not all the way so that I was the one making the first move, but enough to let him know what I wanted. He took the hint. I didn’t have to ask twice. He closed the small distance between us, pressing his lips against mine.

  He tasted of beer, and I could smell the cologne he wore on his skin. Day old cologne, something he’d put on that morning.

  He put his hands on my cheeks, cupping my face, and pushed his tongue into my mouth. I let him.

  His tongue chased around mine for a short while, and then he closed the gap between our bodies, completely pressing up against me with the length of his body so that there was no space between us. His body was hard and muscled under all those clothes. I wasn’t sure if it was because of all his moving around, or if he trained when he wasn’t with me, but his body felt good against mine.

  As if he knew what I was thinking, his hand moved from my cheek to the small of my back, and he pulled me even tighter against him. I sighed into his mouth. He ran his other hand into my hair and held a handful loosely against my scalp, not hurting me at all.

  We’d been kissing for a while when he pulled me onto the couch, him underneath so that I lay mostly on top of him, able to call the shots. If I wanted to stop, I could get off him, and it wouldn’t be awkward at all. I didn’t want to stop though. I wanted to keep going. My body was suddenly on fire, heat pooling between my legs, and I wanted more of him against me, with no clothes as a barrier between us.

  He pushed his hand under my shirt and his skin was on mine on my back. His hands were large and warm, and the skin was rough as if he did physical labor. He stroked his hand up and down, his other hand on my hip. I moved against him in the same rhythm as he was stroking me, slowly grinding against him, giving him a part of my body already.

  I could feel him in his pants. He was hard and ready for me, pressing against my lower stomach and pubic bone. I ground against him, feeling his lust build up at the same time mine did.

  I was the one who broke the kiss and got off him. His eyes followed me. I took his hand and pulled on it so that he would get up. I didn’t say anything; it felt like words were going to ruin it. I just tugged him with me, and he followed me. I led him to the bedroom and let go of his hand to close the curtains in front of the window. He stood in the middle of my bedroom, but instead of looking around he was watching me. His eyes followed me—like a predator tracking its prey.

  He came to me by the window when I turned. He kissed me again, and his hands slipped under my tank top. His hand slid up to my breasts, and he cupped his hands over the bra I was still wearing despite the fact that I wore I pajamas. His mouth was still on mine and I arched my body, pushing my breasts into his hands. His skin was searing hot even though the bra material.

  I returned the favor, pushing my hands underneath his shirt, too. I felt his muscles, the ridges where the one stopped and the next started, and it rippled under my hands when he moved. Under all that leather, he was hot as hell. He’d just been hiding it.

  He pulled my shirt over my head. I lifted my arms to make it easier and stood in my bra in front of him. He looked at me, as if he hadn’t seen a woman before, and his pupils dilated even more until the ice blue of his eyes was just a thin rim around the black pupil.

  I retrieved my hands from his shirt and undid my own bra, letting it fall to the floor. My body was in good shape. My nipples tightened in the cold air of the room. Rip pulled his shirt off, and it joined my tank on the floor. One for one.

  He stepped closer to me and his skin on mine was hot.

  I reached for his belt and unbuckled it, working his jeans down his legs. I left the boxers for now. He was rock hard, straining against the fabric, reaching out for me even before we’d gotten around to the real business.

  Rip guided me backward until the back of my legs hit the mattress. Then he let me lay down, and he crawled over me. He took one breast in his hand, and lowered his face to the other, taking my nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it slowly and sensually, and I moaned, tipping my head back. The heat between my legs turned into an urge, and I was wet for him, ready for him to take me.

  He didn’t do it yet though. I slid his hand over my stomach and down to my pants, and he pushed them underneath the elastic. He ended up right where I wanted him, pushing his fingers into my slit. When he flicked a finger over my clit, I shuddered and gasped.

  He groaned when he pushed his fingers into me.

  “God, you’re wet,” he said against my breast. I answered with another moan.

  He pushed his fingers into me a couple of times more, and then it was as if he’d had enough of this fooling around. He pulled his own boxers off, and he sprung free, bobbing. He was thick, thicker than I expected, and the tip was glistening with anticipation. I reached down and palmed his thick flesh, moving my hand up and down, feeling him.

  He pulled my pants down, and I lifted my ankles so he could pull them off. Then I spread my legs, letting him position himself between them. He braced himself with his hands on either side of my face and pushed his tip against my entrance.

  I gasped. A shudder travelled through my body.

  Rip inched into me, bit by bit, letting my body yield and adjust to him. He was big, but his urgency had dwindled down to a calm patience, as if he wanted to do it right.

  He pushed in a little, then slipped out again, but not far enough to leave my body. Then he inched in deeper, and slipped out again, repeating the process until my body was open and he filled me up, pushing in all the way to the hilt. I gasped from the feel of him inside of me, the size, the pressure.

  It was delicious.

  Rip started moving. In and out. The friction was erotic, making me moan. My body responded to his, throwing off more heat and producing more lubrication until he slid in and out of me with ease.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing our bodies closer together. He lay on me with half his weight and upped his pace, pushing into me and pulling out again with more force. My body went numb, the sensation pulling me in. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of him.

  He went faster still, and my breathing matched his pounding because he was lying on my chest, forcing the air in and out at the same pace his hips were bucking against me. I moaned. He grunted in my ear, and his breathing was as fast as mine, his voice hoarse, the rasping sound of his pleasure turning me on even more.

  The orgasm started building. It started as a hot wave that bloomed from my core and started filling me, like cup of warm water that was heading towards overflowing. My body jerked under his more and more often, expecting the pending orgasm.

  When it hit me it shattered through me so hard that I cried out. My body curled around Rip’s, legs closing around his hips and nails digging into his shoulders. He moved slower while I orgasmed, riding it out with me. When it finally drained out of my body again, I untangled myself from Rip. He smiled down at me when I opened my eyes.

  He kissed me, and I let him taste me and swirl his tongue around my mouth.

  When he broke the kiss, his face was riddled with concentration. He started moving inside of me again, faster and faster. I cried out, feeling him even more now that I was sensitive and so much tighter.

  He pumped in and out of me, instinct kicking in and taking over.

  I knew he was close when his strokes shortened and his speed became mechanical. A moment later he groaned, his body jerked on top of mine, and I felt him spasm inside of me, ejaculating inside of me. He filled me up even more than he already was.

  The orgasm seemed to last a while, and then it subsided. He calmed down on top of me, breathing hard in my ear, and then he became limp.

  He slipped out of me and then rolled to the side.

  “Oh, my God,” Rip said.

  And yes, the sex had been amazing. Turned out he wasn�
�t just a good cards partner; he was also really good in bed. This just couldn’t go any further between us.

  I turned to him. We didn’t spoon or cuddle like couples did because we weren’t a couple.

  “Tomorrow,” I said.

  “We’ll nail ‘em.”

  I nodded. We would. And I was happy that we ended the night on a small note of business. That was how it ought to be between us.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lady Luck wasn’t on the strip where I’d spotted the other casinos when I’d first come to Cali. It was in a quiet part of town, a place I’d initially pinned as residential. Now that it was nighttime and the younger crowd had crawled out of their holes, I noticed that there were more businesses that catered to the nightlife in this area.

  Alex and I walked to Lady Luck. We were dressed to the nines. She wore a red dress with a low neckline, and it pressed up her breasts and made them look fantastic. The dress was form-fitting, showing off her ass as well. Red was obviously her signature color, and she’d really chosen well.

  She’d done her hair up in a loose kind of bun with strands that escaped and framed her face. Simple silver jewelry with it made her look elegant, not neglected. I loved having her on my arm, and seeing the men who looked our way.

  She wasn’t mine, but she was with me, and that was more than enough.

  She’d managed to unearth a suit for me from a box in her attic. I couldn’t quite figure out whom it had belonged to in her life, but it was awesome. The weave must have had satin in it because it shimmered in the light, and paired with one of my own gray collar shirts it looked like a million bucks. I didn’t wear a tie. Instead, I left the collar open.

  I felt like a king walking into Lady Luck with Alex by my side.

  The casino was as brilliant as Harlan Gold but in a different way. Everything was decorated in cream and brown, as if people came here to be sophisticated rather to lose their minds. The same kind of laughter, chatter, and clinking of glasses hung in the air though, and the familiar ring of slots laced it all with the fact that this was still a gambling joint.

  I was nervous. I reached up to my collar, wanting to tug on a tie I wasn’t wearing. I didn’t need anyone unsavory to recognize me now, and Alex had a name around town, too. If anyone recognized her, or me, or the both of us together, we were going to be in trouble.

  Alex’s hand was wrapped around my arm, and she squeezed. It was the only sign that she was nervous. She had a perfect smile plastered onto her face with the white teeth and a nude lipstick. Her eyes slid over the room, taking everything in.

  I had a look, too, but I doubted I looked as nonchalant as she did.

  “Stop fiddling,” she said close to my ear. “You look like you have something to hide.”

  My poker face was obviously not as solid as hers, and considering that I was the one who was going to play poker here tonight, that was reason for concern.

  “You’re going to be fine,” she said again in a low voice, as if she’d been reading my mind.

  “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone here that knows us,” I said. I hadn’t seen any familiar faces, but what was more, no one had seemed to notice us and do a double take.

  This was good news. I breathed out and Alex relaxed her grip on my sleeve.

  “We’re heading in there,” Alex said, nodding to the private section. She’d been here before once or twice. I glanced past the bouncers and saw men in tuxes sitting around a table, smoking cigars and drinking drinks that looked more expensive than they tasted good.

  I was glad Alex had made me dress up. In my leather jacket, I wouldn’t have fit in.

  We went to the bar and ordered drinks. I ordered a whiskey on ice. Alex ordered something tall and pink that I didn’t catch the name of. I had a lot of money in my wallet that I’d taken from my duffel bag, and I was going to swap most for chips before I entered the private section.

  The whiskey wasn’t exactly my thing, but it seemed like the right thing to do and I knew that it was a very good brand. Lady Luck didn’t look like the kind of place that would rip a man off with cheap alcohol under poured.

  After getting my hands on my chips, we headed toward the private section. The bouncer stepped in front of us.

  “I have been personally invited to play by Mr. Tucci,” I said.

  The bouncer nodded and looked Alex up and down. Something protective made me want to tell him right where he could go with his lustful stare, but the guy was almost three times my size so I kept my mouth shut.

  “She can’t go in with you,” she bouncer said. When I looked at Alex, she seemed taken aback by this new arrangement.

  “Is the private section off-limits for dates?” I asked, careful not to call her my partner and get us in trouble.

  The bouncer shook his head.

  “Usually, no, but tonight is gentleman’s only. Mr. Tucci’s request.”

  There was nothing I could do about that, and Alex knew it, too. She kissed me on the cheek, pressing her body up against mine so that the bouncer cleared adjusted his pants. She was acting for the sake of the crowd, I knew, but holy shit having her sidle up to me like that was hot as hell.

  “I’ll see you later, honey,” she said in a sultry voice. “I’ll find something to entertain myself while you’re in there. Good luck.”

  I kissed her hand, keeping eye contact as I did. Her smile was syrupy, but her eyes were sharp and full of warning. Don’t fuck up.

  I let her go and she shimmied into the crowd, hips swaying, ass wiggling. I whistled long and low.

  “Are you read to go in?” the bouncer asked. I nodded, clutching onto my almost-empty glass of whiskey now that I didn’t have Alex by my side.

  “Ready,” I said, even though I really wasn’t.

  The table was a rectangle with the dealer in the middle on the one side. The table had its classic felt top and there were small drink holders all around it so that we didn’t leave watermarks.

  I placed my drink in the cup holder, sat down, and a waiter came to me right away.

  “Can I fill that up for you, sir?” he asked.

  I nodded. I liked being called sir. “Three fingers,” I said, and the boy walked away with one hand behind his back and my drink in the other.

  The men started coming in one by one. They all wore expensive looking suits, from cashmere to satin to something I didn’t recognize, and they looked comfortable in it, like this was their usual attire. I rolled my shoulders and watched them, adopting their laid-back attitudes, looking like I came from money, too.

  The chips on the table sure suggested I was worth this game.

  An older man came to sit opposite me. A grey mustache crawled along his top lip, and when he smiled, it was a little off-balance, as if a part of his face didn’t work right. Still, those watery eyes were sharp as nails, and I doubted anything would get by him.

  There was a man wearing a cowboy hat and a leopard print suit that must have cost a fortune and looked like shit, and a tall young man that looked too young for the drink he was holding in his hand. Daddy’s money, I was guessing, looking at the suit that was expensive but slightly too big.

  There were no women, as promised. And I was starting to get really nervous. Alex was somewhere out there, not here to reassure me, and I had only learned how to play this game properly this week. She should have been the one doing this. She would have been cool and confident about it, and taken all their money.

  I had been a fool thinking that she was the one beneath me. She was the kingpin, and I should have given all of this to her to take care of.

  That and my balls of a silver platter. What was I thinking? I was a man, for God’s sake, and I had played this game of give and take for years. I knew what I was doing. I gave myself one hell of a pep talk while the last couple of men came in and took their seats.

  My drink had reappeared next to me at some point, and I took it out of the holder, sipping it. The whiskey got better the more I drank it. Maybe I wou
ld order it again some time.

  Finally, the game was called to order and we were off.

  I was dealt a seven and a three. Bad hand, as far as I knew, but Alex had told me that it didn’t matter what the odds were, it mattered what the others had. She didn’t just count cards, she read people, and she was damn good at it, too. And she kept track of when those guys folded when each card was put out so that she knew what the odds were of the others’ hands.

  I couldn’t do that as well as she could.

  She also had a gut feel that bordered on psychic. I’d seen it this week when we’d played each other. She won every time, playing as if she knew my cards every time, even when I was the one dealing them in.