Gambling with Gabriella (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing For Love Book 2)

by Tara Crescent

  “Another five minutes and we’ll get going,” the young dealer tells us. He doesn’t look a day over eighteen, but his gaze is alert. “Bulldog’s just waiting for a few more people.”

  “Do you normally wait for the tables to fill?” I ask him, shamelessly pumping for information. Hey, any bit of information might be useful in finding Carter’s nephew. “That’s different from the places I usually play in.”

  “Not always,” he confides, then shrugs. “Still, when the boss says to wait, I wait.”

  Five minutes later, Ed Wagner walks in.

  I’ve seen his photo; I know what he looks like. He’s got blond hair and hazel eyes, and a thin face. But photos are never a substitute for seeing someone in person. Up close, Ed looks tired.

  He’s also older than I expected. Looking at him under the unforgiving fluorescent lighting, I’m guessing he’s in his forties. Carter’s in his early thirties and his sister Chloe was a twin, which makes her at least a decade younger than Ed. Ten years isn’t a huge age gap, all things considered, but it’s notable. Maybe this is why Carter’s so angry with Ed. Maybe he thinks Ed led his sister astray.

  This situation is filled with unknowns. For Ed to resort to snatching his child away from Carter, there has to have been so much history and bad blood between the two men. Should I even be involved in this mess? I don’t know.

  I remind myself to keep an open mind. As worried as Carter is, Ed is still Noah’s father. As I think of my close relationship with my parents, what I’m doing prickles at my conscience. I’m interfering without knowing all the facts.

  Then again, Sammy’s goons know how to wield their iron pipes, and I’m extremely fond of my knees.

  The dealer at the table raises his hand in greeting to Ed as he walks up to our table and takes a seat. “Ed, long time no see, man.”

  Ed shakes the dealer’s hand. “I’ve been away,” he says dryly. “You’ve heard?”

  “Yeah. That was a bum rap, dude.”

  Ed’s hazel eyes glitter with anger. “My brother-in-law set me up,” he says. “But I’m going to hit him where it hurts.”

  What the heck? He went to prison because Carter set him up? Neither Dominic nor Carter have mentioned this. I sip at the can of Coke that I got from the vending machine in the corner, thoughts bouncing off the corners of my brain.

  Is everything on the up and up? Carter and Dominic haven’t gone to the police, though that would be the first thing I would do if my child went missing. They’ve acted like they don’t know where Bulldog holds his games, but Atlantic City isn’t a large town. Are they being straightforward with me, or am I being duped by them?

  If the situation isn’t exactly as described, I don’t want to be the person that comes between a father and his son. Ed is Noah’s father. Sure, I need the money to pay off Sammy. But at the end of the day, I’m not going to aid and abet in the kidnapping of a child for it. Though I really hate the idea of disappointing them, I can call my parents to help me with my poker debt, and I can ask my friends.

  Don’t trust Carter and Dominic quite so readily, Gabby, I caution myself. Not before you fully understand what's happening here.

  * * *

  We play a few hands before we stop for a cigarette break. As luck would have it, I’m doing really well, and Ed Wagner is doing really badly. He’s nervous and distracted. He keeps checking his watch. When the dealer calls a fifteen minute break, he retrieves his cell phone from Bulldog’s closet and goes outside.

  I follow, bumming a cigarette off Wall Street guy, who is also losing heavily. It’s been so many years since I last smoked. When I was sixteen, a rebellious teenager in London, my mother had caught me with a pack in my jacket. Shit had hit the fan, bigtime. My mom yelled and my father looked bemused, until he realized he needed to yell at me as well.

  Normally, that kind of parental disapproval would have just made me dig in my heels, but then my mother wisely made me smoke the entire pack at once. I felt so gross by the time I was done that I’ve never smoked again. Until now. “Do you have a light?” I ask Ed, once he hangs up.

  He nods curtly and hands me the lighter. Okay then. Chivalry is evidently dead. “Thanks.” I hand it back once I light up, and I try not to retch. “Rough night?”

  He nods again, then decides it’s okay to speak a sentence or two. “I’m having shitty luck,” he says, puffing away at his own cigarette. “You’re doing well. I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”

  I’m supposed to seduce the guy, not have a conversation with him. Those were Carter and Dominic’s instructions. I ignore them and trust my own instincts. Ed’s skittish. If a woman makes a pass on him out of the blue, he’s going to bolt, not take advantage. “I play in New York,” I tell him. I’ve decided to be as honest as I can. “But I need money in a hurry.”

  “Don’t we all?” he replies, and it’s the kind of question that doesn’t need answering.

  We smoke in silence for a few minutes. At least, he smokes, and I’m trying to take as few puffs as possible. My mouth feels dry, itchy and gross. I stand there searching my mind for something else to say to Ed, but I’m coming up blank. Dominic and Carter found you sexy, I tell myself, in an effort to bolster my confidence enough to make a move on this obviously disinterested guy.

  “I’m Gabriella,” I say finally, giving him a weak wave. “Hi.”

  “Ed,” he offers, before he takes his final puff and throws the butt to the ground, grinding it under his heel. “I think break time’s up. See you upstairs?”

  “Sure thing.”

  What a fantastic seduction job, Gabby.

  Lady Luck is still beaming at me when we resume playing, and Ed’s run of crappy cards doesn’t come to an end. He’s playing rashly now, his betting erratic, his decision making weak. Finally, after one big loss, he gets up and knocks his chair over. “I’m fucking tired of this,” he yells. “I never have good luck at your tables, Bulldog. Why’s that, do you think?”

  Conversation in the room dies down instantly. The room becomes so quiet that if a pin dropped in that moment, you’d hear it. Heads swivel to watch the confrontation, and more than one person looks openly nervous. Everyone’s wondering the same thing - has Ed Wagner lost his mind? In the shadowy underground, one thinks very carefully before throwing around accusations of cheating. For the first time, I’m really glad Bulldog made everyone check in their bags. I’m not sure if anyone here is packing, but when tempers flare, the last thing one needs to toss into the mix is a loaded gun.

  What happens next sets my spidey senses tingling. Goons do not materialize to toss Ed Wagner out of the room, and Bulldog doesn’t go ape-shit. He just walks up to Ed and talks to him soothingly. There’s a lot of arm-waving from Ed, a lot of ‘calm down’ gestures from Bulldog. I can’t tear my eyes away from the spectacle, and I’m not the only one. This is weird.

  “What the hell?” Wall Street asks our dealer.

  “Ed has more money than sense.” The dealer shakes his head. “He shows up here, loses a lot, makes a scene, then comes back the next day. That’s his pattern. You know what they say. A fool and his money…”

  My brow furrows. Carter and Dominic told me Ed’s a grinder, and I believe them. They’ve also led me to believe that Ed doesn’t have a lot of money. What the dealer’s saying doesn’t quite add up.

  Then I look again at the guy from Wall Street, whose eyes gleam with greed and I realize what’s going on.

  I smother a grin. I don’t have to worry about my failed seduction attempt tonight. Ed’s definitely going to be back tomorrow.

  * * *

  “You don't know where he lives? Damn it, Gabby, what if Wagner doesn’t show tomorrow? What if he doesn't go back to play again at Bulldog's?”

  I’m back at Carter’s office in the Grand River, slumped on the couch, utterly exhausted. “Will you calm down?” I snap at him, my own voice rising. “I was winning and he left in the middle of a hand. It would have looked crazy suspicious if I’
d followed him. But he'll be back.”

  “How can you be sure, Gabby?” Dominic sounds calmer than Carter, and he's prepared to listen. He hands me a glass of red wine, and I accept it gratefully, taking a sip. It’s been a long day. Right now, I just want to sleep.

  That’s a lie. It’s two in the morning and I should rest, but I can’t stop thinking about my threesome with Dominic and Carter. I can’t stop wondering what would have happened at the restaurant if Bulldog’s text hadn’t interrupted us.

  “Because he's working for Bulldog.” I describe the Wall Street guy. “That scene with Ed yelling was absolutely staged for the Wall Street guy’s benefit. Bulldog wanted that guy to come back and lose big the next day, so he made Ed seem unstable. The dealer on our table was in on it too.” I give them an earnest look. “I’m absolutely sure. I was there. Trust me.”

  “That is Bulldog's modus operandi.” Dominic’s voice is thoughtful. He sits next to me on the couch and pulls me towards him. His hands clasp my neck and his fingers massage the knots of stress out. I whimper slightly in pleasure. This feels amazing.

  Carter drops to the couch on the other side of me. He burrows his head in his hands. For a few moments, he doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. “It’s going to be fine, Carter,” I say softly, resting my hand on his thigh. “Bulldog told me there’s another game tomorrow. I’ll get to Ed then.”

  He sighs finally. “Yeah,” he says. His hand covers mine, enveloping me with warmth. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  “That’s okay,” I soothe him. “You are under a lot of pressure.”

  He gives me a small smile.

  “Where are you sleeping tonight?” Dominic’s voice is a low, seductive murmur in my ear. “Will you stay here?”

  “Here?”

  Carter looks up, and his look of tension has receded, replaced by an expression that sends the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “As you pointed out to me just a minute ago, Ed’ll be back tomorrow to play at Bulldog’s. We have people looking for him right now. There’s absolutely nothing I can do.” His lips twitch. “That’s not strictly true. There’s one thing I can do.”

  “We can do,” Dominic corrects with a lazy smile. I feel my tiredness evaporate looking at that smile. “If you are interested, Gabby?”

  I have a rule, one instituted after Vinny, the boyfriend that cheated on me. If I must sleep with someone, it can only be one night. Anything more and my heart’s on the line. Anything more and I will get hurt.

  “What do you think, little spitfire?” Carter runs a large, callused hand up my bare ankle, and each nerve ending in my body sparks to life. “Stay with us tonight?” His lips twitch. “The whole night.”

  My rule has been set in place to protect my heart and mind, but I’ve always been reckless. I’m a gambler, after all.

  “Yes.”

  7

  Gabriella:

  Oh god oh god oh god oh god.

  Dominic tangles my fingers in his, and sucks my forefinger into his mouth, his eyes shimmering with the same lust that’s rampaging through my body like a herd of wild elephants in the Serengeti. Carter, on the other side of the couch, covers my left hand in his own, much larger hands, and leans in to kiss my neck.

  Shivers wrack my body at that kiss, at the raspy whisper of his stubble against my tender skin. Dominic groans at my reaction. “I’d forgotten how responsive you are,” he says, his voice hoarse.

  Carter grins. “I hadn’t,” he says smugly. He presses another kiss on my neck, right at that spot that seems to be a hot button to my pussy, and I squirm on the couch, restless and wanting more.

  I’d forgotten how long they’d teased me before they let me come.

  Dominic wraps his hand around my neck and turns me towards him, his mouth kissing a pathway towards my lips. Carter’s hand closes on my breast through my clothes, and again, I wriggle and whimper and throw my head back on the couch. I’m rewarded by a squeeze of my breasts, and a trail of kisses on my neck.

  My own hands are pressed helplessly at my sides, but now I bring them up and pull Dominic and Carter closer. “Please,” I beg. “Don’t make me wait.”

  “Where’s the fun in being in a hurry?” Dominic raises an eyebrow at me. I can’t decide if I want to throw a shoe at him, or if I want to smother him in kisses. Yeah, lust has scrambled my brains.

  They both run their hands all over my body. They rest teasingly on my knees, before inching upwards over bare thighs. My legs fall helplessly open for them, an invitation that they somehow manage to resist. They cup my breasts, kneading and squeezing and bending their heads down to suck on my nipples through my dress and my bra, the sensations muted by the clothing, but still sending shudders of pleasure through me.

  “You can take off the dress,” I breathe. Please take off the dress.

  “Can I?” Carter mocks. “Good to know, Gabby.”

  I’ve already flipped him off once, I remind myself. Before I have to convince myself not to do it again, Dominic works on getting my dress undone. His fingers tug at the zipper in the back, and I shrug the fabric off my shoulders. The dress falls to my waist.

  My bra is removed with practiced ease. Too practiced? Doubts swirl in my mind again about the foolishness of revoking the Vinny rule. Then Dominic’s mouth finds a nipple and he bites down, and all I can do is bury my fingers in his hair and pray that I don’t end up regretting this moment.

  “Stop thinking,” Carter instructs. “Just feel.”

  “Quit giving me instructions,” I say crossly. Or at least, I try to be cross, till Dominic nips my tender skin again. Then my voice trails off into a whimper and a plea…

  Carter tips my chin towards him. “You didn’t complain about my orders that night,” he whispers, his voice a delicious mixture of sin and promised pleasure. “You liked it, if I remember correctly.”

  He does remember correctly. I’m not exactly the shy, retiring sort, but they had been so dominant that night and each time I’d obeyed, they’d brought me to an orgasm. That’s the kind of Pavlovian conditioning I approve of.

  “I’ll obey if you let me come,” I bargain.

  Dominic laughs. “It doesn’t work that way, Gabriella.” Still, his hand snakes down to my bare thigh, then it glides upward. “Your skin feels like warm velvet,” he groans. “Touch her, Carter. See how soft she is.”

  Hands grip my knees open. I feel their touch inch its way up towards my pussy, like lost ships seeking a lighthouse. A wet, dripping lighthouse.

  Then one hand strokes me through my panties in an achingly slow touch and all thoughts, silly or otherwise, about stranded ships and sea wrecks, flee my brain.

  “She likes that.” Carter doesn’t sound smug this time. Just satisfied.

  “Yes she does,” Dominic agrees. “Her entire body shivered.”

  “Will you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” I demand. I’m about to shatter from the waves of lust that are pounding through my body, and the two of them are picking apart each reaction.

  Okay. Time to start getting even.

  I close my fingers over their erections. My left hand strokes Dominic’s impressive bulge, my right hand rubs Carter’s rock hard cock over his trousers. Two sets of deep groans reward my move. “Gabby,” Dominic grates into my neck, then his fingers graze my panties again.

  My hips rise to meet his hand, and my grip on their cocks tighten. They react in unison. “Fuck,” Dominic groans. “You are going to be the death of me, princess.” He pushes the panties to one side, then his fingers are on my bare skin, on the soft folds of my pussy, and I am lost.

  “Please Dominic,” I beg, as he explores my slit, teasing me, but refusing to touch my clitoris. “Please.”

  Carter exhales loudly as a twitch of Dominic’s finger has me tightening my grip over his cock. He moves my hand aside for a few seconds, and before I can begin to protest, he’s unzipped his fly and pulled that lovely, hard dick out. “Touch
me,” he orders again, and this command I’m happy to obey. His skin is soft steel, and I ache to take him into my mouth, to lick each and every inch of him, to feel his tremors of need as he responds to my touch…

  Then Dominic finds my clitoris and once again, my thoughts dissolve into nothing. The only thing left are my senses. I can feel the heat of their bodies pressing into me. The cool air conditioning causes my nipples to harden into bullets, and each time they roll an erect nub between their fingers, a sharp spike of pleasure-pain roils through me.

  I run my hand up and down Carter’s cock, and I yearn to do the same to Dominic. I reach for his zipper. “Get this off,” I tell him. “I want you.”

  He smirks at me and complies. His cock jumps out, hard, ready and eager, and I stifle a moan. I’d forgotten how big they both were. They’d filled me so completely that night, taken me so thoroughly that my pussy and ass had been sore for days after.

  Oh god, I want that again. I have to feel their bare skin against mine. I have to feel them slide into my waiting, eager body. I need Dominic and Carter.

  The sounds of heavy breathing fill the air, interspersed with moans and whimpers. The guys have their heads thrown back on the couch, and their faces are clenched with need as I focus on their cocks. “So good,” Carter grits out, leaning forward to kiss me on my bare shoulder, a touch that sends shivers through me. “So very good.”

  He keeps kissing me. His tongue laves my earlobe, and I arch into him as sensation floods my body. “Carter,” I whimper helplessly. Dominic, not to be outdone, finds my clitoris again and his finger rubs at that bundle of nerves. “Fuck…”

  Hands everywhere. Exploring my pussy, cupping my breasts, stroking me till I stretch and purr like a kitten. Mouths kissing my lips, my shoulders, my neck. Stubble rasping at skin, sending need prickling through me, a restless need that coils tighter and tighter as Dominic teases my sex. Though I love this extended, slow seduction, I whimper my protest. I need to feel them in me.