by Keira Beck
Gamble
Nightforce Security Series - Book 2
Keira Beck
Contents
Gamble
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Want a superfun, exclusive story?
Also by Keira Beck
Gamble
Sometimes the stakes are too high to gamble. Sometimes they’re too high not to.
Noah Crawford is a consummate bachelor — until a one-night stand piques his interest in something more. The only problem is, she wouldn’t give him her name, and he has no way to find her.
A week later, resigned to forgetting her, he accompanies his friends to a casino. But Noah isn’t in the mood for frivolity and sets off on his own. No one is more surprised than he is when he bumps into his mystery woman.
When armed thieves break into the casino and take everyone in the poker room hostage, Noah discovers that not everyone is here to play cards. He is separated from his friends, and the room has been cut off from security. Help isn’t coming. It’s up to him to keep everyone safe while he tries to thwart the gunmen.
But one of the thieves might have an ace up his sleeve, and gambling with him could cost Noah everything.
Chapter One
Noah downed another shot of tequila then took aim. He squinted at his target, aimed again. He wasn’t sure how many drinks that had been, but they were starting to kick his ass.
“Come on, dickhead. You going to shoot or what?”
He closed his eyes and flicked his wrist. The dart went flying. Noah turned for another shot before he heard the thwump of the projectile embedding in the board.
“You’re one lucky son of a bitch, you know that, Crawford?”
Noah grinned, drained his glass and looked over at Mac. “Three for three. Double or nothing?”
“Shit. I’ll go broke buying you shots. Or you’ll need to get your stomach pumped. Let’s join the boys.” Mac headed toward a group of guys at a table in the corner.
Before following, Noah snuck a glance at the target. Dead fucking center. Just like the other two.
He expected nothing less, even buzzed.
With half a grin on his lips and an extra swagger to his step, he made his way across the room. A motley crew had assembled at One Ugly Mug that night. His boss, Danny Caruso, owner of Nightforce Security. Danny’s friends, Navy SEAL Callum “Mac” MacNeil and ex-SEAL Ethan Morrison. Noah was hazy on the details of how they had met, but he knew some heavy shit had gone down and it bonded the guys. Mac coming into town made it a special night. Even Cap had come out from behind the bar to share in the storytelling.
“How much did he take you for?” Ethan asked.
“I think he cheats,” Mac said.
Noah walked up behind him. “Sore loser.”
“Told you not to bet him.” Danny gave him a high-five.
Noah turned a chair around, straddled it, and rested his elbows on the back. Good thing Mac quit when he did, because he was feeling comfortably numb. Half-listening to the ribbing Mac was enduring, he looked around the bar, recognizing some of the regulars. There were some strangers, too. And that new group of poseurs who had started hanging around. One of them, the skinniest of the lot with greasy blond hair, got up and headed to the jukebox.
“Oh, hell no.” Noah pushed off his seat and raced the guy. If he didn’t beat him, they’d be listening to Guns N’ Roses all damn night. No fucking thank you.
He bumped into a chair and bashed into the table beside theirs, balance hampered by the tequila and his haste. It didn’t help that one hand was in his pocket, fishing for change. But he got there a step before the Axl Rose wannabe and grinned.
The guy bristled, but after giving Noah a once over, he backed off and slunk back to his friends.
Skinny little shit.
Noah stuck his quarter in the machine, but the words all smeared into black squiggles. He was just going to have to pick a few songs at random and hope GNR wasn’t one of them.
“Don’t know what you’re in the mood for?”
The words were sultry, sexy… nothing he expected to hear from any of the ugly mugs there that night. He turned around to find that the woman matched the voice. Long dark hair, glistening with rain. Thick lashes framing the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Full, oh-so-kissable lips drawn up in a smile. Curves in all the right places, made all the more noticeable because her white blouse was soaked.
He damn near salivated at the sight of her.
“No. I definitely know what I’m in the mood for.”
Her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t look away. Instead, her smile grew, then she pressed two blurry buttons on the machine. Strains from a guitar cut through the din of the bar, then Seger’s resonant, rugged voice launched into “Night Moves.”
“Hope you like Bob Seger. He’s one of my favorites.”
As it happened, he did. But for her, he’d listen to Bob Saget. “Care to dance?”
She looked around the room. “There’s no dance floor.”
“We don’t need a lot of room. I plan on holding you real close.” He held out his hand.
She chewed her lip and tilted her head like she was considering the offer. Then she shrugged and put her hand in his. “What the hell. It’s a great song.”
Noah placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled her tight. Perfect fit.
“I know there’s not much empty floor, but it’s pretty cramped back in this corner. Shouldn’t we drift away from the jukebox so other people can make their way back here?”
“Do you like Guns N’ Roses?”
She wrinkled her nose.
“Then, no. Trust me.”
Her eyebrows scrunched, but she didn’t question him.
He swayed with her, their bodies pressed together. His shirt grew wet from her rain-soaked blouse, and he had an overwhelming desire to strip them both. “What’s your name?”
She shook her head. “No names.”
“No?”
“No. I’ve had the worst day. I was late for work, I lost out on a promotion I thought I had in the bag to an asshole who’s related to someone with more clout than me. I missed lunch listening to a friend complain about a problem that wasn’t. My car broke down on the way home, and Uber can’t get someone here for at least half an hour. I got caught in a torrential downpour in the hundred feet between my car and this bar. I’m hungry, I’m drenched, and I’m miserable. I can only assume anyone I meet now will in some way result in more bad luck. So, no names. Let’s just have this dance and whatever else before my ride gets here, and tomorrow, this will all be a crappy memory.”
“Wow. You had me at ‘whatever else’ and lost me at putting it all behind you. So, I’m just a way to pass the time?”
“I’m sorry.” She toyed with his hair and rested her cheek on his chest. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…”
“You had a monumentally bad day.”
“Right.”
“Who’s to say it won’t get better?”
“Tomorrow is another day, right?”
He chuckled. “Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant.”
She leaned back and met his gaze.
“I meant, who’s to say I can’t make it better?”
“What, end on a high note?”
Noah had a particular type of climax in mind. “Something like that.”
<
br /> Seger got to the refrain, and she pressed closer to him. “How drunk are you?”
“What?” He looked down at her, studied her slightly out-of-focus face.
“Look, I never do this kind of thing. And I mean never. But, like I said, it’s been a shitty day, and I just want to do something for me without worrying about what’s expected or proper or what other people want. As long as you’re not so drunk that you don’t know what you’re doing…”
He’d never been that fucking drunk.
She raised her eyebrows and tipped her head toward the door to the back room. “Interested?”
Was the Pope Catholic? He frowned. Thinking about religion at a time like this was probably a bad idea.
“Sorry. I don’t want to take advantage of you. We can always just dance until my ride comes.”
Noah shook his head and smiled at her. “Or you can cancel the Uber. I’ll make sure you get home.”
“You’re in no condition to drive. And I’m not giving you my address.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got about twenty minutes to kill. If you want to improve my day, here’s your chance.”
“Twenty minutes isn’t nearly enough.”
She shrugged. Her cheeks pinked. “It’s all I’ve got.”
“I’ll take it.” For starters, anyway. He let go of her waist and pulled her toward the storeroom. Cap would chew him out later, but sometimes it was better to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. In this case? Totally worth the future hassle.
“Are we allowed back here?” she asked.
Noah closed the door behind them. There was no lock, but he doubted they’d be interrupted. Even if anyone did come in, they weren’t likely to see anything—the room was dimly lit by the streetlight shining through the single frosted window, and there were plenty of cases and kegs to hide behind. “I prefer to think of it as we were never told not to come back here.”
She chewed her lip and peeked over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. The receiving door in the back is locked, and we’re against this one. No one will come in.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“What the hell.” She pulled on his collar, tugging her to him. Then she threaded her hand through his hair and lifted her head.
A wordless invitation, and he’d never had a better one. Noah bent and claimed her mouth. She was wet and hot and so damn ready for him. He pushed her against the door, and his tongue tangled with hers as they fumbled with each other’s clothes.
Her skin was cold where the wet material had clung to her, and as he ran his hands over her body, it heated under his touch. There might have been steam wafting off of her, she was so fucking hot.
Noah thought he’d gotten a satisfying eye-full when her soaked shirt was plastered against her—sheer, see-through. But with the blouse unbuttoned, the view was damn near flawless. Her lace-covered breasts fit perfectly in his hands, and when she moaned at his touch, he pulled the cups down, freeing her for his fingers… his mouth…
He picked her up, pinned her against the door. Then he trailed kisses across her collarbone and down her chest until his lips closed over her nipple.
She gasped and pulled his head tighter to her. One of her legs snaked around him, and she grinded against him. “More.” Her voice was a throaty whisper, the words growled between panting breaths. “Need you.”
And he thought the earlier invitation was good.
He unfastened her pants as she put her feet down, then she wiggled out of them, letting them fall at her feet. The black panties were a sexy, startling contrast to the white bra, and his fingers paused when he got a look at her.
“Hurry.” Her husky demand was impossible to ignore.
Noah yanked a foil packet from his wallet while she unbuttoned his fly and tugged his jeans to his hips. She paused for a moment when he sprung free, then a huge smile split her face. He donned the condom while she stripped off her underwear, then she wound her limbs around him again.
The room was hot, and the aroma of stale beer mingled with the fresh scent of her perfume. Noah’s head swum a little from the tequila, a lot from the blood rushing away from his brain. He was steeped in her, drunk on her, and nowhere near done.
“Now.” Her plea, one small word, fired him up.
He lifted her, leaned into her. She clutched his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. Then he took her, holding her against the storeroom door, the muffled sounds of GNR’s “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” drifting through the walls and setting their pace.
She was tight, hot, and so fucking responsive. Her moans drowned out Axl Rose’s whiny voice, spurring him on. He took her higher, and higher still, until she orgasmed, bucking against him and pulling him over the edge with her.
While they came down, he held her, pinned against the door, their bodies still joined. After her breathing slowed, she pushed him back and put her feet on the floor. Then, without a word, she stepped into her pants.
Noah took off the condom and started to adjust his clothes, none of which had actually come off.
She pocketed her panties, finished buttoning her blouse, and glanced around the room, avoiding his gaze.
“Hey.” He tried to turn her head toward him with a gentle finger under her chin. She pulled away, but not before he caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
A strangled whimper escaped her, then she darted around him and dashed out the back door.
“Fuck.” Noah’s gaze followed her. He grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins from a stack on the shelf, wrapped the condom in it, and stuffed the wad in his pocket. As he chased after her, he buttoned his jeans and his shirt.
But by the time he got to the alley, she was gone.
Chapter Two
On Monday, Noah waved at Cap when he walked in the front door.
The surly bartender scowled at him and dried a freshly-washed glass.
“Fuck. How long do you think he’s going to be pissed at me?”
Danny snorted. “You had a one-night stand in his storeroom. Expect him to thank you for that?”
“It’s not like we were in the guy’s bed.” They wove through the tables and crowds on their way toward the bar.
“Stop talking. I’ve been trying to get the images out of my head. I don’t need new ones.”
“What images? You didn’t see anything.”
He clapped Noah on the shoulder. “I didn’t need to witness it to know what went on. You weren’t anywhere near the kegs or pretzels, were you?”
“Come on, Danny.”
“No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
He sighed and raised two fingers between patrons sitting at the bar. “Couple of beers, Cap.”
The bartender washed another glass and ignored him.
Noah looked at Danny and raised his eyebrows.
“Hey, Cap,” Danny said. “How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain. Mostly.” He shot Noah a dirty look.
He had the good sense to look away. The sheepish expression he pulled wasn’t an act.
“Can I get two beers, please?’ Danny asked.
“Comin’ right up.”
“Go sit down, Crawford. I’ll bring them over.”
Noah headed for their usual table. Cap had been kind enough to reserve it for them. Well, for Danny. The guy certainly wasn’t doing him any favors at the moment.
Danny brought the glasses over and dropped into a chair. “Got a text from Mac. He and Ethan are a few minutes out.”
“We should just wait outside.”
“Not happening. It’s thirty fucking degrees out there. I thought we were done with the temperature swings. Seventy degrees two days ago, freezing today. I’m fucking tired of winter.”
Noah shrugged and nursed his beer.
“I hate March Madness. It’s too damn long. It’s April, for fuck’s sake.” Danny looked across the bar. “Look at this crowd. I bet we don’t know ten
people in here.”
“Aren’t you in a great mood?”
“I don’t like crowds.”
“I know. It sucks having all these people in our hangout. But it’s good for Cap’s business. Maybe the extra money’ll put him in a better mood.”
“You know how he is about crowds. If anything, this’ll have the opposite effect.”
“Then why’d he open today?”
“For the money.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “I just said that.”
Danny shrugged.
“Where the hell are they? I just want to get out of here.”
Danny’s phone dinged and he looked at the screen. “Perfect timing. They’re outside. Let’s go.”
They both waved to Cap on the way out. He nodded a goodbye, but Noah was pretty sure it was only directed at his boss.
Outside, they clambered into a Lincoln Navigator. Bob Seger’s “Still the Same” was blaring from the speakers.
Fuck. At least it wasn’t “Night Moves.” Still, the singer’s signature voice brought memories of the other night rushing back. Not like Cap or Danny would let him forget, anyway. He tried to ignore the music. “Hey, guys.”
“E, get a new ride?” Danny asked.
“Nah. This is Mac’s rental.”
“I paid for it. Might as well use it.”
“Should have rented a limo for the night,” Noah said. “I plan on getting hammered. The casino won’t deny me service.”
“Cap still not talking to you, huh?” Ethan asked.
“No.”
“Should’ve had more respect for his bar.”
“Thanks, Dad.” He reached to the front seat and slugged Ethan in the shoulder.
“You guys better be right about the casino not being crowded tonight,” Mac said. “I took a week off to hang with you morons.”
