He bet a thousand at the start of the next round, before either of them had rolled. Hans made a scoffing noise, but called the bet without hesitation. Malcolm took his time shaking the dice, and threw them hard against the inner wall of the rolling space.
Reaching out with the wind, Malcolm gave each of the dice a small directed push as they came to a stop. He kept it from being anything too egregious, giving himself three fours and a six. Hans frowned at the lucky throw, his own leaving him with only a pair.
“Interesting…” said Hans.
It’s cheating, but come on… Nobody is going to know.
Malcolm did the same thing with his next roll, and then continued with it for the following few rounds. In a span of twenty minutes, he went from having five thousand dollars’ worth of chips to almost thirty thousand. Hans was fuming across the table from him.
“Let’s make it a little more interesting,” said Hans, pushing all his remaining chips in. “This next roll decides the game, John.”
Malcolm nodded slowly, keeping his expression cool.
“Sure,” he said. He pushed all his chips in, not even bothering to look at what the other man had after his first roll.
“You are so confident,” said Hans. “You must know the odds of you winning this round. You have nothing.”
“Nothing but luck,” said Malcolm.
And the power to manipulate the dice.
He rerolled all five of his dice, giving himself a straight. Hans had two pairs, and made a noise a little like the sound of a dying car engine. He sank to his knees across from the table, Olga dropping down to comfort him.
Hans cleared his throat and finally stood up. His face was red, and he took a deep breath to steady himself before speaking.
“That… was not technically my money that I just lost,” he said. “It belonged to… my business. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. You mentioned asking my wife some questions before?”
Olga flashed a flirtatious smile at Malcolm from across the table.
“I think we can definitely work something out,” said Malcolm.
CHAPTER 15
Malcolm left the table with Hans and Olga, following them back into the hotel and then up to their room. Hans whispered with his wife for most of the way, and stopped in front of the door to his room, letting her go inside ahead of him and Malcolm.
“Two hours,” said Hans. “All that I ask is that you be safe and careful. She is not on the pill.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up.
“I, uh, meant what I said before,” he said. “I just want to ask her some questions.”
“Sure, whatever,” said Hans. “Well, it’s been a while for the two of us, so I’m sure she’d be more than willing to answer your ‘questions’, John.”
He walked off down the hallway without looking back. Malcolm knocked on the doorframe and then stepped into the couple’s room, closing the door behind him.
“Hey, Olga?” called Malcolm. He didn’t see her in the bedroom. “Where’d you disappear to?”
The bathroom door opened, and Olga walked. She’d taken her hair out of the braid, but Malcolm almost didn’t notice. All of his attention was on her body, and on the fact that she’d changed into lingerie.
Olga’s big breasts were held only by a sheer, white lingerie bra, her pink nipples showing through the thin fabric. The panties were part of a matching set, and she also wore fishnet stockings, held up by a white lace garter belt.
Malcolm’s jaw dropped open. She smiled confidently as she walked up to him, letting her hips sway from side to side with each step.
“My husband is so careless with his wild betting,” said Olga. “I guess I’ll have to be the one to clean up his mess, yes?”
She stepped in close to Malcolm, letting her hand run over his crotch. He already had an erection, and his heart skipped a beat as she began massaging it through his pants.
“I… just needed some information,” he said, feeling stupid.
“Some information?” Olga smiled wickedly. “Perhaps you’d like to know… what my mouth feels like, on various parts of your body?”
“Actually… I, uh… need to know…” Malcolm was finding it suddenly very hard to focus.
Olga spun around, pushing her big, soft butt against his hardness. She took his hands and slid them over her stomach, up to her breasts. They felt incredible against Malcolm’s palms. He tried to keep his head clear. It was impossible.
“These feel better than boring, plastic chips,” whispered Olga. “Don’t they?”
She wiggled her butt against Malcolm’s erection, slowly bending forward to lean against the bed. She looked over her shoulder at him expectantly.
“You wouldn’t leave a woman waiting, would you?” she asked. “Or do you not know how to play this game as well as the ones in the casino?”
Malcolm had his pants off in record time. He nearly tackled Olga onto the bed, his horniness suddenly overwhelming any sense of logic or reason left in him. He lifted her butt up, finding that she was already wet, and slid into her, taking her from behind.
Olga let out a high-pitched squeal as he began to thrust. There was something aggressive and animalistic about the encounter. She was another man’s wife, but for the moment, she was his, to use and play with as he wanted.
This is stupid… but if feels really good.
He ripped Olga’s bra slightly in his haste to get it off her. She didn’t seem to mind. Malcolm groped at her naked breasts as he pumped his shaft into her. Olga put her hands over his, as though trying to lock him into place.
Her butt, though not overly large, felt amazing as padding against his crotch. Malcolm pushed her down against the bed, each of his forward movements sliding them a little further until the only thing between her head and the wall was a single pillow.
“Mr. Adams!” cried Olga. “Oh… is this how you… treat a married woman?”
Malcolm responded by giving her butt a soft slap, which elicited a squeal of delight. Olga shifted, rolling to face him. Malcolm kissed her, sliding back into place and taking her in the missionary position.
He didn’t last long. Olga was a stunning specimen of a woman, and Malcolm was a young, hot blooded male. He kissed her breasts, slamming into her with all the strength his muscles could muster, and found his release… without pulling out.
Whoops…
Malcolm felt pleasure wash over him, followed by a wave of regret. He was an idiot, and had done something to serve no purpose other than those of his hormones. He scowled and reached for his boxers.
“Sorry,” he said. “This is… just a big misunderstanding. I really came up here to ask you questions about the magician. Honestly!”
He pulled his boxers on and turned around to face Olga. She had a small camera in her hand, one of the hidden varieties designed for secret recording.
“Unfortunately,” said Olga. “I have a recording of this misunderstanding. Unless you wish for your newlywed wife to find out about what just happened, you will be paying my husband and I our money back, along with all of yours.”
Malcolm couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He took a few breaths, calming himself down enough to speak as he pulled the rest of his clothing back on.
“Oh no,” he said, mockingly. “Please, don’t tell my wife. Anything but that.”
“We are not bluffing, Mr. Adams,” said Olga.
“Was the thing about you not being on the pill that your husband told me part of it, too?”
Olga smiled and nodded.
“We are not that foolish,” she said.
“Clearly,” said Malcolm. “Well, it’s been fun. I’ll be taking my leave.”
He clipped on his bow tie, donned his fake glasses, and made for the door.
“Hey!” shouted Olga. “We are serious!”
“Of course you are,” said Malcolm. “Tell your husband that I had fun!”
He headed down the hallway and stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for his flo
or. It was in the middle of closing when two beefy men wearing black sunglasses slipped in. They stepped into position on either side of Malcolm, both of them dwarfing him by several inches and at least a hundred pounds.
“Uh…” He scratched his head, unsure of what to say.
“We work for the casino,” said the man to his right. “Mike Redhawk would like to speak with you about your amazing winning streak, Mr. Adams.”
Ah, man. Just when I thought I’d gotten away with it.
The men pressed the button for the basement, and the three of them began descending. Malcolm considered whether he could take both using his wind manipulation. It seemed like a bad idea. Even if he managed to render them unconscious, there would be footage of it from the elevator’s camera, and it would blow his cover.
He played it cool, waiting until the elevator came to a stop. The door opened and the two men pushed him forward by the shoulder. Malcolm scowled at them, but walked out into a hallway, and then into a dimly lit room that smelled slightly of cigarette smoke.
A Native American man with a pony tail and a nice suit sat behind a desk. He gestured for Malcolm to sit, which his two escorts were all too happy to help him do.
“My name is Mike Redhawk,” said the man. “My tribe owns this casino.”
“Under any other circumstances, it would be nice to meet you,” said Malcolm. “John Adams.”
Mike smiled, and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Well, John,” he said. “Do you know what the odds are of some of the winning rolls you had for dice poker?”
“Never tell me the odds,” said Malcolm.
Mike Redhawk tapped his fingers on his desk. There was a computer monitor on his desk, and he took it and swiveled it around.
“The jig is up, you piece of shit,” said Mike. “We know who you are. My computer guy was able to reverse engineer an image of your face with advanced recognition software, rebuilding with a ninety-nine percent probability of what it would look like… without the glasses.”
“You could have just asked me to take them off,” said Malcolm.
“So, Wind Runner,” said Mike. “You think you can come into my casino and use your damn powers to cheat at the games?”
Malcolm shrugged. One of the guards cuffed him across the head. Malcolm reacted without thinking, pushing out with the wind and slamming the man into a wall across the room.
The other guard pulled a gun. Malcolm knocked it out of his hand before he could take aim, leaping out of chair and punching the man hard in the stomach.
“Enough!” shouted Mike. “Don’t antagonize him. Wind Runner, I brought you here to talk. I’m a man who likes to work out his problems with words, rather than violence.
I wonder what that’s like?
“Alright,” said Malcolm. “If you want to talk… How about you tell me about Golden Joab?”
Mike’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Give me your word that you won’t steal any money from the casino by abusing your powers,” said Mike.
Malcolm sighed. He’d had a lot of fun with the dice poker, and had already started working out a strategy for roulette.
“Fine,” said Malcolm. “Now, tell me what I want to know.”
CHAPTER 16
“Golden Joab is eccentric,” said Mike. “But he is still a man.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Malcolm.
Mike shook his head.
“He’s not gifted,” he said. “And he’s definitely not a spryte or demon. I’m assuming that’s why you’re here, Mr. Wind Runner.”
“Can you be certain?” asked Malcolm.
Mike shrugged.
“Not certain,” he said. “But, he’s never done much, outside of his shows, that seems superhuman.”
“What’s the best way of getting a private meeting with him?” asked Malcolm.
“He’ll be at the masquerade ball tomorrow night, and his show is on Saturday,” said Mike. “As far as a private meeting goes, I have no idea. The man is very secretive.”
Malcolm considered the information for a moment, and then nodded.
“Alright,” he said. “That’s helpful.”
One of the guards had recovered and was back on his feet. Mike nodded to him, and the guard led Malcolm out of the room and back down the hallway. The two of them shared one of the most uncomfortable elevator rides ever, and then Malcolm stepped out onto his floor.
“Sorry about the punch to the ribs,” said Malcolm. “Don’t know my own strength sometimes. You know how it is.”
The guard said nothing.
Tapestry was still awake when Malcolm got back to the room. She was wearing a nightgown, and tucked most of the way into bed, reading a novel. She frowned at Malcolm as he came through the door.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“Down to the casino.” Malcolm kicked off his shoes, sighing as he sat own on the bed.
“You smell like perfume,” said Tapestry.
Malcolm turned and looked at her, feeling caught between annoyance and amusement.
“What happened to the whole us not being married thing?” he asked. “You seemed pretty dead set on forcing some space in between us earlier tonight.”
“I’m just pointing it out,” said Tapestry. “It’s a statement of fact. You smell like something, and that something is perfume.”
It’s like I’m getting the nagging part of a marriage without any perks.
“I was just doing my job, Tapestry,” said Malcolm. “And I happen to have some new information on Golden Joab.”
Tapestry set the book aside, her interest piqued.
“Anything we can act on?” she asked.
Malcolm nodded.
“There’s a masquerade ball tomorrow night,” he said. “Joab’s going to be there. We can use it as a chance to get close to him, or at least get a sense of what he’s like as a person.”
“That’s perfect!” she said. “Good work, Wind Runner.”
“Good enough work for me to get a spot in the bed tonight?” asked Malcolm. “I’m not really looking forward to sleeping on the floor.”
Tapestry considered his request for a moment before slowly nodding. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, and it made her look relaxed compared to the pony tail she usually sported for work.
“Cool,” said Malcolm. He started pulling off his suit jacket and dress clothes.
“You’re… undressing?” asked Tapestry.
“I usually sleep in my boxers,” he said. “That’s okay, right?”
She hesitated, her mouth turning down into a small frown.
“I guess,” she said.
Malcolm turned off the room’s overhead lights and joined Tapestry in bed, leaving ample room between them. Tapestry still had on her reading light, but she turned that off, too, and the two settled into bed in a silent, dark room.
A couple of minutes went by. Malcolm found it unusually hard to sleep. He could feel the motion of Tapestry’s breathing through the blanket, and smell the scent of whatever shampoo she’d used earlier in the shower.
Tapestry rolled over, either accidentally or intentionally putting herself into contact with him. Malcolm couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. He stayed where he was for a couple of seconds, and then shifted, putting an arm around her.
He expected Tapestry to stop him, or at least say something, but she didn’t. It felt natural to spoon with her, and shockingly intimate. It felt as though, for once, Tapestry had her guard down, and Malcolm had managed to respond in the correct way.
She’s really soft. And she has a great body. Uh-oh…
It only took another minute for Malcolm to realize the hard predicament he’d put himself into. He considered disengaging from Tapestry and giving himself the space needed to cool down, but it felt too nice cuddling with her to make himself do it. He closed his eyes, and forced himself to sleep.
Malcolm woke at some point during the night to Tapestry nuzzling his neck.
She’d shifted, turning so that she was facing Malcolm directly. He couldn’t tell if she was awake or not, but he could feel her against him, her thin night gown doing practically nothing to disguise the fact that she was naked underneath it.
He was still hard. Tapestry let out a soft sigh and shifted her head against his neck. Malcolm’s lips found hers, and as he kissed her, he felt her respond in kind. Malcolm ran a hand down her back, finding the bottom hem of her nightgown and sliding it up until he could grope her soft, naked butt.
Tapestry sighed again, and her hand went to Malcolm’s face. She let her crotch push forward against his and Malcolm kissed her neck.
“Allen…” she whispered, dreamily. “It’s been… so long.”
Allen… That’s her late husband’s name.
Malcolm stopped himself. He disengaged, though it took all the willpower he had. Knowing that Tapestry was still mostly asleep, thinking he was someone else, made him feel a little dirty.
He rolled over in bed. Tapestry cuddled against his back, and he tried to ignore the sensation of her nipples softly pressing in between his shoulder blades.
He didn’t get much sleep.
CHAPTER 17
A free breakfast was delivered to their room the next morning. Malcolm shared waffles and bacon with Tapestry, not daring to bring up their sleeping arrangement from the night before. Tapestry had found an activity brochure, and was slowly flipping through it.
“Here’s the masquerade ball you mentioned,” she said. “It looks like we need to call ahead to reserve ourselves masks, given that we didn’t bring any. I’ll take care of that.”
Malcolm nodded, his thoughts elsewhere.
“It also says that there’s a mediation retreat happening this afternoon in the Hawktail Spa,” said Tapestry. “Interested?”
Malcolm shrugged.
“Sure,” he said.
“I figured you would have rather stayed at the casino and done some more gambling,” said Tapestry. “Surprising…”
I would if I wasn’t banned…
“Nah, this seems like it could be a good bonding activity for us,” said Malcolm.
Wind Runner: The Complete Collection Page 42
