Player: Stone Cold MC (9 page)

I’d found a blackjack table I was interested in. I stood with the crowd of onlookers and watched the current game. I counted as I went along, making sure that I was on top of my game. I was able to tell what was coming, and when the guy that sat in front of me lost all his money, I was the one who slid into the empty seat.

I’d finished my drink a while ago, and now I wished I’d ordered another one before sitting down. I wasn’t usually this edgy when I played—I knew what I was doing—but I’ve never had a partner who was playing a high-stakes poker game in the private section on the other side of the casino.

One that had only learned recently how to play properly. One who made more debt than cash by the looks of things.

I took a deep breath, feeling my constricting dress as I did, and made sure that I kept my eye on the dealer’s cards. I bet my money and waited for the cards to fall. I feigned surprise when I won the first hand. The lady next to me leaned toward me.

“We’re always so much better at entertaining the boys, aren’t we?” she said and then shimmied her shoulders as if she meant her body was what they were looking at. Her dress was a little too tight, her body a little too curvy, and the color didn’t work for her. But I smiled and pretended like that was what it was about.

“What do you say we do another round?” she asked, as if we were best friends already.

“Sure,” I said. “I’m feeling lucky. I smiled at the men who stood in view, and they grinned back at me. I knew that they were watching me, not her. But that meant they weren’t watching the cards and the fact that I was counting. That was why I dressed the way I did when I went to casinos. I had breasts. I used them. It was all about misdirection.

I’d been playing for about half an hour when I put my hand to my head.

“I think I need to get out of here, get myself another drink,” I said to whomever would listen. I got up, taking my chips with me, and walked away from the table. I didn’t like staying in one place too long. I didn’t like raising suspicion. My money was accumulating, and I didn’t want the dealer to inform the authorities that I was making more than the average player.

At the bar, I ordered a tall glass of water with ice and lemon in it. I glanced toward the private section. I couldn’t see Rip—a.k.a Ben Reeker—through the door, but he hadn’t showed his face yet, which had to mean he was doing okay enough to still be in there.

I didn’t recognize the two faces I could see through the door. An old man and a cowboy who looked like he belonged in Texas instead of here. But I’d noticed that Lady Luck attracted a stranger crowd than Harlan Gold where I spent more of my time.

I took my water with me and decided to play roulette. It was the ultimate game of luck, and it was fitting here at this casino. I bet some money on four black and waited. When that little ball spun around and around above the blocks my stomach clenched in a fist and a thrill shuddered through my body. I loved this. I loved the risk and not knowing. It was almost as great as the risk of counting and being caught. Almost, but just not. If Cass was here and she could see me now… maybe she wouldn’t think that this way of life was bad for me.

Some addictions were bad. When you lost control, they could consume you, and I understood that. But some of them were fine, and the gambling and its risks weren’t dragging me under. In fact, I had a really good life because of it. I owned a house and car. I made my own hours. I always walked away with money in pocket.

All was as it should have been.

A loud voice behind me drew my attention, and I collected my chips. I’d wanted to move on anyway, and the distraction had snapped me out of my daze. I looked over my shoulder. A man in a grey suit and black-rimmed glasses was being dragged by the collar toward the door. The security didn’t do anything. They just watched, made sure that no one got in the way of the drama, and stayed out of it.

There was only one person I knew who had someone do that for him.

I looked around but saw no one I knew. I moved through the crowds, looking for that face, but I couldn’t see him anyway. Maybe I was wrong. It was highly possible that there were more assholes around town.

I sat down at a poker table. I was going to play the same game Rip was busy with if he was still in. It made me feel good. He’d taught me some tricks like sleight of hand and pickpocketing, but I couldn’t find anywhere to use them yet, and I didn’t want to force it and rouse suspicion.

I won the first hand, folded two, and then won three in a row. Two of the players folded, one swearing under his breath. Eventually, I had a handful of chips to add to my stack and I felt good about it.

When I got up, I heard a familiar voice. It was out of place here at Lady Luck. I usually heard it at Harlan Gold, but I would know that Mexican accent and that irritating voice anywhere. I turned around and Antonio Jerrill stood behind me. He had his back to me so he didn’t see me. I collected my chips and got up, making sure to slip between a couple of people before I stopped to look.

“Get me a drink while you’re at it,” I heard him shout after his bodyguard who was already on his way to the bar. “I’ll meet you in the private section. Bring him there.”

I didn’t know who ‘he’ was. No doubt Jerrill had found someone he needed to scare. The only thing I knew was that Rip was still in the private section, and Jerrill knew who he was.

He’d gotten thrown out by him. This was bad. This was very bad. If Jerrill saw Rip, he was going to make a scene, and the last thing we needed now was attention, and someone looking into Rip’s business. The only way to keep an alias was to keep a low profile, and Jerrill would blow that right out of the water.

I slipped my phone out of my pocket and dialed Rip’s number. We’d agreed on that. If we ran into trouble, we would call first and hang up before the other answered, just to draw attention. Then, when the phone was out, we could message and be sure it was read.

I walked toward the private section with the phone against my ear. The bouncer watched me with hawk eyes, and I smiled at him. What did he think I was going to do?

I listened for Rip’s phone and didn’t hear it ringing. He must have put it on vibrate. I hoped he would feel it in his pocket.

I rang three times and then texted him a code red. I didn’t say anything in the message, the name of the color. Red. It was quick and easy, and the message was sent and delivered before I could breathe again.

He was supposed to reply that he’d read it. He didn’t.

I paced around, making my way through the crowds in a wide arc around Jerrill, staying hidden but still keeping an eye on him. He looked irritated, talking on the phone, and then he snapped his phone shut.

I glanced at my phone. Still no reply.

Jerrill started walking toward the private section. The bouncer was nodding at him. Apparently, he was well known here. I should have guessed a man like Jerrill would be popular in all the casinos.

I rang Rip’s phone again, hoping he would feel it. I kept going until it rolled over to voicemail, and then did it again, hoping if I nagged at him, he would realize what was going on.

The third time he killed the call, and I knew he’d finally gotten the phone out. Two seconds later a message came through with a color. White.

He wasn’t in trouble yet.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was still too close. He still had to get out of there. I held my breath and paced some more, keeping an eye on Jerrill. His phone rang again, and he stopped just short of the bouncer, shouting into the phone. Thank God.

Rip appeared at the doors. He looked at me, and I nodded toward Jerrill. He spotted the man straight away and knew what the danger was. God, I loved the fact that he could, at least, think quick on his feet. He started walking toward me, keeping Jerrill in his periphery. The man was busy, but if he turned around at any point he was sure to see him.

Luckily he didn’t. Rip walked toward me, cool and calm, and by the tick in his jaw I could see that Rip was hiding his nerves. I had to remember to commend him on his poker face.

He took my hand, made a show of kissing it in front of the bouncer, and I laughed, turning with him just as Jerrill finished his call. Our backs were to him, and he walked past us without seeing our faces.

“How was your game, honey?” I asked.

“It went alright,” he said. Judging by the look on his face, he was telling the truth, too.

We walked together to the exit. We had to get out of this place and fast. I didn’t want to be under the same roof Jerrill was, especially because he knew my face—even if he didn’t know me personally—and he disliked Rip.

When we were outside the bodyguard was there with a guy who looked like he was going to throw up, he was that scared. The bodyguard hauled him toward the door, swearing under his breath every time the guy wanted to bolt.

“Don’t make it harder than it needs to be,” he said. He glanced at us, and his face froze for a second.

“Do something,” Rip hissed, and I knew I had to make a plan to get our faces out of his view without it looked suspicious. So I did the first thing I could think of. I slapped Rip across the face so that his head snapped to the side, away from the bodyguard who belonged to Jerrill.

“Asshole,” I said in a voice that sounded like I was going to cry, and I spun around and hugged myself, back to the bodyguard. He snorted and shouted something at the guy he was manhandling through the door, and a moment later he’d disappeared.

“Coast clear?” I asked. Rip was the first person to look.

“Clear,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

I didn’t take his arm again; it wasn’t necessary. We walked together to the road and Rip flagged a taxi.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he said, touching his cheek gingerly.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” I said. “Rather that than blowing this whole cover.”

He nodded and let me get into the taxi first, sliding in after me. In the interior light, I saw the red mark where my fingers had connected with his skin.

“Sorry,” I said. I didn’t feel bad, really. I’d saved the day. But he looked like I’d wounded his pride. “How much did we make?”

“Before or after Tucci?” he asked.

“After. I don’t even want to know before, it will just make me depressed.”

He nodded as if he knew I was dead serious.

“Thirty-five.”

Well, it wasn’t a bad start. It wasn’t nearly enough because we still had to split it among ourselves, but it wasn’t bad.

“Good man,” I said.

“Thank you,” he answered, and he sounded proud of himself.

“That was too damn close,” I said when we got back to Alex’s place.

“Close isn’t caught. Besides, that was a good start, wasn’t it? I thought we did well.”

She stood on her porch, illuminated by the outside light, and she looked like a vision. Maybe it was the alcohol interfering. A job. I had to remember that Alex was a job. Mostly.

I nodded and smiled. We did do well. Well, she did well. I did okay. I’d panicked a bit during the game and felt like I was unsure in the beginning there, but it had gotten better. And even though I’d had to leave early, I’d already won a substantial amount of money. We did do well. Alex walked into the house first and flicked on lights as she went, finally doubling back and sitting down on the couch. Perched on the edge with that red dress on and that satisfied smile, she looked like a goddess. God, she was hot.

I took the money out of the black bag the casino had given it to me in and stacked it on the coffee table in neat little stacks. Eighty-seven thousand five hundred dollars in crisp bills, bound with cheap elastic bands.

“Oh my god,” Alex breathed. I sat down next to her, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. “I wish we didn’t have to give so much of it away.”

I nodded. It was a damn shame. The piles of money were a sight for sore eyes. It always made me feel warm.

“We get to keep thirty-five.”

“Seventeen and a half each. Less than half of what you owe me.” She looked at me, but her face wasn’t serious. A smile curled around the corners of her mouth, and her eyes were laughing at me. Cheeky. I liked it.

I shrugged and turned my eyes back to the money.

“We need to celebrate,” Alex said. “Not only is this whole thing working, but we made money!”

“You sound like you doubted me.”

She shrugged. “Let’s face it, you’re not the kind of person I was going to take seriously on this. You just seemed like this plan was made on the fly.”

I was a little offended. This wasn’t my first rodeo—I’d hustled before. Even if I
had
made the plan on the fly. Although I had to give it to her that this was definitely the first time I’d played the way I had, and that was thanks to her. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that she hadn’t had faith in me. She’d taught me more than she would have if she’d believed I could do this. And it had saved me.

“So, what are we going to do to celebrate?” she asked.

My mind was a blank. To be honest, I really couldn’t think of anything. Alcohol buzzed in my veins, and I was on a high from the win. No one walked away from a casino with that much money in their pockets and didn’t feel like they were going to spontaneously combust. I was master of my own universe right then. Screw the Stone Cold Club and the Crucifix Six with all their demands on my money. I was invincible. 

I grabbed her and kissed her, hands on her cheeks. She made a small sound at the back of her throat. She looked surprised for a moment, her body rigid and her eyes wide. But then she relaxed and closed her eyes, melting into my hands, and I closed my eyes, too, and gave over to the sensation that flooded through me when her lips touched mine.

I kissed her long and deep. Sensual. I traced her lips with my tongue, licked a trail along her bottom lip until she opened her mouth for me. I pushed my tongue into her, a part of me penetrating her. I wanted to be inside of her. This was a good start.

She swirled her tongue around mine. Her hands were on my wrists, but not in a way that suggested I remove them. In a way that suggested I keep them there.

She tasted like alcohol and excitement. I could taste her eagerness, and it was sexy as hell. Alcohol and the thrill of the night mingled to make a deadly combination, and I was free falling.

I felt my body respond to her, my cock stiffen in my pants until it was straining against my pants in an uncomfortable way.

She let go of my wrists and ran her hands up my arms. When she reached my shoulders, she curled her fingers. I let go of her, broke the kiss, and shrugged out of my blazer. I adjusted my pants, rearranging myself.

“Better,” I said. She just smiled.

I kissed her again. This time I put my arms around her body and pulled her as close to me as I could while seated on the couch. She slipped her arms around my neck. Her breasts pushed up against my chest, her back arched under my fingertips.

Her scent was in my nose; the apple scent of her shampoo and her perfume reminded me of sex and stars. Her body felt amazing under my hands. The dress hugged her so tightly I was almost on her body, but that wasn’t enough. The material between us irritated me, a barrier.

I wanted to be on her body completely, without any restriction. I wanted all of her.

My cock throbbed in my pants, begging, pleading. I guided Alex down until she lay on her back on the couch. Her knees were bent with her feet still on the floor, but I could cover more of her body now, touch it with the length of mine.

I lay against her. Her breasts pushed against my chest. Her hips were against mine, my thick hard-on against her lower stomach.

She must have felt it, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead she tipped her hips so that she brought us even closer together, pressing against my throbbing manhood with her hips, making the sensation that much more urgent.

I slid my hand down from her neck, over the open neckline where my skin was still on hers, and then onto the material of the dress that covered most of her breasts. I massaged her, feeling her through the dress. She moaned in my mouth. I tugged at the neckline, but the material didn’t give way; the dress was made to stay on unless she took it off. It was one of those expensive, well-made ones.

I hated those that didn’t just rip off when I wanted the woman.

Alex broke the kiss and smiled. Then she squirmed until I lifted and let her get out from underneath me. She stood in front of me, reached behind her back and slowly unzipped the dress. She moved her body provocatively, giving me my own little strip show. It loosened around her waist and her breasts, held in place only by her hands.

Her eyes were mischievous, big and dark and shimmering.

She let the dress slowly slide down, and it clung to her legs as it inched to the floor. She wasn’t wearing a bra, the dress being supportive enough by itself, and when the dress was in a crumpled mess around her feet, she stood in front of me wearing only lace panties.

Her breasts were magnificent. Perfect milky swells with dark pink nipples that were already tight and erect. Her body was perfect, dipping in at the waist before coming out to her curvy hips, her legs coming together in a “V” where all her secrets lay.

She stepped out of the dress and came to me, still wearing her heels. They clacked on the parquet floor, and she moved her hips from side to side. Mesmerizing. Hypnotizing.

She stood in front of me, completely comfortable in her own skin. Her pupils were dilated, her lips parted in half a smile, mostly lust. She wasn’t shy; she wasn’t trying to cover up. She was stunning in her most sincere form.

I shifted to the edge of the seat, put my arms around her thighs, and pulled her a little closer. She let me, taking a step closer to me so that she stood between my knees. Her hips were right in front of me. She spread her legs a little so that her legs were open. An invitation. Her confidence in her own body was the real turn on, but shit, her body was one for the books. The kind of body you saw in magazines, but she wasn’t airbrushed.

I reached forward and touched her between her legs with my fingertips, testing the water. She looked at me, eyes drowning deep and a naughty smile on her face, and she didn’t pull away or stop me. I probed deeper, pushing my fingers between the folds. She was wet and wanting. The scent of her sex reached me and made me dizzy. Sweet and eager. I could get high from her natural scent, the smell of sex.

I pushed my fingers into her, and she gasped. Her body was soft and inviting, clenching tightly around my fingers. I had to taste her. I wanted to have my mouth all over her body, but right now there was just one place I wanted to go.

I leaned forward and put my lips on her. That smell turned into a taste on my lips, and I nearly came. I flicked my tongue over her clit, the little nub hard with her arousal, and she moaned. She tipped her head backwards, which pushed out her breasts, and she buried her fingers in my hair.

I licked her, tasting her, listening to her moans and tailoring what I was doing to her. With my fingers, I pushed in and out of her, and I sucked and licked her clit. I dragged a flat, wide tongue over her, lollipopping her slow and lazy-like. Her body shuddered in my hands and my cock twitched, wanting in.

I wasn’t done yet.

She was getting closer. Her body was soft and supple in my hands, and she tensed and released every now and then, her body already mimicking the motions of sex.

Her breathing sped up, her body shuddered again, and then her mouth opened in a silent O. I kept sucking and pumped my fingers harder, and then another shudder racked through her body, harder and stronger than before. She moaned, clenching her fists in my hair. She orgasmed in my mouth, and I felt her clamp down on my fingers, the contract and release, contract and release of her muscles making me twitch in my own pants again.

When she came down from her orgasm, she let go of my hair.

“You’re still dressed,” she said in a breathy voice.

“I can fix that,” I said. I pulled my fingers out of her. They glistened with her juices, and I still tasted her on my tongue. I unbuttoned my shirt and shrugged out of it. The belt and pants were next, but I kicked off my shoes before I pulled it over my feet. The socks were last.

I stepped closer to her again, and my cock pressed against her skin. I felt my own wetness, the tip oozing against her skin with anticipation and lust. I kissed her, holding her against me, skin on skin, and turning her toward the couch as I did. I lay her down as we’d been before, this time with nothing between us. She spread her legs, and I got in between them.

“God, Rip,” she said, and I took it as an invitation that she didn’t have to issue twice.

I pressed my tip against her entrance, and she gasped. I’d slept with her once before, and this was even better than I remembered. And I remembered it to be fucking good.

I slid into her, and her body clamped down around me, tight and insistent. I groaned, resting there a little so she could adjust to me, and I could adjust to her.

Then I pulled back out again, just far enough that the tip was still inside of her. She gasped and my balls tightened, the friction feeling like ecstasy. I wanted more. I wanted all of her. Lust built inside of me in a wave, and I pushed into her again, fast and hard and all the way to the hilt. She gasped again and moaned out loud, arching her back so it pushed her breasts up. It was the most erotic thing I’d seen in a long time, and I’d been with a lot of girls.

I continued my motion, pushing and pulling, pumping harder and harder. Her body rocked with the movement, her breasts jiggling, and those nipples were puckered and hard. I balanced on one hand and groped her with the other hand, pinching and tugging before I let go of her again and leaned down to kiss her.

She wrapped her leg around my waist, and when I fucked her, I went even deeper. Her breath was a constant pant in my ear. By the sounds of it she was close to another orgasm. I wanted to ride her until she came again, but I was getting close too, my balls squeezing and that delicious tightness spreading through my body.

I didn’t want it to be over, not yet, so I dropped down to my elbows and slowed down all the way. My chest was against hers now, my bare skin on her breasts. She was breathing hard, her heart hammering against my ribcage. I moved my hips slowly, stroking her body with mine.

“Let me get on top,” she said in a breathy voice close to my ear. I didn’t hesitate. I liked it when women took charge. I liked it when Alex told me what to do, both when it came to cards, and now with sex. She had a hell of a character and a backbone to boot. It made her beyond sexy.