Swing (13 page)

"Why?"

She glanced around at the others swarming to the gaming tables.

"You'l see. Right now, go get al the money you can. Then you'l have her for the rest of the evening."

The thought of having Melissa for the rest of the evening sent his cock rising. Despite his anger at her and his

uncertainly about her purpose here, he wanted to have her. Again and again.

According to Suzanne, Melissa had joined in the ménage á trois as Suzanne had hoped. In fact, it had been the

couple they'd sat with at dinner tonight. Gisel e had told Suzanne that Melissa had thoroughly enjoyed herself.

If she had enjoyed that, Ty had a plan that was sure to convince her to push her limits even further. And the

further she pushed them, the more likely she was to become a convert. Even if she didn't embrace the lifestyle,

how could she throw aspersions on the place if she'd been participating in the sexual activities herself?

"How much do I need?"

"Hard to say exactly. Five mil ion should be enough. You can go to the blackjack tables," Suzanne continued, "but we've found that a lot of the female guests aren't that interested in gambling, so if you can find a way to get

their auction dollars, you'll probably wind up ahead."

Ty raised an eyebrow. "What do you suggest?"

She eyed him speculatively.

"Well, you are one of the best-looking guys here. . . ."

"One of?" He placed his hand over his heart and feigned a wounded expression. "Why, Suzanne, I'm hurt. You've always told me I was the best-looking man ever. I always suspected that was just a line."

She rol ed her eyes. "And you are." She grinned impishly.

"How do you suggest I use that asset?"

"I've noticed quite a few women watching you . . . with longing in their eyes. I think you should start a poker

game for women only. And you, of course. I'll drop some hints to those women that you might be gambling with

more than money. I bet you'll have quite a few takers."

"Your mind works in strange and wondrous ways, Suzie Q."

"And you love me for it." She spun away. "Go to the desk and ask for some cards and chips, then go to the Passion Flower conference room. I'll go round up some victims."

About ten rounds had been played and Ty, who could easily read the faces of these novice players, won

consistently. The problem was, the pots were tiny. The other players, seeing Ty's success, were becoming

skittish. He saw the restless fidgeting and knew if he didn't do something, and fast, he'd lose them.

In any kind of dealing with people, the best strategy was to go for a win-win scenario. If everyone was happy,

things went much more smoothly. It was also the way Ty liked to live his life.

He tapped the edge of the cards on the tabletop, straightening them.

"Ladies, I have a proposition."

Ten lovely faces lifted toward him, their eyes bright with curiosity. He held up one of the auction dollars. "This is what I want from you. What is it you want from me?"

"Well, since you're asking," Lucy, the brunette on his left said, leaning toward him. "I think we'd all like to see a little skin."

"Strip poker?" He raised an eyebrow. "As much as I would love to see you ladies lose your clothing, I'm not sure how that helps me increase my wealth."

"Honey, you bet the clothes, we bet the dol ars." Renée, the redhead across the table, winked.

Okay, now we're talking.

He stood up and removed his suit jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair. He released the top button of

his shirt, then the second, noting the smoldering look in the women's eyes. He released one more button,

parting the shirt enough to reveal the shadow of his chest hair, then sat back down. The women seemed to

settle more firmly in their chairs, their gazes locked on his chest. A couple more women joined the table.

It was strange, in the extreme, to be eyed by women as a sex object. But, hey, he could get used to it.

"Since I don't intend to lose, I thought I should give you a freebie."

"If you don't intend to lose, then you should give us some reason to keep playing," said Emma, a petite blonde in a red dress.

"I know. How about we al stil bet money, but if you win, you take something off?" Lucy suggested.

He stroked his chin. "Only if the pot goes above fifty thousand."

Murmurs of assent sounded around the table.

Rounds flew by. As soon as the appropriate amount was thrown in, al the women would fold. He wished he'd

made the amount higher, but he'd been afraid of scaring them off. Even though it was only funny money, most

people were reluctant to part with it. Even counting socks and shoes, he didn't have enough pieces of clothing to

get al the women's money.

He lost each piece of clothing one by one until he wore only his pants and briefs. He won another hand and

raked in the bil s, then stood up and unfastened the button on his pants. Al gazes locked on his zipper. He

dragged it down an inch . . . then stopped. A disappointed murmur sounded in unison.

"How about we make it more interesting?" he suggested.

"It was just about to get more interesting," grumbled Monique, a woman with dark hair piled high on her head

and deep red lipstick that matched her low-cut sequined dress.

"What do you have in mind?" Lucy asked.

"What if the woman with the best hand gets . . . a kiss?"

Emma's eyes widened. "Oh, I like that."

"Yeah, baby," chimed in Renée.

"But first, the pants," Emma insisted.

He unzipped and slid the pants down . . . slowly, to ohhh s and ahhh s, then wild applause as his pants hit the

floor with the clunk of his belt buckle.

His cock, encased in charcoal cotton, hardened a little at the acute female attention. He sat down.

Betting soared on the next round. This one pot exceeded the total of the previous three, at two hundred

thousand. The winner, Mandy, a tal , blond goddess, stepped toward him. He stood up and opened his arms to

her. She pressed her long, lithe body against him and slid her arms around his neck. His lips met hers in a soft

caress, then he dragged her tight against his body, crushing her generous breasts against his naked chest, and

thrust his tongue past her lips. She tasted sweet, like icy mints. She gasped, then melted against him. His cock

reacted in the most natural way possible. It grew an inch. She undulated her hips forward, pressing hard against

his groin. His cock grew another inch.

Their tongues tangled for a good two minutes, then he drew back. He continued to hold her for a couple of

seconds, his hand securely on the smal of her back, then he released her. She smiled at him, batting her

eyelashes in a demurely feminine way. She was extremely sexy and any man would want to toss her into bed

without a moment's hesitation . . . but al he could think about was Melissa. The pot of gold at the end of the

rainbow. He wanted Melissa.

And that thought disturbed him. Sure his goal was to buy Melissa in the auction and ensure she enjoyed

herself—so much she wouldn't, or couldn't, make Suzanne's resort the target of a negative news segment—but

he realized it was much more personal than that. He'd been fantasizing about touching her, holding her . . .

making love to her. He wanted the woman badly.

Right now he was in any guy's idea of heaven. He should be enjoying the attentions of the sexy women around

him, and contemplating the exciting activities he might share with them, not obsessing about one woman, no

matter how attractive she was.

"Thank you, Mandy."

"Thank you." She returned to her chair, her smile broad and her eyes glittering.

More women had joined them. There were twenty-five or so now. Over the next couple of hands, more drifted

in. His cock ached with need as body after soft, womanly body pressed against him, breasts cushioned against

his chest, ful lips compressed under his.

After several more rounds, he noticed a couple of the women murmuring unhappily.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Well, the kisses are nice for those who win, but the rest of us . . ." Emma's words trailed off.

"We want to . . . see you." Lucy stared at him with longing in her eyes.

A longing he yearned to see in Melissa's eyes.

Suzanne glanced around the bal room, trying to decide how best to help Ty get money together. Her gaze caught

on Shane Woods standing by the bar. He saw her and smiled, then held up a glass. She nodded, assuming he was

offering to get her a drink.

He might be the one sent here to report on the resort, so spending some time with him, ensuring he was having

a good time, wouldn't be a bad idea.

She strol ed toward him as he spoke with the bartender. As she approached, he turned from the bar with two

drinks in his hand, smiled when he saw her, then handed her the martini glass.

"I noticed you were drinking a Cosmopolitan at dinner. I thought you might like another."

The light brush of skin on skin as she took the glass from his hand sent tingles through her.

Her mouth turned up in a seductive smile. "I'd rather have a Screaming Orgasm, but this will do for now."

He blinked, then his smile broadened and he leaned close to her ear.

"Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets." His murmured words whispered against her ear, sending goose bumps

along her neck and down her arms.

Her heart rate sped up as she realized she might be getting in over her head. She sipped the drink. The tangy

taste and the heat of the vodka swirling down her throat revived her confidence and she nudged her head

sideways as she started to walk, signaling him to fol ow. His hand brushed down her back and settled below her

ribs as he accompanied her. She led him out the door and down a hal , into one of the rooms set aside for guests

to go and talk in private. Several upholstered chairs circled a low table, and a couch sat along one wall. But no

bed. She closed the door behind them.

"I was getting tired of al the noise. I thought it would be quieter talking in here."

He nodded and leaned against one of the chairs. He sipped his drink, clearly waiting for her to take the lead.

"Are you enjoying the gambling?" she asked.

"I did a little, but it's not really an interest of mine."

"You know there are prizes to be bid on at the end of the evening."

He shrugged. "I'd rather spend my time in the company of a beautiful woman."

She raised her eyebrows. The germ of an idea occurred to her that would both help her get more money for Ty

and help show Shane what a great place this was. On top of that, it had her hormones sizzling into high gear.

"If you won't be bidding on the prizes, you don't real y need the money you won, do you?"

His eyebrow arched upward. "What do you have in mind?"

Ty checked his watch and realized the gambling time would be ending in under an hour. The women said they

wanted to see him.

"How about if you can get a pot together for . . ." He did a quick calculation. Suzanne had suggested he make his target five million dollars. He only had a little over three and a half million now. He had to step this up. "One and a half million, then I'll get totally naked and . . ."

"And what?" Lucy's eyes were wide.

"It doesn't matter." Emma shrugged. "Most of us are tapped out. We couldn't get a tenth of that together."

"Except that most of you are here with husbands. You could always get it from them," Ty suggested.

Monique sighed. "They wil have gambled it away by now."

"Someone's winning it," the woman standing behind Renée said.

"Honey, this is fun gambling." Lucy smiled. "Everyone's winning."

"Stil . . ."

"I want to know what we get," said Emma, staring at Ty.

He shrugged. "What do you want?" He didn't want to suggest something that might scare them off.

"I want to touch . . . it." Mandy's cheeks flushed red.

"I want to more than touch it." Renée's gaze trailed down his stomach and locked on to his crotch.

"How about I let the lucky winner . . ." He winked. ". . . do more than touch it?"

"Oh, I am so in," said Jenny, a lovely auburn-haired beauty with curls cascading past her shoulders.

"Not one winner. Five," Lucy suggested.

"Seven." Renée stil stared at his crotch.

"Three," Ty stated firmly. He had to think about time. And energy. He wanted enough left to spend on Melissa.

"But not based on the bids." Renée leaned back in her chair. "I think you should draw names from everyone who puts money in."

"Draw from the top ten bidders. Otherwise, someone could drop only a thousand," Monique chimed in.

"Then what do the rest of us get?" Emma asked.

Renée planted her hands firmly on her hips and smiled. "You get to watch."

An ohhhh sounded through the crowd.

"Agreed," Ty said.

"Yessss."

The women scattered. Over the next fifteen minutes, they straggled back in, tossing money onto the table.

Final y, Lucy counted the bil s scattered across the table.

"One mil ion, seven hundred thirty six thousand." She thumped the stack of bil s on the table.

The ten highest bidders wrote their names on a slip of paper and dropped them into a bowl. Lucy, not one of the

ten, drew three names. They weren't even pretending to play poker anymore.

Mandy, Jenny, and Emma stood up and stepped toward him.

Mandy stroked her hand along his chest and down his bel y, to the waistband of his briefs. Her finger slid under

the elastic and she tugged a little. His cock lengthened at her warm touch so close to his hardened flesh. Jenny

tugged the elastic and his cock lurched forward. The women in the room, an audience of at least forty now,