Page List


Font:  

I find my seat and take in my opponents. There are seven other players. Five are typical business guys in their forties. One is more of a cocky playboy type, younger. One is an older woman.

At first, I hold back, following the energy of the table. By the fourth round, I have a feel for my opponents. Cocky playboy is, in fact, overly confident. The older woman taps her nose when she has a good hand. Of the five typical business guys, only one is hard to read. The other four wear their cards in their eyes.

My bets get more aggressive. I call three bluffs and end up with more than half the pot. Players go out one at a time, until it's just me and the older woman.

The tournament master rearranges everything. What started as four tables is down to two. I have new opponents. Five this time. I take my time to read them then I get aggressive, bluffing when I have a decent chance, calling anyone who falters or bites his lip a little too long.

Nick is on the sidelines with another dozen or so people. He pulls out his phone, looks at it closely, and frowns. Did his mom really tell him not to frown? He's a chronic frowner. So much weight on his shoulders. I hate that. I hate it when he frowns. I want him to smile, to wrap his arms around me and—

Fuck.

The betting is to me and I have no idea what's happening at the table. My hand is so-so, but it's just me and another business guy. He bets big.

I fold. Not worth risking.

My attention goes back to the game, but it's there, in the back of my mind, trying to distract me. Something is bothering Nick. I don't like that something is bothering him.

Somehow, I play well half-distracted. No one can tell if I'm bluffing. After a dozen rounds, we're down to six players and one table.

I've already placed.

No matter what I do, I'm not losing Nick's money. Which means all the risk is mine.

I give myself more leeway to play aggressively. The men at the table look at me like I amuse them. Whatever. I'm used to people underestimating me.

I delight in calling their bluffs. It's less wonderful when someone's full house beats my two pair, but what are you gonna do? It's poker.

The table knocks down to four.

Three.

Me and two men. The older one looks at me like he thinks I'm an idiot. He raises, doubling the pot. The other guy folds.

It's just the two of us.

My hand is good. Two kings with a third on the table. I call.

Next card is a queen, also a heart, but the odds of a straight are low. A straight flush is practically nonexistent.

I bet high. He calls.

Last card is the ten. Also a heart.

He bets high enough I have to fold or go all in. It's a fuck-you play. One that dares me to call him.

I study his expression. It's a bluff. I know it is.

Time to go big or go home. I call.

There's nothing left to do but to turn over our cards. I go first. He nods, giving nothing away.

Then him.

Fuck me.

He's got the straight flush.

"Good game." I nod and make my way back to Nick. I was sure that guy was bluffing, but my hand didn't justify such a high bet. That's what I get for trusting my gut.

Nick rubs my shoulders. His mouth hovers over my ear. "Don't pout. You'll get wrinkles."

I laugh.

"You just won twenty thousand dollars. Ten thousand if you're only counting your half."

No. That can't be right. I look at his face for a sign he's kidding, but it's not there.

He nods.

I shake my head.

"Third place takes eighteen percent of the pot."

I do the math in my head. He's right. Nerves rise up in my stomach. "What am I supposed to do with all that cash?"

"Spend it."

"On what?"

"There's a safe in your apartment if you want to save it."

"You're not going to offer to help me launder it?"

"No."

"When do I get it?"

Nick runs his hand through my hair. "When did you get so impatient?"

"Phoenix Marlowe, don't play games with me."

He smiles. No more anguish, no more frustration. He's smiling.

"We can collect it before we leave or I can have someone bring it to the office." He runs his fingertips over my neck. "I'm not walking home with a briefcase of cash. If you want it now, we're taking a car."

Fuck. I didn't think about that. It's late enough that the subway is only running every hour or so.

"Are you okay taking a car?" he asks.

I swallow hard. My impulse tells me to play strong. To say yes. But the way he's touching me... he feels safe.

"I don't know," I whisper. "Can we revisit the topic after we have sex?"

He laughs. "I hope you never change, Lizzy. You're perfect the way you are."

The words are sweet, but they're confusing too.

I nod like his affection isn't rattling me.

Chapter Fourteen

I follow Nick through the makeshift casino's lounge area. My gaze is drawn to any place with potential. The booths are too visible. The bathroom gets too much traffic. Every room is in use.

Nick leads me to the stairs in the corner.

Oh. The penthouse has a second story.

The staircase is gorgeous. Marble floors, stainless steel railing. The big glass windows look out on two dozen midtown skyscrapers.

My attention goes straight to the top of the Empire State Building. It's lit up in purple today. I'm sure it's for NYU, but it feels like it's for me.

For us.

The door clicks shut behind us. There's no one here, but there's nothing preventing anyone from following us.

From catching us.

Nick slides his arm around my waist. "You played well."

"I was cocky."

His fingers trail over the low back of my dress until they find my zipper. "Do you regret your bet?"

"No. It was worth the risk."

"Is this?" He pulls the zipper down. Then the left strap.

The right strap.

I step back until I'm pressed against the wall. I'm facing the door. If anyone walks in, they'll see me. I'm half-dressed at the moment, but soon I'll be naked.

My sex clenches.

"Lizzy, I asked you a question." Nick pulls my bra aside so my breast spills out. His fingertips toy with my nipple.

Every touch sends a pang of need to my core. I'm exposed to him. To anyone who walks in. It's scary but it's exhilarating.

I nod. "Yes, it's worth the risk." Of getting caught. Of falling fast and hard for someone I'm going to lose.

His dark eyes fill with anticipation.

My thoughts slip away.

I arch my back and press my eyelids together as he teases me.

My lips part. No more thinking. Just this.

"Nick," I groan. "Please."

He pulls the other strap of the bra aside, so I'm as good as topless.

His lips find mine as he cups my breasts. He kisses me deeply, slowly. It's not the kiss of two people fucking frantically in a staircase. It's one steeped in affection.

Casual. This is casual. I try to remind myself of his terms, but there's so much feeling in his kiss.

His body presses against mine, pinning me to the wall. He's hard. I shift my hips a few inches to grind against him.

He presses his lips into my neck. "Beg me."

I don't hesitate. "Please fuck me."

"Keep going."

"Please, Nick. I need you. I've been desperate since you got to my apartment. Since you told me you'd fuck me this morning."

He slides my dress off my hips. It tumbles to the floor. Instead of removing my thong, he pushes it aside. His finger teases me again and again.

I kiss him harder. I need more of him. I need to touch him. I reach for his belt.

In an instant, he removes his hands from my body and steps back. His eyes cloud like he's getting pulled s

omewhere else.

"You don't want me to touch you?" I ask.

His hands wrap around my wrists. "I can only do this on my terms."

His posture hardens. It's an all-or-nothing proposition. All his way or nothing.

I look into his eyes. "It's okay if you don't want me to touch you. I just want to know."

"I do want that." He presses his palm against my sex. "But not yet." He pushes my thong aside and rubs my clit.

He doesn't want to talk about it.

I can respect that, even if I'm desperate to get my hands around him.

Even if I hate the hint of pain in his eyes.

I press my nails into my palm. "Okay. Your terms. Whatever you want, but please fuck me. I need you inside me. I need to feel you come."

Nick pulls his hand away. "Turn around."

I turn so my back is to him.

He pushes my thong to my knees. "Put your hands against the wall."

His voice commands me. I press my palms against the wall. A shudder passes from my head to my toes. I try to push my concerns aside. I like his terms.

I crave them.

Nick slides two fingers inside me. I gasp from the shock of it. There's no more teasing. He goes deep and hard.

His hand digs into my hair. He pulls my head back, pulling my body against his.


Tags: Crystal Kaswell Dirty Rich Erotic