Luck of the Devil

by March, Meghan

  He lifts his own drink to his lips and takes a sip. “I could. But that’s not why I’m here. This is your game. I’m just arm candy at best, and a distraction at worst.”

  His droll tone while referring to himself as arm candy is too much. My entire body shakes as a belly laugh bubbles up from deep down.

  “Is that what you are? Arm candy?” I lift my other hand to my face, trying to cover my mirth before I draw too much attention to myself.

  Forge grins widely, and the smile threatens to split his face in two. “Damn right, and I’m good at it. Now, let’s go charm these guys into thinking you’re not the most lethal player they’ve ever faced.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Forge has proven his worth and commitment to me at least a half dozen times over.

  He let me lead, let me play the role I set for myself this evening. Almost as if on my signal, he charmed the women, disarmed the men, and made me feel like we’re untouchable as a team.

  When we step away from yet another couple’s congratulations on our marriage, the sound of the string quartet floats over us as we stand at the edge of the pool.

  I step closer to his side and give in to my urge to inhale the scent I’ve quickly become addicted to. “For a man who I thought hated small talk and polite conversation, you’re really good at this.”

  He rests a hand on the small of my back, and it feels so perfectly natural. Actually, just perfect.

  “I wouldn’t do it for anyone but you.” He holds up his arm and glances at his watch. “Are you ready to leave? I think we’ve stayed long enough to prove your point.”

  “How did you know?”

  The golden outdoor lights lend a warmth to his tanned complexion and glint off his shiny black locks as he leans down to whisper in my ear. “I’m learning you.”

  Before I can think of something to say in response, glass shatters as it hits the cement a few feet away, and a waiter tumbles toward us, his tray flying at my head. I jerk sideways to avoid it and lose my balance, and the tray and I go careening toward the water.

  Forge’s arms wrap around me, but even his strength can’t overcome the laws of physics. We plunge beneath the surface together in a massive splash of thankfully warm water.

  In a split second, I’m pulled to the surface and suck in a breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod, wiping the water from my eyes in a way that I’m sure will leave me looking like a drowned raccoon.

  Forge frowns, sliding his palms up and down my arms as if checking me for injury. Although his black hair sticks to his forehead, hanging in his eyes, he gives no thought to righting himself. The bespoke tuxedo he’s wearing had to cost a small fortune, but he doesn’t give it a single thought.

  His only concern is me.

  “I’m fine. Just . . . wet.” I look down at myself, and my hair flops forward again into my face.

  The entire crowd stares wide-eyed at us in the pool, and I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. The worry on Forge’s face fades away as my shoulders shake, and a smile crosses his face and a deep rumble emanates from his chest.

  “We look ridiculous,” I say as tears slip from my eyes and my laughter continues.

  He pushes my hair out of my face and uses both thumbs to wipe under my eyes. “You’re still beautiful.”

  59

  Forge

  I follow her through the water to the steps that lead out of the pool, and a man is wringing his hands nearby.

  “Sir, I’m so sorry. One of the waitstaff tripped. We apologize wholeheartedly for the inconvenience. Are either of you injured? We can send for a doctor.”

  “We’re fine, but thank you,” Indy replies as she walks up the steps ahead of me.

  The man’s eyes go wide with shock, noticing one fact before I do. Indy’s white dress is now completely transparent. “Is there anything—”

  “We’ll take your jacket, sir.”

  He straightens and then nods like a puppet. “Of course.”

  Indy looks down, and I know the exact moment she realizes she looks completely naked. “Of all the times I chose to wear white.” Her tone is still filled with mirth.

  I snag the jacket out of the man’s hands and wrap it around her. “Let’s get you back to the room, Ace.”

  “I lost my shoes too.”

  I look down at her bare feet on the stonework surrounding the pool. “Someone else will get them. I’ve got you.”

  I lift her into my arms, and for the first time, Indy doesn’t protest. Probably because she wants to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible. I’ll take it.

  Like it’s the Red Sea, the crowd parts and I carry her through, wrapped in another man’s jacket. I would have offered her my own, but soaking wet as it is, it wouldn’t have been the most chivalrous offer. Not that I’ve ever thought much on the topic of chivalry.

  When we reach the elevator, she wiggles in my arms. “You can put me down. I can walk now.”

  “I know, but this is the least I can do since I couldn’t save you from going in to begin with.”

  Thankfully, a smile forms on her lips. “I appreciate that you tried, but you didn’t have to go in too. At least one of us would’ve been dry then.”

  “Where you go, I go. Even if it’s overboard.”

  60

  India

  They say actions speak louder than words, but tonight, Forge’s actions and words are both equally loud. I’m really not sure what to think.

  Actually, that’s not true. If I’m being honest with myself, I know exactly what I want to think—that what he said at the pier on the island is true.

  “Talk is cheap, but I’m not. I’m going to prove it to you. I want you to shine, and I’m going to do everything I can to make it happen.”

  His words echo in my head as we approach the room to see Batman and Koba standing outside the door. They both start down the hall toward us, but Forge waves them off.

  “We fell in the pool. Everything’s fine.”

  Bates straightens with a quick nod. “We heard, sir. Mrs. Forge’s shoes are being retrieved.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “Although I don’t think I’m going to be wearing them anytime soon.”

  “I’ll have them sent out for cleaning and repair, ma’am. If they can be salvaged, I’ll have them returned to you.”

  I give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  “We’re in for the night. See that we’re not disturbed.” Forge delivers his order and Bates hurries to open the door, standing aside to let us enter. As soon as it shuts behind us, Forge lowers me to my feet.

  “Let’s get you out of these clothes.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Turning on the charm, I see,” I say with a wink.

  One side of his mouth quirks up. “I don’t think there’s enough charm in the world to get what I want from you, so I’ll earn it the old-fashioned way.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Patience.”

  I choke on the laugh that bursts from my lips. “I didn’t think you knew the meaning of the word.”

  This time, Forge winks at me. “I’m learning a few things . . . like how to make you laugh.” Thankfully, he disappears into the bathroom before he realizes I’m staring dumbfounded after him.

  Who the hell is this man, and which one is the real Jericho Forge?

  I hear the water turn on in the shower, and Forge returns, helping me remove the now soaked jacket from over my shoulders. I step into the bathroom, and when he follows behind me, I’m not sure if he intends to shower with me or not.

  My nipples, already diamond points, turn harder at the thought, and I can’t ignore the burst of heat between my legs.

  I may not know which Jericho Forge is the real one, but there’s never been any question that I’m desperately attracted to the entire package, even when it was against my will. It’s not against my will anymore, though.

  “Do you need help with your dress?
” he asks.

  “Please.” I turn toward the mirror to give him my back and find him staring at me in the mirror. For the space of three heartbeats, we’re both completely still as he watches me, watching him.

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he reaches for the tab of the zipper at the top of my spine. He slides it down slowly enough to be seductive, but then he backs away. “I’ll leave you to your shower. Call for me if you need anything.”

  His eyes are still on mine as he takes another backward step toward the door. The devil riding my shoulder prompts me to speak.

  “Aren’t you stripping too?”

  “I’ll wait until you’re done.”

  I release my hold on my dress and let it fall to a puddle on the floor. I lose his gaze for a moment as it follows my dress and then skims up my naked body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

  “What if I don’t want you to wait?”

  His hands curl into fists at his sides before he flexes them. He wants me as badly as I want him.

  “What game are you playing, Indy?”

  I turn around to face him instead of his reflection and take two steps back until my ass hits the edge of the counter. “Only the ones I can win.”

  61

  Forge

  Indy hops up on the counter, completely naked, and I remember what I told her. Patience. I’m being fucking patient.

  But when I see the silver piercing between her slick lips catch the light, I don’t care if it’s a game only she can win. I’ll play.

  I tear off my soaked tux and remove the studs from my shirt cuffs, dropping them to the floor in a plink plink. Once I’ve divested myself of my shirt and shoes, I walk toward her. The shower door is still open, and steam fills the bathroom.

  Fucking hell, I want her.

  I take one step, and then pause.

  This tournament is about her. Not me getting my rocks off. There’s nothing I want more than to sink into that tight pussy, but that’s not going to prove how I feel about her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  “Nothing.” I turn off the shower, then close the distance between us, and her legs wrap around my hips. She pushes against me, but I pick her up instead and carry her out to the bed.

  “But why—”

  “I’m not fucking you tonight, India. Not because there’s nothing more I’d rather do, but because if I start, we’re going to stay up all night. And you have to play in the morning with a clear head and not be sleep deprived.”

  Two lines appear between her brows. “Excuse me?”

  “This tournament is about you. That’s how it’s going to stay.”

  “So . . . you’re turning me down?” Hurt colors her tone, which is exactly the opposite of my goal.

  “No,” I say as I lay her on top of the coverlet. “I’m going to eat your pussy until you come hard against my tongue, and then I’m going to send you back to the shower so you can rinse off. Then you’re going to get to work.”

  With each word, her blue gaze widens further.

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  Her mouth opens, and she stares at me like I’m a different man than the one she’s used to. And maybe I am.

  “I . . . I don’t think I have a problem with that.”

  “Good, because that’s what’s fucking happening right now.”

  With a satisfied grin on my face, I proceed to do exactly as I promised, using my thumbs to spread her lips and lick from base to clit, then suck hard until her knees are no longer steady.

  I eat her like she’s the finest fucking delicacy I’ve ever tasted, because she is. I suck and lick and fuck her with my tongue until she grabs a pillow to muffle her screams.

  When I pull back, my dick harder than an iron stake, her blue eyes are hazy. I crawl up the bed to press my lips to hers. I move to pull away, but she wraps a hand around my neck and tugs me back to kiss me harder and deeper.

  It’s the sweetest victory of my entire fucking life.

  62

  India

  A knock on the door comes after we’ve both showered, separately, and room service delivers our food.

  He’s my husband. So what if he ate my pussy and then sent me off to shower so I could get back to work?

  Still, I can’t stop thinking about the way he put me first, refusing to get himself off. The way he’s put me first since the moment he made the vow to prove to me that I made the right choice by not leaving with Ruccio.

  Forge rises from his steak to answer the door. When he pulls it open, Goliath hands him something.

  “As you requested, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he returns to the table, I stare at the tablet in his hands. “Did you forget something?”

  He shakes his head as he sits down. “No, but I was hoping it would come sooner.”

  “What is it?”

  Forge taps the screen a few times, and then hands the tablet across the table to me. “Video footage of every player here who’s ever been filmed. There’s also a list of all their known tells, plus the tells that my people have spotted while gathering the footage.”

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  My heart slams into my chest as I stare at him in shock.

  63

  Forge

  Indy’s silverware clatters against the plate when it falls from her frozen fingers. Barefaced, her wet hair wrapped in a towel, and wearing a hotel robe, she looks about twenty years old.

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Of course.” I point at the iPad in her hands. “It’s all there.”

  She glances down and scans the screen before looking up at me again. “How . . . when . . . why?”

  “Because you came to win, and I had the resources to gather the information you needed.” I reach for the sparkling water between us and fill her glass.

  “But . . . how?”

  “I pay a lot of people very well to do what I ask them to do.”

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. In fact, you have a hell of a lot of homework to catch up on before you need to get to sleep so you’re rested for the morning.” I pick up my fork as she continues to stare at me.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

  “No thanks necessary. I told you I’d make you shine, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  64

  India

  I don’t know what to say or what to think. He completely blew me away. It’s also the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me in my life.

  “Well, thank you anyway. This is incredible. Truly incredible.”

  I rise from the table, the food no longer holding any interest at all, and drop onto one of the four sofas in the penthouse suite.

  Forge’s silverware clicks as I tap on the first file, labeled Martin Krause. He’s one of the top favorites to win the whole tournament. That’s when I realize the players’ information isn’t sorted alphabetically, but is in numerical order by their record and skill level.

  Holy shit. Forge’s people are good.

  I delve into the information, reading Krause’s only known tell, one that I’ve never heard anyone speak of. He stops moving his toothpick and lets it settle in the right side of his mouth when he’s bluffing.

  With my lip clamped between my teeth, I watch the first video clip. Well, shit, I would never have guessed that. The man constantly shifts his toothpick around, making it impossible to follow. The pause is nearly imperceptible, but it’s there.

  I file it away in my memory. Tomorrow morning, we all start out at ground zero. Players are seated randomly at the tables in such a way that it’s totally possible, although highly unlikely, that every single heavy hitter could play at the same table in the very first round.

  Closing the file, I open the next one.

  Chen Yang. I played him once years ago when I was still in the underground circuit. He slaughtered the entire table, and I bare
ly made it through the night holding on to my buy-in. I was never able to spot a single tell.

  But there they fucking are, highlighted in yellow on the page in front of me. He touches the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue for a moment before he bluffs. When he has a particularly good hand, he avoids looking at his cards for as long as possible, before checking one last time before he bets.

  It’s a goddamned revelation.

  Forge rises, and I look up. “Let me help.”

  “You’ve done plenty. I don’t know how much you paid your people, but this is a gold mine. I just wish I had more time to study it all.”

  He looks down at his watch. “You should be asleep by two, no later. I had the files sent to me too. We’ll divide and conquer. Tomorrow, before you sit every game, I’ll give you a kiss for good luck, and tell you everything I’ve learned that you haven’t.”

  My face hurts from the sheer magnitude of my grin. “It sounds like you’re a goddamned genius.”

  “Not quite. It’s teamwork. Together, we’re unbeatable.”

  * * *

  Hours later, my head droops, and I lose my grip on the tablet. When it flops over in my lap, Forge scoops it up.

  “That’s enough for tonight. You need your sleep.”

  “Just a few more minutes,” I say, fighting to open my eyes as I yawn.

  “Sleep, Indy. I’ll go through the rest. You’ll be ready tomorrow. I promise.”

  Strong arms slide under my body and lift me.

  I curl into his heat. “You need sleep too.”

  “I’m used to going without. I’ll be fine.”

  “But—” Whatever I was going to say is silenced with the press of his lips on mine.