Can't Fix Cupid

by Raven Kennedy

  “You lost again.”

  I scowl at the screen. “Motherfucker.”

  I hop off the stool and turn to face him. “That was fun. Thanks for letting me lose your money.”

  He reaches out for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. I wasn’t sure how he was going to react to the gesture when we left his building earlier, but ever since, he’s been taking my hand all day. Even after I made him eat a hotdog from a food cart.

  “Anytime.”

  I glance over at one of the bars beside us, where a woman is currently crooning old eighties love ballads to patrons. There are several couples in the space, and I bite my lip, glancing down at my cupid mark.

  “I’m going to grab a drink,” I tell Warren as I start making my way towards the bar.

  “I can get it for you,” he says, but I shake my head.

  “I’ll be quick. You stay here and watch my ass sway as I walk. I want to know if it’s an A plus or if my form needs improvement.”

  He seems appeased with his new duty, so he settles against another machine, hands in pockets as he watches me go.

  Turning back to the bar, I make my way over to the tables. I have to be quick and stealthy about this. I’ve never attempted to Lust this many people before, but I’m here, there’s a love song being sung over a microphone, the lighting is low and smoky, people are tipsy and high on the chance at striking it rich, so it seems like a perfect opportunity to try.

  I take a deep breath, and I blow. And blow. And blow some more.

  Beautiful pink tendrils escape my pursed lips like ribbons, mixing with the cigarette smoke and magenta mood lighting.

  My cupid mark tingles as the vapor settles around people left and right. I keep blowing, one breath after another, until I make it all the way to the bar, and then I turn back again, saturating the air with one more pass.

  By the time I walk out of the bar area and reach Warren again, I’m a little lightheaded from extensive exhaling.

  Warren arches a brow. “Change your mind?”

  “Huh?”

  “About the drink.”

  Whoops. “Oh! Uh...I just really wanted you to watch my ass.”

  He chuckles and takes my hand. “Mission accomplished.”

  “How was it?”

  “Your ass? Definitely an A,” he tells me.

  “Thank you,” I say with a pert nod.

  I cast a look over at the bar nervously, hoping that it worked. But maybe there were too many people and I didn’t put enough juice out, maybe I did it wrong, maybe—

  “Wow. What got into them?” Warren asks as my eyes go round at the scene in the bar.

  They’re like animals in there. One lady is now sitting on top of the table, and the guy she’s with is motorboating her. Two other guys near the bar are making out hardcore. A good half a dozen people, men and women alike, are swarming the stage for Miss Sultry Singer, and her crooning voice cuts off at their imminent arrival. There’s even a chick trying to climb over the bar to get to the bartender. All around, people are going at it.

  I grin secretively before turning to Warren. “Must be that eighties music.”

  His eyes move away from the scene. “Must be,” he says as he starts leading me away.

  I’m elated when I feel my cupid mark start tingling up a storm. Sev better be feeling this right now, because that power play was orgy-level magic. I think I just gave that singer an unintentional harem. But let’s be real, she’s going to enjoy it.

  “Where are we going now?” I ask Warren, turning away from the bar scene just as security gets there to start prying people apart. Shame.

  “I’m taking you to play poker,” Warren answers.

  A smile slips over my lips. “Aww, you remembered my list?”

  “I did. And though I think there are plenty of dogs in here, I don’t suspect they’re the kind you want to pet.”

  I chuckle, but he’s right. I’m getting a lot of looks as I walk by in my formfitting dress that I’m still wearing from the photo shoot. I’m either getting appreciative panting, longing puppy dog eyes, or straight up drooling. It all does wonders for my self-esteem.

  But I don’t care about any of them. I lean up and arch my neck so I can speak into Warren’s ear. “The only thing I’m interested in petting right now is you,” I tell him before brushing my lips against his neck and pulling away with a smile.

  He makes a frustrated groan, his hand releasing my fingers so that he can rest it on my back, his pinky teasing the curve of my ass. “Don’t say shit like that, or you’re going to make me pull you into a dark corner and have my way with you.”

  I turn to him, forcing him to stop walking. I let my hands slowly run down his chest, stopping right at the waistband of his pants. “I could be persuaded to put that on my list,” I say quietly.

  He tips his head back like he’s trying to show considerable restraint, which just makes me grin. Riling him up really is the best thing ever.

  “But first…” I go on, letting a single finger hook beneath his belt as I step forward and place my lips right in front of his, so that he can feel the words come out of my mouth. “I want to beat your ass at poker.”

  I move away quick as a whip and start striding like a hot badass towards the poker tables. Warren curses under his breath, but he catches up to me in just three steps. He’s a quick greyhound, I’ll give him that.

  He lets his hand once again settle against me, but this time, it’s placed possessively over my ass. “You’re going to have to pay for that later, Miss Valentine,” he says low against the shell of my ear, causing a little thrill to skate down my neck. Every time he calls me Miss Valentine, my sweet treat goes all gooey in the center.

  “Looking forward to it, Mr. Knight.”

  He bites his lip, and the move is so damn erotic that I almost say forget poker altogether. But then he leads me up to an open table and pulls out a chair for me to sit, and I tell myself that good things come to those who wait. Emphasis on the come.

  He takes a seat next to me, letting his thigh rest against mine, because he’s apparently already started his teasing punishment.

  Two more people sit down, one guy with a cowboy hat on, and another older man who looks like he hasn’t left this casino since 1972. He has sunless skin and cigarette eyes and a combover that probably doesn’t move even when he showers. And I can tell by the look on his face that he wants to sweep the floor with me, preferably catching poker chips in the dustbin as he does so.

  Meanwhile, the cowboy hat dude keeps ogling my breasts. Warren goes all alpha on me, by suddenly gripping my chin, tilting my head towards him, and locking onto my mouth in a clearly possessive move.

  His tongue plunges into my mouth without remorse, and he keeps his hold on my chin, angling me exactly the way he wants.

  Even in my limited experience, there’s something I’ve learned about Warren. When he kisses me, he doesn’t just do it for the taste or the feeling. He does it to dominate. To consume. To take me over like a wayward demon, filling me with sinful fire as he devours my very being.

  And the thing I’ve learned about me? I like it. A lot.

  Chapter 24

  Warren

  “How the fuck did you just do that?”

  I look over at the pink-haired vixen, and I’m both surprised and impressed.

  The corner of Trix’s mouth quirks up. “I’ve got skills, you know?”

  “I do now,” I say, shaking my head as I watch the other two players at the poker table stand up to leave, grumbling as they go.

  The man wearing the cowboy hat stopped looking at Trix like she was a cupcake he wanted to bite into right around the third hand, when it was clear she wasn’t having beginner’s luck. The other man cursed under his breath at her audacity for beating him.

  Meanwhile, I couldn’t have been prouder. She was fucking good. This girl has a poker face like you wouldn’t imagine.

  I stand up while she gathers the chips into a pile, and th
e dealer hands her a bag to toss them into. Even he looks impressed with her.

  When she’s finished, she stands up, slightly wobbly from the heels she’s still wearing. Those things have got to be hurting her feet, but they make her ass stick out phenomenally and make her legs look ridiculously long, so there won’t be any complaints from me.

  Taking her hand, we head over to the cashier, where Trix turns in her chips for cash. She walks away with a very impressive stack, and hands me the five hundred I’d let her play with earlier, but I wave her off. “Keep it,” I tell her.

  “Okay, but can you hold it? I don’t have a purse. Or pockets. Or adequate room to shove it in my bra. My boobs are spilling out of this thing as it is,” she says, looking down at her cleavage.

  She’s right. I don’t think there’s an inch of room in there.

  “One wrong move, and these babies will just pop right out.”

  I chuckle and take it for her, placing the cash in my pocket. “As much as I want to see that, I’d prefer we were alone,” I tell her.

  A pretty blush creeps over her cheeks, but rather than tease her more, I hold her hand again and change the subject. “Where did you learn to play poker like that?”

  I’ll admit, even I assumed she was going to lose. But once again, Trix surprised me.

  “Oh, you know. Here and there,” she answers coyly.

  I stop and turn to her, and my hand automatically goes up to hold her waist. It’s like I just can’t stop myself. “Well, are you going to tell me your secrets?”

  “Sure,” she says with a grin as her hands come up to rest on my chest. I love that she’s always doing that. “Hmm, let’s see. I’m a secret otherworldly entity whose sole purpose is to bring love to people. How’s that for a secret?”

  I reach down and lightly pinch her on the ass. Mostly just because I want to find an excuse to touch that delectable part of her flesh more than anything. “Still with all the cupid talk?”

  She grins. “Always.”

  Sassy thing.

  I pull her closer against me. I’ve surprised myself with how much I want to touch her. Tease her. Taste her. I’m never usually like this, but with Trix, I’m drawn to her inexplicably, and I’m finding every opportunity to feel her.

  I lean in and nip at her bottom lip before giving her a short kiss. No tongue, no time for her to even open up for me. I separate from her before she can attempt to deepen it, and the scowl I get in response to my retreat makes me grin. I want her like this. Trying to chase my lips. Wanting more. Wanting me.

  “I meant about the poker,” I clarify, enjoying the flush of arousal on her cheeks.

  “I just watched a lot of games. I’m very good at observing, Mr. Knight.”

  The way she says it makes it sound like something erotic. “Oh? I’d love to observe you in all sorts of ways.”

  She gulps, revealing her own desire, and I can’t help but feel a sense of male pride at so easily getting her worked up.

  The intensity of our chemistry is unknown territory for me. Sure, there’s been attraction with other women, but not like this. I’ve always been more of a loner. I take a woman out once, comfortable with the fact that we probably won’t see each other again. No strings, no expectations, just sex.

  But with Trix, it’s different. There’s this magnetism between us that’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before. The more time I spend with her, the more time I want with her. And that’s dangerous.

  “Are you ready to leave the casino, or are you also harboring a secret expertise for roulette?”

  “I’d probably be awesome at that too, but I think I’m ready to get out of here,” she says. “What do you want to do next?”

  “Hmm,” I hum in thought.

  I pull out my phone, sending off a quick text to let my driver know we’re coming out. He’s been waiting for us in the parking lot for the past hour. I see about fifteen missed calls from work and another thirty emails on my phone after I finish sending off my message, but I ignore them in favor of my continued escape from reality.

  I’ve never left early from work before, but I can’t say I regret it at all. I spent the entire day with Trix, doing random things that I would normally abhor. But with her, she makes everything fun, new, and exciting. I mean, I ate a hot dog today for chrissake. I hate those damn things, and yet, I’d choke down a hundred more if it meant I could be eating with her.

  I steer Trix towards the exit, glad that she’s up for continuing our date, despite the fact that it’s getting late. Normally, this is the time when I’d be behaving like a total jackass to get the woman to leave. But with Trix, I find that I don’t want our evening to be cut short. I want much longer with her.

  As we step out into the night air, I spot the car and lead her across the parking lot. “I have an idea of what we can do,” I tell her.

  “Oh? What is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Hmm. Very mysterious,” she teases.

  A big group of bachelor party attendees pass by us, catcalling to Trix as soon as they spot her.

  On instinct, I tug her closer to my side, my hand wrapping around to splay possessively over her stomach. With one glower from me, the guys instantly shut up and keep walking.

  A bubble of laughter escapes Trix’s lips, and she jabs an elbow into my side. “Oh shit, you totally just marked your territory all over me.”

  I cock a brow, acting like I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Excuse me?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t even try to act nonchalant. That was equivalent to a dog lifting his leg to pee on me.”

  I grimace slightly at that unhygienic comparison.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she goes on. “I liked it. I just got publicly claimed by the Warren Knight. It’s quite the accomplishment.”

  I try really hard not to like the fact that she liked me being possessive of her, but I can’t stop myself.

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie as we reach the car.

  She chuckles and pats me on the arm. “Sure you don’t.”

  My driver already has the door open for us, so we slide in easily, and I crowd Trix’s space as soon as I settle into the seat beside her. I tug one of her legs to rest over mine, and she responds to the comfortable gesture by resting her head on my shoulder. I stretch out my arm behind her back and hold her against me, tracing soft circles on the skin of her arm.

  We stay like that the entire ride back to my gated community, with such familiarity that it feels like I’ve been holding Trix like this for years.

  Once we pull up to my house and exit the car, I give my driver a nod of thanks and then start heading up my driveway. But when Trix starts veering towards my front door, I tug her away.

  She looks over at me with question in her eyes. “We’re not going inside?”

  “I figured we can get a few more things off your to-do list tonight,” I tell her.

  I lead her around the grassy expanse of my front yard, all the way to the back. I unlock the gate with my code, and then I take her past the patio area and pool, heading down the private hilly pathway that leads to the beach.

  As soon as she realizes where we’re heading, her breath catches in her chest. “You’re taking me to the ocean?” she asks quietly as I help her down the wooden steps inlaid into the side of the hill.

  “I am.”

  She’s quiet, making me wonder what she’s thinking, but when I look back at her, I see that she’s watching me with an inquisitive look on her face, a slight pucker between her eyebrows like she’s trying to figure me out.

  When we reach the bottom of the hill and hit the soft sand, I bend down to relieve her of her shoes. I tap her gently on her ankle to indicate what I want, and she dutifully raises one foot and then the other for me.

  I let my touch stroke its way lightly around her ankle, marveling at the softness of her skin. I carefully unclasp the back of the straps before tossing the heel
s onto the ground.

  She groans a little and lets her toes sink into the soft sand. “Oh shit, that feels good,” she says, looking down. “It’s so soft!”

  I smile at her enthusiasm as I kick off my own shoes and socks, leaving them next to hers.

  Retaking her hand, I tug her towards the cusp of the ocean waves. Her face lights up as soon as the water grazes her toes. And the way she looks out at the ocean… It’s mesmerizing.

  With the moon lighting up her face, she looks like a goddess I want to worship. Just one simple moment like this, of her just looking at the ocean, and she’s filled with palpable joy. And that’s what she brings to me every time I’m around her, I realize. This excitement for life that I’d lost.

  Looking at her like this, her white dress practically glowing, tendrils of her pink hair floating around her face from the winds, and her eyes locked on the waves—she has such a look of wonderment in her expression that it makes my chest ache.

  Unable to go a second longer without touching her more, I reach up to grab her chin, turning her face towards me. “You act like you’ve never seen the ocean before,” I murmur.

  Her eyes dart over to look at the water again before meeting mine. “I’ve looked at it lots of times, but…” she trails off.

  “But what?”

  “I’ve never been able to come down and see it for myself. To feel it. I’ve always been separated before.”

  I can relate to that, but for me, it was because of my own detachment. Something that is slowly fading away whenever she’s in my presence.

  My hands move, trailing down her waist, and then I skim my fingers down to the hem of her dress and pause.

  She shivers, but she doesn’t reach down to stop me. Instead, her hands automatically twine behind my neck to pull me closer.

  “Two items,” I tell her quietly.

  Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “What?”

  “You said you wanted to step into the ocean. That’s one item on your to-do list.”

  I know she realizes what second item I’m talking about the moment her eyes widen.