MISSISSIPPI DRY SPELL
Destiny Blaine
Erotic Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Erotic Romance
Mississippi Dry Spell
Copyright © 2013 Destiny Blaine
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-952-5
First E-book Publication: October 2013
Cover design by Dawné Dominique
Edited by Larriane Barnard
Proofread by Laurie White
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Secret Cravings Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
Dedication
For John and Charles
Thanks to you, I know what it feels like to be pampered like a rock star.
You ruined me for life
And for my readers who asked for a sex-driven erotic story, this one is for you!
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*Trouble With a Cowboy, a western, erotic romance:
Can some slashed tires and an ornery bull bring two hard-headed people together for some fun in the sun and a little more?
**Forget Me Not, paranormal erotic romance:
A war is brewing, a war that could destroy an entire vampire race if left unchecked, and Julian Marino has been requested to participate in it. He stops his search for a long time friend to go home and discovers there is more at stake than just his wants.
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MISSISSIPPI DRY SPELL
Destiny Blaine
Copyright © 2013
“Seven! Seven out!” The stickman glanced at Blaire and shrugged as the craps table dealers raked in the house’s win.
Blaire’s heart sank. She’d been on a good forty-minute roll, but she’d suspected her luck would soon turn. Still, she’d kept pressing her bets, trying for the big score. She should’ve known better. After thirty minutes of continual chaos, the house gained an advantage and was fated to end up with a hefty payday.
“That hurt,” she grumbled. “I wish I’d listened to my gut.”
“I’ll say,” the stickman shot back. “The dice were hot until the boss came over and slowed down progress. You of all people should’ve known to pull back.”
She wouldn’t argue there. She had about ten grand on the table and after a huge hit to her bankroll the day before, she wasn’t in a very comfortable position.
Her casino host immediately headed her way. Sometimes Blaire believed the guys upstairs kept Darren on speed dial. Whenever she lost a lot of money, he was right there to reassure her.
Darren was always prepared, pitching great comps and promising more of the same. He would often send her to the casino’s award-winning steakhouse and regularly lavished her with spa and gift shop certificates. He pretty much went out of his way to keep her business at Riverbanks Casino.
“How’s it goin’, baby?” Darren asked.
In Tunica, everyone was addressed as “baby,” but coming from Darren, it sounded a little sexier.
“I’ve had better days,” she mumbled, stuffing her left hand in her slingshot bag and retrieving her room key. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
Darren frowned. “Where ya goin’, baby?”
“After a nap, I may head home in a few hours. I just took a big hit. Lost nearly twenty thousand yesterday and I’m down ten today.”
“Ah,” he drawled, draping his arm around her shoulder. “But you had a good time, right?”
Fuck no. Is he kidding? She hated to lose. Without supplying a response, she stared off in the distance, at a complete loss for words.
“Tell ya what, stick around. I have a surprise for ya.”
“I’m not hungry, and I don’t want to shop,” she said, pouting.
Blaire hated to admit it, even to herself, but when she lost,
she sort of blamed Darren. She had become a loyal big player after Darren had pursued her for business. With other casino choices in Tunica, any number of VIP hosts would’ve loved to have had a chance to earn her action. Darren was so good at his player development position, she felt obligated to stay and play at Riverbanks, even when her luck took a turn for the worse.
“What I have in mind for ya doesn’t involve sittin’ down for a meal or tryin’ on clothes.” He winked. “In fact, clothin’ isn’t a requirement.”
Blaire blinked. What on earth was he suggesting?
“Go on upstairs. I’ll stop by your room in a few hours.”
“What are you up to?” she asked, letting him steer her toward the elevators.
“You’ll see soon enough. Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll take care of everything. And Blaire, just remember, baby, what happens in Tunica stays in Tunica.”
“You’re telling me,” she grumbled. “When I head home, I’ll leave behind over thirty thousand dollars.”
Two hours later, Blaire was in the middle of tallying up her losses when the phone rang. “Yes?”
“Hey, Blaire, it’s Darren. Listen, I’m tied up in a meetin’, but a couple of my friends are on their way to meet ya. They should be there about any minute.”
“Friends? What friends?”
A loud thud resounded. Blaire stared at the door.
“Don’t be alarmed. You’ll love them.”
“What friends, Darren?”
A series of repetitive pecking reminded her of uninvited, and quite impatient, company.
“Okay, baby. Greet your guests. Have a good time and I’ll see ya on the casino floor later tonight.”
“Darren, wait!”
The line went dead and another round of knocks began. Damn it. She took a moment to pause at the mirror and admire her new bleached-blonde color, compliments of Darren and the Riverbanks Casino Spa. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and took a shallow breath.
A long time ago a player from Birmingham told Blaire about the personal perks that kept her playing at Riverbanks. With a twinkle in her eye, the older woman had said, “At Riverbanks, I’m always guaranteed a sure thing.”
Blaire strode across the room and stuck her face against the flat surface, peering through the peephole with one eye closed. She immediately understood why her friend from Alabama kept coming back for more. She opened the door.
“You must be Blaire,” the taller one said. “I’m Kane. This is Brad. May we come in?”
Blaire swallowed. This was the part where she was supposed to move out of the way, press her chest forward and hold her shoulders back while purring, “Of course.” Oh God! Did I really just say that?
Before she realized what she had invited in, her back was against the interior wall and two handsome fellows had entered her suite. They’d obviously made themselves at home in a few hotel rooms.
Kane went straight to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of champagne. “Grab some glasses, Brad.”
“I only have plastic cups,” she said. “And by all means, make yourselves comfortable.”
“We will,” Brad assured her. He walked behind the wet bar located in the corner of the room and opened the built-in cabinet. “Well, what do you know, Darren took care of us.”
Returning with three goblets, he set them on the dresser. Kane popped the cork, and the glasses were filled and passed around.
“To new beginnings,” Kane said, proposing a toast.
“To the afternoon ahead,” Brad added.
Rims clinked together for a resounding ding, and Blaire quickly said, “To winning.”
Kane chuckled. “That’s a gambler for you. She has two fellas in her room ready to make all her dreams come true, and in her mind she’s still downstairs throwing dice.”
“How’d you know I’m a craps player?”
“Darren tells all,” Kane replied.
“Apparently not,” she grumbled. “I don’t quite understand why you’re here.”
Kane and Brad exchanged a knowing glance. Brad placed his glass on the bedside table and sat on the bed, crossing his left leg over his right thigh. With a fair complexion and dark hair, he looked as if he’d missed too many days in the sun. As he stuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth and watched her curiously, she wondered if he was short on Vitamin D because he spent too much time lounging around in bed. She was afraid to ask.
Kane stripped his shirt over his head and flexed his muscles. “It’s hot in here. Don’t you believe in turning on the AC?”
“You don’t waste time, do you?” Brad asked, patting the empty spot beside him. “Come over here and let’s get acquainted, Blaire.”
“I’m fine where I am.”
Her gaze settled on Kane. She couldn’t help but focus on his six-pack in the middle. Good heavens, he’s a hunk of a man. With chiseled abs, a dark tan, brown eyes, and white-blonde hair, Kane looked like a surfer boy turned rogue.
Both men were sexy, but complete opposites, and one thing was crystal clear. They were gigolos, well-paid male companions. They were by and large the best perks Darren had ever provided.
Blaire sipped her champagne, then set her goblet on the dresser and crossed well-toned arms over her full breasts. “Why are you here exactly?”
Brad frowned. “I told you he wouldn’t tell her. He never tells the young ones what he has in mind.”
Kane stroked his chin. “Do you know what we are?”
“Gigolos?”
“She’s smart and beautiful,” Brad said.
Blaire blushed.
“I prefer to think of myself as a male companion,” Kane explained, watching her. “How old are you, Blaire?”
“Twenty-two,” she replied. “You?”
“Thirty,” Kane said.
“Forty,” Brad added.
“Really?” At forty years old, he’d probably serviced his share of clients. “How long have you been in this business?”
“That’s her polite way of asking you if you’re disease-free.”
“No, it isn’t,” she objected. “It’s just that I would have thought…I mean…if you believe in old wives’ tales about gigolos and whores, that is, I would’ve thought he would’ve been—”
“Rode hard and put up wet?” Kane suggested, pouring another glass of champagne.
She secured a strand of hair behind her ear and twitched her nose. “I don’t mean to be rude.”
“I’m not offended,” Brad told her. “Actually, I’ve only been in the business for a couple of months.”
“That’s hard to believe,” she said, taking a seat on the bed.
“It’s true. The economy hit the building industry, and I was out of a job.”
“Were you a contractor?”
“Electrician,” he replied, leaning on the bed with his palm under his head for support.
“How about you?” she asked, studying Kane.
“I’ve been doing this since I was twenty-five,” he admitted.
“Five years,” she muttered, processing mentally.
“Some say I’m pretty good at my job.”
“Let me guess. That means you don’t form unnecessary attachments to the clients you see.”
“To date, I haven’t serviced anyone I’d want to pursue.”
“Spoken like a jerk,” she said, rising from the bed.
Kane acted fast and leaped in front of her. Bracketing his arm around her waist, he drew her against him. “I’m not the keeping kind, so it’s a pretty nice setup for the ladies and for me.”
Behind them, Brad shrugged away from his shirt. He was probably ready to move things along. Maybe these guys lived by the love ’em and leave ’em motto.
At the thought, she decided to slow down their game. “So tell me something, Kane. What kind of services do the two of you provide, exactly?”
Perhaps a little stunned at the question given their close proximity, he lowered his mouth and whispered across her l
ips. “We’re at your disposal, baby.”
She nipped at his mouth, giving better than receiving. “Considering I haven’t been laid in well over a year, I think Darren had a good idea when he hired the two of you. He may wish he hadn’t taken the initiative.”
“Why’s that?” Brad asked, standing.
“I’m a firm believer in luck, boys. By the look of things, mine just drastically changed. The house won’t stand a chance by the time I’m done with the two of you.”
“We heard you were having a bit of a dry spell,” Brad said, joining them from behind her.
With his denim-clad cock positioned against her ass, she easily felt his hard length bulging in his Levis. She squeezed her thighs together, but couldn’t exactly ignore the heat between them, the way her arousal practically licked at her pussy lips.
Her dry spell was yesterday’s news. She was definitely wet where it mattered.
Brad massaged her stiff shoulders, and Kane lifted her chin to his. Dropping a kiss on her mouth, he rubbed his lips over hers.
She sighed. Oh sweet, sweet mercy! Did she sound desperate? Easy? Was she willing to let these two men take her places she’d never dared to go? Draping her arms over Kane’s shoulders, she raked her recently manicured nails across his flesh, drawing him closer. “Oh my.”
Now, she sounded desperate.
Kane’s hands wandered. He slowly unbuttoned her shirt and slid his fingers inside her bra, cupping her breasts and raking the pads of his fingertips over her nipples.
Brad nipped at her ear, whispering all sorts of Italian promises she couldn’t translate. Oh but if only she could! His gutturally spoken dialect placed quivers in her belly and shivers up her spine.
Kane rested his hands on her shoulders and stared longingly into her eyes. Brad’s palms fell to her hips, and his firm fingers crawled around her waist, working with her snap and zipper.
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