Wild Aces

by Marni Mann

  “You have my attention.” His voice was deeper and sexier than I remembered.

  There was so much happening in the background—chiming and buzzing, laughter and shouting, typical Vegas noises. It made it a little difficult to hear him.

  “I wonder what I should do with it…”

  “Fuck.”

  I loved how that word sounded in his voice.

  “I should have taken you home with me, so I could have eaten your gorgeous body.”

  “It was a good thing you didn’t. You would have missed your flight. I would have made sure of it.”

  “If your legs had been wrapped around my head, it would have been worth missing.”

  I moaned from his response.

  “It’s three in the morning there. Why are you still awake?”

  “I went out tonight.”

  “Were you wearing…that?”

  I giggled. “No. I put that on for you.”

  He breathed into the phone. It was so hot that it made my legs spread.

  “You’re teasing me, Brea.”

  “Think of it as more of an appetizer.”

  “I’m in Vegas. I can’t eat your appetizer from here.”

  He wanted to eat me, and he wanted my legs wrapped around his head. As I thought about him doing both, it was impossible to sit still. My hand traveled to my stomach. I was tempted to move it lower and slide my fingers into the wetness between my legs. But if I did that, there was no way I could keep quiet, and he would know what I was doing.

  “Then come back to Boston.”

  “I wish I could, but things are just getting started out here.”

  What things?

  “Are you in bed?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I pushed the blanket down until it was only covering my feet. “It’s so quiet there all of a sudden.”

  “I’m in my room now.”

  Just him and me. Alone.

  “I think you owe me something.”

  I opened my eyes and looked down my body. My fingers were running along the top of my panties. “What’s that?”

  “A moan.”

  I sighed. My head fell flat against the pillow as my fingers moved across the sides of my body.

  “The one I heard a second ago wasn’t loud enough. I want to hear what it sounds like when you’re touching yourself. Are you naked?”

  “You saw the picture. That’s what I’m wearing.”

  “Then take it off. I want nothing covering your pussy, except for your hand.”

  “Trapper, I—”

  “I’m on the other side of the country, and the only thing I can think about is this picture you sent of your perfect body wrapped in lace, begging for me to drag my fucking tongue across it. Touch yourself, Brea, because I can’t do it myself.”

  There was no way I could deny that request, nor did I want to. There was something about him that I trusted, something deeper than our kiss and the words we’d spoken to each other. I wasn’t sure why or how it was even possible after knowing him only a short time, but I wasn’t letting those questions hold me back.

  I slid my panties down my legs and kicked them to the floor. I exhaled roughly as I rested my fingers against the top of my pussy. “Like this?” I groaned.

  “Yes. Now, I know you’re touching yourself. The only thing better would be if it were my tongue sliding over your skin.” He was absolutely right. “Move your hand to the lips of your pussy. Rub them soft and slow.”

  “What about you? Aren’t you going to touch yourself?” It was only fair that our pleasure would be mutual.

  “No.”

  I stopped what I was doing. “No?”

  “All I want is to hear you come. It’s for me as much as it is for you. Now, rub them.”

  Why did that turn me on even more?

  Calm, demanding, and all about making me feel good. He was perfect.

  I dipped my fingers a bit further down, tracing the edge of my right lip before moving to the left. The wetness had spread there, too. My pussy was pulsing, my thighs were tingling, and my stomach was quivering. All of that combined with the sound of Trapper’s voice telling me what to do were almost enough to make me explode.

  “You sound so fucking sexy,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

  “It feels so good.”

  “Now, use just the tip of your thumb and tease your hole with your middle finger.”

  I tilted my hand sideways and did as he said. “I want it.”

  “You’ll get it but not yet. Touch it like your fingers are my tongue, gently flicking against it.”

  His tongue…that wasn’t difficult to imagine. “Oh. My. God.” My toes curled around the edge of the mattress as I tried to stop myself from plunging all the way inside. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

  “How wet are you?”

  I swiped the wetness with the pad of my middle finger and rubbed it onto my thumb. “Dripping.”

  “And it’s for me?”

  “Yes, Trapper, every bit of it is for you.”

  “I can’t wait to drink it.” A smile crossed my lips while his words settled. “The knuckle in the middle of your finger is as far as I want you to go. And when you touch your clit at the same time, I want soft, fast strokes.”

  I opened just wide enough to allow my finger in, and I cried out from the pressure. “More,” I begged. “Trapper, please give me more.”

  “Where do you want it?”

  “Deeper.”

  A quivering burst shot up my spine and over my chest and down between my breasts. My nipples became even harder.

  He breathed into the phone again. “I can’t see you, I can’t feel you, so I need to hear you, Brea. Tell me how much deeper you want it.”

  “I want it all the way in.”

  “You want to fuck your cunt with your whole finger?”

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  “Why should I let you do that?”

  “Because I need it, Trapper. My whole body is shaking for you.”

  He groaned into the phone, just loud enough that I knew he liked what he had heard.

  “I want you. I can barely wait for this to be you.”

  “Fuck, Brea. Rub your clit a little harder. Circles, fast ones, right over the top of it.”

  “Ahhhhh…”

  “That’s it. I want more of that sound.”

  I couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted me to.

  “Now, push your finger in a little further—not all the way in, but halfway between each knuckle.”

  I was so wet, it practically slid in on its own. “Oh…God.”

  “Twist it inside you.”

  I dropped the phone onto the pillow and rested the side of my face against it, tugging my nipples with my free hand. They were so sensitive, so needy, that the pulling barely satisfied them.

  “Trapper,” I moaned, “I’m already so close.”

  “You want more?”

  I pushed against my fingers. “Yes.”

  “Then give yourself more. But don’t be soft. I want deep, hard thrusts, and I want you to rub your clit as fast as you can.”

  “Oh, fuck!” I screamed.

  “Let me hear more.”

  “Trapper, it feels so good.” My voice was breathy and raspy, and I just kept driving my fingers harder and harder into my pussy. Listening to his orders with my eyes closed and my limbs mostly numb from the wine, I felt like he was the one touching me…almost.

  “Are you getting wetter?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wish I could taste it.”

  I pictured his gray eyes piercing mine while his lips were wet and glossy from me being all over them. It made my hand move even faster, a speed I didn’t realize I had.

  “Two fingers now, baby. Deep and fast.”

  I was completely overcome by the feeling inside me. My stomach was tightening, building, slowly starting to tremble. “I’m close. Reaaaaally close.”

  “Mmm…yes,” he sighed roughly. �
�You like finger-fucking your pussy, don’t you?”

  “Only for you.”

  “Then scream for me, Brea. Let me hear what it’s gonna sound like when my cock is finally inside you. Fuck it harder, so you come just for me.”

  “Oh my God.”

  The thought of his cock made my whole body shake. It was what I wanted—that tall, sexy, mysterious man’s dick thrusting into the deepest, wettest part of me, his hands touching my skin, while his lips ravaged mine.

  “I’m coming…”

  “And it sounds so fucking good.”

  I screamed so loud when the bursts of pleasure rippled through my navel that I knew I’d woken the neighbors. But I couldn’t help it. The feeling was so powerful, so consuming. I was grinding my fingers and rubbing my clit, and the orgasm just kept pulsing through me.

  “Jesus, Brea. I wish I could have just seen that…and felt it.”

  I moaned as the final ripples moved through me, and I tried to get my breathing under control. “That was…wow. Just…wow.” It was one of the best orgasms I’d ever had. And that didn’t make any sense because my fingers had made it happen, and my fingers weren’t supposed to make me feel that good.

  It was him, the presence of him, even at such a distance.

  I hadn’t made myself come at all.

  He had.

  “Close your eyes for me,” he said softly.

  I smiled, practically feeling his breath cross my chest as he spoke. “They’re closed.”

  “Now, gently rub the pad of your finger down your clit and all around your hole.”

  I lifted my hand off the bed and traced the path down the middle of my breasts, over my sensitive navel, and stopped at the top of my pussy. “It tickles.”

  “I want it to.” He breathed into the phone again. “This is my favorite part—when I take the tip of my tongue and lick up and down your clit and all around your hole. I lap it, Brea, so I can taste your cum. I want to taste what I did to you and what you felt because of me.”

  He was dirtier than the men I’d been with in the past. Getting me off was never usually a problem for them, but wanting me to get off as badly as Trapper did was definitely something new.

  “Ahhhhh,” I sighed, his desire causing the reaction as much as my touching did. “It’s so sensitive.”

  “How wet are you now?”

  I rubbed my fingers together, surprised by the amount of thick gloss that covered them and how it seeped out of me as I gently inserted the tip of my finger. “Sopping.”

  “Take a picture of it. I want to see it.”

  I leaned up, gathering even more of my wetness. Then I snapped a shot of my fingertips and texted it to him.

  “Shit,” he hissed. “That looks so fucking sexy. I want to suck them and swallow every drop of it.”

  “When are you coming home?” I pushed back against the pillow and dragged the blanket over me.

  “Four days.”

  Oh God, how was I going to wait that long? A day, I could handle. But four? With my need this strong, it sounded like agony.

  “I can barely wait.”

  He laughed. It was such a sensual sound. “Are you relaxed now?”

  I tucked the pillow, so my face was resting in the fluffy grooves. “Yes.”

  “Then close your eyes for me, and get some sleep.”

  “Are you sure I can’t give you something, too?” I felt extremely selfish about tonight. I didn’t want to make this all about me, and that was what had happened. “I’d love to return the favor.”

  “You already have.” His husky voice kept me wet. “Good night, Brea.”

  Trapper

  I got up from the poker table and rushed out the back door, knowing I only had about a twenty-minute break to get all my shit done. Moving past the smokers who stood in the alley, I looked for an empty doorway to get as much privacy as I could.

  The casino didn’t allow phones at the table. E-mails and texts had been coming through for hours, and I hadn’t been able to check them. Scrolling through the log, there were a few texts from Adrianna, updating me on what was happening at the compound. Two sales had gone through since I’d been gone.

  Poker was what supported the compound initially until it turned from a side business to a main gig. Now, the sales made it self-supporting. I paid Adrianna and the other employees well, and I didn’t take a salary for myself. I wasn’t in it for the money—neither was Adrianna—and poker afforded me more than I needed. I did it because it helped conquer some of my demons. In the long haul, we hoped it would spare the imports from having some crippling demons of their own.

  And even though it was full-time, I’d never give up poker. Traveling for tournaments and playing at Aced gave me a break from the darkness at the compound, from the stories and the memories that were told inside there, from the cries and screams, from the pain of my past. When I stepped inside that door, I was reminded of every scar I had…every scar my childhood gave me.

  I replied to Adrianna, asking her about the details of the sales.

  Then I read Roman’s text. He was checking my game play and the standings, and I shot back and filled him in on both. He had eyes inside the casino, so I was sure he already knew the answers. He just wanted to hear them from me.

  The final text was from Brea. It was a picture of her in bed with a sheet wrapped over her tits that circled around her back and snaked between her legs. All that showed were her collarbone, her stomach, and a little of her thighs. She had typed, Good morning, underneath.

  Her body was fucking incredible. She had tits that didn’t look big enough to be fake but were just the right size to fit in my hands and bounce while I stroked her and an ass that appeared to have the right amount of thickness. I planned on tasting all of it.

  Me: I wish I had eaten you for breakfast.

  By the time I finished up an e-mail to one of the buyers, her reply had come in.

  Brea: Mmm, don’t I wish that, too. How’s Vegas today?

  Me: I haven’t seen much of it.

  Brea: Too hungover to leave your room?

  She hadn’t asked why I was in Vegas, and all I’d said to her was that I had to leave Block’s party for business stuff. She was making assumptions. She had no choice, given what little I’d told her about myself.

  Me: It’s a business trip.

  Brea: I hope you’ll still find some time to have fun.

  Me: Hearing you come last night was my idea of fun.

  Brea: We think alike. When do I get more of you?

  I checked the time. Cards would be dealt in less than ten minutes. If I weren’t seated, I’d be kicked out of the tournament. I typed and walked at the same time.

  Me: What part of me do you want?

  Brea: Your voice. ;-)

  Me: If you mean my tongue, you can have it whenever you want, for as long as you want. It’s yours.

  Brea: I might have to send you another picture just to show you how wet I am.

  Me: I’ll be expecting one.

  Her moaning had echoed in my fucking head all morning. I knew she wanted to hear mine, and she’d even begged for it, but she was going to have to wait. When her lips were spread around my cock and that soft, wet flesh inside her pussy was milking it, she’d get every sound she wanted out of me.

  Brea: Well then, I’d better not disappoint you.

  Me: If I don’t get back too late, I’ll call you.

  Brea: Call anyway.

  Me: You got it.

  I took off my headphones and hung them over my shoulder. Stretching my arms and legs, I stood from the table. Eight hours was too damn long to sit in that chair. My ass was numb, and I really needed to take a piss before I tackled the texts that had come in. I had seen Brea’s name on my screen when I changed my playlist a few hours before, and I’d held off on reading her message. A picture of her body had the power to distract me, and I didn’t want any of the fuckers at my table to take advantage of that. I didn’t give out advantages. If they wer
e going to win, it would be because they’d gotten better cards and they bet right, not because my dick had taken my brain out of the game.

  “Trapper,” I heard as I was heading out of the restroom.

  I turned to find Jameson Walker, one of my sponsors, leaning against a wall at the end of the hallway.

  “You got a second?”

  I reached for the zipper of my hoodie and pulled it down. “Sorry, man. It’s freezing in there.”

  He was the owner of the largest online gambling site in the world, and our deal was, I wore apparel that showed his logo, and he paid me for it. So, I pushed the sweatshirt open and showed him the shirt I had on underneath with his logo in the top corner.

  “I’ll make sure everyone sees it when I get to the final table.”

  “Good, good.” He waited for a passerby to move along before he spoke again, “But that’s not why I want to talk to you. Follow me.” He led me toward the hallway that ran parallel to the bathrooms and stopped in front of the emergency exit. “I know you have to get back to the table, but I wasn’t sure when I’d have another chance to get you alone.”

  Jameson and I had never talked without one of his team members present.

  “What’s up?”

  He looked behind me and to the side of us to make sure no one was listening. “I was told by a reliable source that you could get me something, something I really want.”

  The poker player in me gave me an edge to read most people perfectly, which was why I could read him now. But before I took this conversation any further, I had to know I could trust him. Business deals were one thing, but what went down at the compound was a deeper level of security.

  “Who’s your source?”

  “Garin Woods.”

  Garin was the general manager of The V, the casino hosting this tournament. Six months earlier, he’d flown into Boston with his sister and taken his purchase back to Vegas on his private plane.

  “I can get you what you want,” I said.

  I didn’t question if this was something he really wanted. I could see it in his eyes, and I heard it in his voice. I took out my phone and pulled up his name, sending his contact information to Adrianna with the words, Buyer—call him.

  “Adrianna runs that side of things. I just sent her your number. She’ll be in touch.”