Love in the Cards (Whole Lotta Love #1)

by Sahara Kelly

  He’d bantered with his companions, contrived to lose the note with a hotel room number on it that a woman had slipped beneath his coaster and pretended not to notice the waitress’s breasts.

  The last one had been tough, since they showed every sign of being ready to pop out of her skimpy top and give him a personal “Hoo Rah” if he wanted.

  He didn’t want. All he could think was Maggie’s were nicer.

  And for him, that was odd.

  He’d seen her, of course, the minute he’d walked into the hall. It was almost as if he’d expected to see her, since nobody with her finely honed gambling instincts could ignore a tournament like this one. She knew her way around a game of poker, whether betting her socks or her cash, and she’d gotten him more excited in bed than he’d been since he’d scored four aces in a wild game of five-card stud several years ago.

  And that was also odd. Up to now, Deuce could take women or leave ‘em. He’d usually taken them, since fucking was a basic pleasure to be enjoyed as much as any other basic pleasure. Well, okay, probably more since there weren’t too many basic pleasures to equal a hot roll between the sheets.

  But there was something about Maggie. Maybe it was her uninhibited pleasure or her smile—or that barely noticeable tremble in her lower lip when she was about to come. He didn’t know, didn’t care and decided he’d just have to go see her again and maybe find out just why the memory of last night was stuck in the back of his mind like a warm furry kitten, purring.

  He wanted to purr some more. His cock stirred and he frowned. He wanted to play cards right now, not hide-the-salami. Focus, boy, focus.

  Easily winning his way to a spot in the second round, he settled down to do battle with the semi-pros, a couple of whom he recognized from other tournaments. These guys weren’t dicking around for fun, they were serious players, and Deuce shoved the image of Maggie shuddering on top of him away. Firmly. Cards now, sex later.

  Most definitely sex later.

  On that uplifting thought, he picked up his cards and proceeded to remove the piles of chips from the other players with a minimum of problems. Life was good, the cards were running his way and he was cleaning up.

  Hoo Rah.

  ~~~~~

  Maggie sighed as she stripped off her clothes in her room and glanced at the silver chip that would buy her a seat in the big game.

  She’d done it. Made it to the final round.

  Tomorrow the big game would be held, one table, four players—and half a million dollars up for grabs at the end of a simple game of five card stud. Staring at it, she plunked her butt down on the side of the bed and wondered why she was more excited at the thought of seeing Deuce tonight than seeing aces tomorrow.

  She giggled at her own pun. Jeez, since when had Maggie the poker player turned into Maggie the wanton slut? It wasn’t a real tough question.

  Since Deuce had gambled his way into her bed, or his bed, or the shower, or wherever—hell, she didn’t give a shit. Still buzzed from the thrill of winning the last couple of hands, she was hornier than a randy bitch in heat and couldn’t wait.

  She took off her bra and panties and slipped on her robe, wandering around the room, tapping one finger against her lips in thought. How to welcome Deuce? A bit of lace, perhaps? Nothing but a thong? Since she didn’t wear those very often—not liking to get her butt flossed by a piece of clothing—that wouldn’t work. Maybe a matching bra and boy shorts. She had those in wispy black see-through stuff…

  Nah, too obvious. She needed something—unusual. Something different. And yet something he’d appreciate. Then her gaze fell on the deck of cards sitting on the table.

  And a rather wicked grin spread over her face. She reached for the phone and called the front desk. Fifteen minutes later, a bellboy appeared at her door with an inquiring look on his face.

  “Thanks, kid.” She tipped him a five-dollar chip from the pocket of her robe. “Put it on black tonight, okay?”

  “You got a system, lady?” He looked hopeful.

  “Nope. Just a hunch.” She grinned. “There’s luck coming my way. Tonight and tomorrow. I can feel it.”

  “Really?” His eyes widened.

  “Yep. I’m going to get lucky. No doubt about it.” No aces necessary. Just a Deuce.

  “You’re one of the ones playing in the big game, right?” The bellboy looked at her with something very close to worship in his eyes. “We’re all real excited about it. That’s a helluva pot.”

  Maggie nodded. “Yeah, sure is.”

  “What you gonna do with it if you win, Miss?” His expression told of fast cars, faster women and video games as far as the eye could see.

  “Hmm. Let me see.” Maggie thought for a moment. “Well, probably get myself a nice red Jaguar, then drive to Hollywood, mingle with some of those studs out there, and…oh yeah—the latest gaming system. Along with a huge plasma TV and a big couch.”

  The bellboy sighed. “Will you marry me?”

  Maggie laughed. “Sorry, kid. Not tonight.”

  He shrugged. “Oh well. It was worth a shot, ya know?”

  “Thanks for the compliment.” She closed the door behind him as he left grinning.

  Maggie was grinning too. The rest of the casino might be eagerly anticipating tomorrow’s final round of poker, but there was one guest who was looking forward to something a lot more intimate. A game for two players only.

  A hot Queen and a Deuce.

  ~~~~~

  Deuce had changed his clothes as well. It had only taken a couple of chips in the right pocket to get Maggie’s room number—which he’d completely forgotten to ask her for—and he’d had the foresight to get some decent glasses and a bottle of champagne. No drinking from tooth mugs tonight. He grinned and stepped out of the elevator onto her floor. He might not have been a Boy Scout but tonight he was prepared.

  All was quiet as he found her room and tapped on the heavy door.

  “Deuce?”

  He heard her call from inside. His smile widened—she’d known he would come. He was gonna make damn sure she did too.

  “Yep, it’s me.”

  “C’mon in. The door’s unlatched.”

  Cautiously he pushed it wide and let it swing shut behind him, closing them both into their own private space. He clicked the security lock absently, wondering where she was.

  “Maggie?”

  Deuce looked around. The room was shadowy and dark and he used his knowledge of his own room to find his way past the bathroom into the space beyond, putting the bottle and glasses on the desk.

  He turned—and gasped. The only light came from the small bedside lamp. It was shining on Maggie.

  At least, he thought it was Maggie. It was her head on the pillow. But the rest of her?

  She was completely hidden by hundreds of playing cards, scattered over her body. Only one bare and shapely leg, bent at the knee, rose from her pasteboard blanket.

  Deuce blinked, dazzled for a moment by the reflection of the low light on so many vibrantly colored cards. She was a visual symphony of reds, blacks and whites. All his favorite colors playing his favorite melody.

  “Deuce?” Her voice was low.

  “Uh…” His voice caught somewhere around his tonsils.

  “Pick a card.”

  With lightning speed, Deuce stripped, nearly tripping over his pants as he tried to pull them off over his sneakers. He cursed and hopped from one foot to the other, struggling to get naked as quickly as possible.

  Maggie chuckled. “Smooth move. And to think you’re such a good card player.”

  Oh she was sooo gonna pay for that one.

  Nude at last he strode to the bed and reached out for an ace, which happened to be trembling on the very tip of one breast.

  “Deuce?” Maggie’s voice stopped his hand. “There’s one condition.”

  “Huh?” Jesus Christ, he was gonna lose it real quick if she didn’t let him play fifty-two card pickup within the next five seconds. />
  “I know how good you are with cards. But in this game, I’m the dealer.” She raised a challenging eyebrow. “So I get to call the play. And the rules are…no hands.”

  He thought for a second. “What about feet?” Deuce smiled and held his foot up, wiggling his toes in the air.

  “Nope. Don’t care if you can pick up a dime with ‘em. Feet are off limits too!”

  Chapter Seven

  Maggie tried to quell the shivers of excitement that set the cards rippling on her body. The touch of the feather-light cardboard was an arousal in and of itself, enhanced by the really prime piece of Grade-A male beef staring at her with a rather surprised expression on his face.

  She didn’t dare laugh or the damn cards would have slid around and spoiled her surprise, although she’d wanted to when he’d wiggled his toes at her with that cute smile of his. She wasn’t quite sure if Deuce appreciated her gesture, but his cock was signaling approval very enthusiastically.

  “Hmm…” He stroked his chin, ignoring his nakedness, looking her over thoughtfully. “No hands, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Think you’re pretty cute, don’t you?” He grinned at her.

  “Yep.” She smirked. She couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like she was going to lie there stark naked and just wait for him to jump her bones. Well, she was, of course, but damned if she was gonna make it easy for him.

  He glanced around the room. “Hmm.”

  “You already said that.” She watched him from beneath her eyelashes.

  He moved away from the bed. His hand scratched the particular itch most men have before sex—the ball-itch. He sighed then strolled over to the bureau, idly touching her perfume bottle, rolling her mascara wand back and forth and generally messing up her stuff.

  “Aha! It’s a miniature light saber. Women can lengthen their lashes and destroy phantoms with this. I can see it now.” He waved the mascara threateningly at himself in the mirror. “Surrender, Obi Wan. I am too powerful for you. My lashes are deadly weapons.”

  “Hey.” Maggie rolled her eyes.

  “What?”

  “That’s my stuff.”

  “And your point? Jesus, what you women plaster on your face to look natural must cost a damn fortune.” He smirked over his shoulder at her.

  God, he’s got a great ass.

  Maggie swallowed. Just looking at him was getting a certain four of diamonds real soggy. Or maybe it was a two of hearts. Who the hell cared? She was getting even hornier watching him browse through her cosmetics.

  Deuce turned to look at her with bright red, glossy lipstick horribly smeared across his mouth. “Too much? I don’t think it goes with my hair. Maybe I should try the maroon color.” He paused and wiped the lipstick off with a tissue. “Maybe I’m a winter. I don’t know. Where are the beauty consultants when you need ‘em?” He tossed the tissue into the trash and turned. “Maggie? No hands, right?”

  “That’s what I said.” She blinked.

  “Okay. Then close your eyes.”

  “Huh?” What had he got in mind?

  “Close your eyes. I’ll play by your rules, but you have to go along with just one of mine. Close your eyes.” His voice was firm and she watched his reflection as he raised his chin and stared at her in the mirror.

  What the fuck. She wanted him. What did she have to lose? Maggie closed her eyes.

  And waited.

  For a few moments nothing happened. She felt rather than heard Deuce move up beside the bed, the heat from his body brushing her bare leg. She tensed, knowing he was close.

  A searing lick from his tongue branded her thigh and made her squawk.

  “Sssh. Eyes closed, if you peek I won’t put out tonight.” His breath burned her skin.

  She had a hard time following his directions when the next sound came and it was incredibly familiar. Her frickin’ hair dryer.

  Set on cold, he aimed it at the spot he’d just licked, letting the air dry the moisture his tongue had left behind, and blow a few cards off her at the same time.

  “You bastard,” she whispered, a smile curving her mouth.

  “I actually know my father so technically I’m not a bastard. Just to clear up any misconceptions there.” His tongue traced her shinbone down to her instep and the dryer followed, chilling the flesh in contrast to the warmth of his touch.

  The cards were sliding off her body, revealing more targets for that devastating tongue and the consequent attack of that killer hair dryer.

  God-fucking-damn. Who knew a beauty appliance could be a sexual toy?

  When he reached her toes and sucked them into his mouth one by one, she nearly flew off the bed and cards showered down onto the carpet with soft thuds. “Deuce—”

  Cold air met slick wet skin. “Yes?” He was coolness personified and Maggie could’ve strangled him on the spot. He was cranking every one of her burners up to “high”, yet doing exactly as she’d told him to. No hands.

  Her legs were bare now and she trembled, waiting for the next touch of his tongue. Her eyes were squished shut, her body tingling, as she tried to figure out where he was from the sound of the dryer.

  Aaargh. He was at her navel, licking the little bits of exposed skin and then aiming the flow of air with amazing accuracy. She knew the cards were flying off her and spread her thighs apart.

  Aim that sucker where I need it, you—you—jerk. Her pussy was wet and hungry and spilling over with juices but the cool air continued to tease, tantalizing the other places Deuce selected. Hot one minute and chilled the next, she shivered and shook, taken aback by the intensity of her reactions.

  “Mmm. Now this is what I call a blow job.”

  Maggie could hear the laughter in his voice. Something stirred deep inside her. His humor and pleasure in what he was doing—moved her. She’d enjoyed sex before and enjoyed the hell out of Deuce last night.

  But a realization dawned on her at that particular moment. Sex with Deuce was… fun. Hot, sweaty, sticky, wild and crazy…fun.

  She would have liked a few minutes to work this all out in her head, but Deuce had other ideas. His tongue had made its way higher and—oh God—he’d reached her nipples.

  Maggie was lost. She squirmed as his tongue circled and teased and his mouth suckled her taut and puckered skin. The shot of cold air made her squeak and the rest of the cards flew off, helped along by her movements and sixteen hundred watts of a woman’s best friend.

  She swallowed, trying to find her voice. “Deuce…”

  He lifted his head and grinned at her. “What?”

  “I fold.”

  ~~~~~

  He shut off the dryer and clambered onto the bed. There were no winners or losers, no matter who’d folded. Sure, he’d outplayed her with the hand she’d dealt him, but shit—they were both going to score big-time. He’d make damn sure of it.

  Settling himself between her legs he stroked her skin, so soft and rippling with shivers as his fingers brushed along their length. This was what had been lurking at the back of his mind all day. Maggie, spread out ready for him, waiting—wanting, needing him inside her as much as he needed to be there. It was the only bet he was one hundred percent sure of. That she would be waiting for him tonight. All thoughts of anything other than her went out of his mind. He wanted—needed—it was amazingly simple but incredibly complex. It was out of the ordinary, so far out of the ordinary that if he’d had any breath it would have been taken away. It was unique—and it shook him more than he wanted to admit.

  Deuce pulled back, his hands firmly cupping the cheeks of her ass. His breathing was shallow now, almost panting. He gazed at the open folds of flesh, still dripping from the games he’d played with her body.

  He began to understand the meaning of craving. Like a vampire seeking the existence only found in the warm blood of a pulsing vein, he craved the taste of Maggie. She was nourishment. She empowered him.

  It also gave him a hard-on so intense he was afraid it would deton
ate on contact.

  He had a weakness for going down on women, but this was definitely different. Most of his relationships were simple one-night stands, followed by flowers sent to the room and a schedule of annual checkups to make absolutely sure he hadn’t accidentally picked up anything that might need a prescription. He wasn’t a guy who went out deliberately looking for pussy. But if pussy came his way—as it tended to pretty regularly—he wasn’t about to turn it down. Was it casual sex? Probably. But it had worked for him up to now.

  Not this time. It wasn’t love, he told himself—it was more like he had found something rare and valuable. They just seemed to click together. His finger slid between the shining folds, making Maggie moan. The slippery flesh wrapped around his finger with each gliding stroke—in and out.

  He watched her mouth fall open as he teased with gentle caresses, spreading her hot honey over sensitive skin, taking Maggie higher with each move.

  “Deuce…ahhh…dear God, Deuce…”

  He bent his head and burrowed his face into her pussy.

  Maggie could’ve sworn steam was coming from between her legs as his saliva mixed with her juices while his tongue seared her already hot flesh. The way Deuce slurped with enthusiasm sent shivers rolling up her spine. She let herself go and arched into his mouth, thrusting herself against him greedily, urging him on, in—deeper and deeper.

  All the tension from the daylong poker games had gotten to her and this was exactly what she needed. To be freed from her self-imposed stress levels by a man with an extraordinarily talented tongue. But not any man—this man.

  Sure, she was in the finals of the tournament—against Deuce in fact—but she didn’t want to win at this. She simply wanted to enjoy the fuck out of a sexual adventure. And the man sharing it with her. It might be blasphemy to even think it, but the thought was there anyway. To hell with poker.

  Maggie lifted her head a little and looked down between her breasts to see Deuce smile and lower his face back between her legs.

  Shocks of pleasure streamed up her torso as he found the perfect blend, licking her throbbing clit and combining it with the upward pull of his finger along the inner wall of her pussy. He tuned her like an instrument.