It didn't matter; he walked away. Cursing to himself.
"That's not normally like you." A player I knew well looked at me.
"The guy was a being a sexist pig," I said. But it was a lie; I hadn't known I had the flush. It was a fluke. And I certainly didn't want the table to know that.
Don't judge me too hard. In his book, Every Hand Revealed, Gus admits he'd played a hand in which he hit a flush and didn't know it.
It's bad poker, however, really bad poker.
Know your hand.
Like in life, happy surprises like getting a few thousand you didn't expect is very nice, but it's always better to know what you're doing, and not to rely on luck and happenstance.
ON THURSDAY I met with Uncle Harry and worked on my 'paying attention skills.'
On Friday I woke up at dark-fucking-thirty and scheduled a Lyft driver to take me to LAX. I'd be on the east coast soon.
A man.
Poker.
Sex.
Snow melting sex.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"Perfect," he groaned. "You are perfect." He sank his teeth into her ass, hard, drawing blood. "And now you wear my mark," he finished proudly. "Your ass is mine."
~ Hanna Lui
I should write a book.
~ Jessica
LANDING IN KNOXVILLE, Tennessee reminded me that America is a lot like different countries all cobbled together under one giant dysfunctional government. Tennessee was beautiful, I thought about what it would be like to buy a farm. For what my house near the ocean cost in California, I think I could own a five hundred acre horse ranch in Tennessee. But you have to deal with the snow. One thing about Rancho Palos Verdes: It's never going to have snow.
Unless global climate change really up and goes all Al Gore on us. I've decided not to worry about it. Not climate change, I care about that, I just don't worry about being paranoid over things I cannot control.
The drive was beautiful.
It's about a two-hour drive to get to Cherokee, in North Carolina, but I took three, stopping for pictures and a snack. The weather wasn't bad, but when I bothered to check the weather report, there was a storm warning. Crap. I don't mind some snow, especially since I was here for fun, but not a storm. I wish I'd paid more attention to the instructions on installing chains. Hell, I'd call Triple-A. I'm a girly-girl when I need to be.
I'd booked a room at Harrah's, but that was for later, for now, I was following the directions to a cabin that Kirk had rented on Airbnb, a mountain place, with gorgeous views, and a forest surrounding it. I think he said it backed into a national forest, but I only paid attention to the sentence, "There's a fireplace, and I'll bring the hot chocolate."
One of the nice things about dating a guy like Kirk is that you can be damn confident he'll think of everything.
Don't worry; I'll reward him. I'm all about reciprocation.
I think I only got lost twice. Depends on how you count.
EVENTUALLY, I FOUND THE PLACE. I'd been worried I was going to end up lost in the woods and kidnapped by hillbillies or a biker gang.
If you want to hear about biker gang-bangs--sorry--you're in the wrong place.
"Yippie!" I said pulling into the driveway.
I wasn't going to be eaten by wolves or bears, nor was I going to be gang-banged by the Sons of Anarchy.
Well, let's just be clear, if Charlie Hunnam wants to fuck me...
Anyone have his number?
Just saying...
The cabin was an old historical place but had been completely remodeled and updated on the inside. I had the entry code to the lock box. Kirk had texted it to me, thinking ahead, knowing that my flight would get me to the cabin earlier than his arrival time. I entered and turned on lights. The owners had a little poster tacked to the wall: instructions on turning things on, where the firewood was kept, what we'd be charged for using it, what to do if there was no hot water. I hoped to God that wasn't going to be the case. Even girly-girls smell like cattle after traveling all day.
I found the bedroom and unpacked my things.
I took a shower, started a fire, and wrote a text message to Kirk.
But my phone informed me that I had no service.
Fuck!
I looked for an actual phone. Not that I'd know how to dial one. No luck, but, I had a bag of Doritos, half an apple, a piece of cheese, and two diet cokes. I could survive until Sunday.
Zombie Apocalypse? Bring it.
I checked the pantry and refrigerator. Just in case.
There was one yogurt that had expired two days ago. Still good. Half a container of cottage cheese. God only knows what bacteria grew in a half-eaten left-over container of cottage cheese. I'd have to be near death to risk finding out.
The rest of the goodies: A bottle of ketchup, a jar of mayo--called Hellman's this side of the Rockies--Why? I have not a fucking clue. If you know, send me an email.
There was a container of something recognizable, it appeared to have a growth of green mold going, so I chucked it into the trash.
A few sandwich pickles were floating in green liquid, and a whole carrot sat in the veggie drawer. A salad! Hell, with the mayo and ketchup I could whip up Thousand Island dressing.
I could survive until Monday afternoon for certain.
Kirk!!!
IT WAS DARK.
It was after ten.
I'd started my day at four in the morning, California time, so I was tired enough to take a nap earlier, but I hadn't slept for long. I still had no phone service and it was snowing hard.
Okay, I'm a California girl, so maybe it wasn't snowing that hard, but to me, it might as well have been a blizzard. I wasn't about to drive anywhere, even if there was only an inch of snow on the ground. I'd rather risk slowly starving to death in a warm cabin, than risk crashing my car and freezing to death.
I know. I was acting melodramatic, but sometimes I'm still a little girl. I think that's okay, once-in-awhile, don't you?
I knew I'd get over it.
Not being a little girl...
I mean, I knew I'd be okay.
Kirk was undoubtedly being held up by the snow, and even if I had to spend the night alone, in the woods, in a strange place, in a snow storm, with no food...
With bears, wolves, and biker gangs lurking--I'm sure...
Fuck, maybe panicking would have been appropriate?
Help! California Girl Stuck in Woods!
I decided to take my mind off the situation. I had already started a fire, so I went looking through a bookshelf of paperbacks, hoping the owners had good taste.
I really should have picked up a Kindle. I'd finished my latest paperback on the plane, and I hadn't thought of bringing more books, not with all the sex and poker playing I'd planned.
Now here I was, searching for something, trying to take my mind off my missing man and the impending blizzard that would undoubtedly leave me to starve or freeze.
I wonder which death is worse?
I found a paranormal horror romance with a smoking hot, half-naked guy on the cover. It would do. I began to read and was soon lost in fantasy.
Triple Dare Dating: A Slightly Twisted Tale of Terror and Lust
...walking into the agency I felt apprehension and embarrassment. I still didn't believe Molly. She might be my best friend in the whole world, but just last Halloween she'd set up a prank using an entire defensive squad from the university's football team to trick me into thinking they'd been poisoned by a lasagne I'd made for a frat party.
The sign announcing the agency was old and faded, it read: Natalie's Dating Agency. By appointment only.
No problem, I thought. I had made an appointment yesterday.
Actually, Molly had made the appoint, I thought to myself now. I'm going to kill her if this is a prank. I steeled myself to be scared, shocked, surprised, or disgusted at any moment.
The door opened, seemingly by itself, before I reached for the knob.
I e
ntered.
The interior was dimly lit, but clean and organized. A very tall white-skinned woman sat at an antique desk that looked like it belonged in a museum.
"You must be our four o'clock, Nancy Sullivan?"
I nodded. Gulped. And managed to say, "Yes, that's me."
My reaction was triggered because she'd stood while speaking to me. She wasn't just tall...she was a center for the Knicks tall. And she wore nothing but wisps of airy fabric that barely covered her areolae and her dark hairy vagina. I gulped again because she was intoxicatingly beautiful and I felt like an idiot staring at her.
She approached me and put out her hand.
Her grip was stone cold, but not unfriendly, her nails long and painted black Her breath was sweet, like Christmas cookies. Vanilla and cinnamon. I felt at ease immediately as if I'd been in my own home, about to have a meal with a loving family.
I realized later she'd put a comfort spell on me, but at the time, I didn't believe in such things.
She asked me to follow her into a back room after she'd introduced herself as Natalie--no other name--and explained the procedure.
"I've been a friend of Molly's since she was a child," she said.
Funny, I thought, Molly's had never mentioned it until just last week.
I sat, and Natalie gave me a form to fill out.
It was extensive, and I think I spent two hours answering questions about myself. Natalie only interrupted me twice. Once to bring me a coffee, and the second time to explain how to find the restroom. How she knew I needed to go, I'm not sure.
"Whatever you, dear, don't mistake the restroom, which is the pink door, for either the blue door, which is the boy's room, or the red door, which you don't need to worry about."
The questionnaire was detailed, and had questions like this:
How do you prefer steak? (See question 29b if you are a vegetarian or vegan).
How do you like your men, circumcised, un-cut, or no preference?
Between lions, jaguars, and bears, which is your favorite?
If you had to choose between being killed by a spider bite or snake bite, which would it be?
Do you prefer to wield the whip or receive the whip?
Boy, if this is a prank, I thought to myself, that Molly sure went all out. I kept answering the questions. It was fun. Some were multiple choice, and some required a written answer. If this was the real deal, I thought, someone had gone through a lot of work.
When I finished, Natalie appeared and picked up the forms, took the pencil and followed me back to the entryway, where her desk sat, like a living creature. I thanked her and left. I sensed a slight aroma of vanilla for the next hour.
I HAD NEVER READ a paranormal romance like this before. Sure, I'd read Twilight (three times) and a few (okay, a couple of dozen) racy, hot, sexy romances. But, never a book in this genre, I was getting into the story, anxious for the sex scenes.
The protagonist, Nancy, got set up with a ligor-man. His animal form was part Siberian tiger and African lion. He was a six-foot-six bronzed, muscled stud when he was in his human form.
The background for the story was a mission that he needed to fulfill. He had to marry and produce offspring with a particular type of woman. Her DNA had to be special for his clan to survive. The arch enemies of the ligor-clan were hyena-wolf hybrids that had a dangerous alliance with a particularly nasty family of vampires.
Anyway, I sped read through most of the violence, bloodletting, curses, background, description, and backstory.
I wanted the raw, hot, unadulterated, nasty ligor-man sex.
REXIMILLION FUCKED ME like no man—not that he was a man—had ever done before.
His massive twelve-inch cock filled every inch, every nook, and every cranny, of my previously under-used and eager love zone. My pink flesh was wet and on fire as he pumped me and growled with nasty, hot, ligor beast talk into my ear.
"Fuck me! Fuck me, harder!" I screamed.
"My Nancy," he growled. "I'll never fuck another. Grrr!"
I could feel his hands lion-handle my nipples like unbridled jungle lust had been bestowed upon him at birth and no man, or beast, would ever claim this territory again.
I was his, all this. I would bear his ligor cubs. I'd bear him a litter if I could.
"Fuck me, my ligor-man, I want to feel your hot skin against my breasts, your strong hands on my ass, please, Rex, don't stop."
He didn't stop grinding his hips, moving his stiff ligorhood deep inside me, while I exploded with my eighth orgasm of the night.
"Oh. Oh OOOOOOOH. You're everything I ever wanted," I admitted to him. "I love everything about your animalistic ways."
"You are my woman, now, and forever," he growled while pumping me full of his ligor cum, which flowed like a river during the African rainy season.
Unfortunately, a violent knock on the door interrupted our post-coitus bliss.
"Be still, my lady," he said as he rose.
I watched him walk to the door, still naked, sweaty, glistening, vibrant. As I watched, I absentmindedly caressed my erect Climax Trigger, the CT, that Rex had already mastered like the stud he was.
My man, I thought, no, my ligor-man, I corrected myself, a beast who would love me forever and ever.
The door opened, and a giant man burst in, throwing himself onto my lover. I watched in horror as they both changed into beasts.
My Rex landed on all fours, an albino cat bigger than any I'd ever seen before. His form, when the shifted, was half-tiger with visible gray stripes under an all-white coat, and half-lion with a thick, white mane. His mighty roar boomed through the room.
The beast that attacked him had an arched back, a hideous laughing cry, and huge paws with massive claws. The enemy creature lashed out at my lover as I watched in shock and horror, thinking about what I could do, if anything, to help.
ALRIGHTY THEN, I thought.
A bit cheesy, but I was worked up. I wiggled my hips and got comfortable. I was wet--maybe it was just longing for Kirk--but the erotic tale of ligor-man fucking was pussy-wetting material.
I was missing Kirk like crazy as my body heated up while reading about some other lucky bitch.
I realized the power of these stories, however, the lust and the longing for love.
I wanted to be loved, cherished, and desired.
I wanted to be fucked silly.
It's not so crazy.
I sped read through the fight scene. Bite. Kick. Punch. Scratch. Barely different from the sex scenes.
Of course, Rex won.
But not without injuries. He was going to need some healing loving. Just like me.
“OH REX, I wanted to help you."
"Never, my love. A woman in our clan is protected by the warrior class. She is not a warrior herself; she's a lover, a mother, and a friend. Occasionally a nurse, can you help me, my love?"
"I'll try my best."
I didn't know much about stitching up wounds, but I did know how to use a needle and thread. Apparently, ligor-men didn't feel much pain. Rex barely flinched as I stitched his wounds. When I'd finished cleaning the rest of his body, I noticed he was hard. It's hard to miss a stiff twelve-inch ligor-cock that stood like a soldier, at attention, in front of you.
I kneaded, squeezed, and fondled his massive sac. With my free hand, I grabbed the base of his immense love organ and holding on tightly, I slid my mouth over his deep purple head.
Rex groaned and growled.
There was no way on this earth I could fit all of him into my mouth or down my throat, it wasn't physically possible, but I took as much of his gorgeous cock as could. I wanted him to feel the pleasure he had given to me. I wanted to hear him growl out in pleasure. I wanted to feel his juices shoot powerfully into the back of my throat. I knew I could suck-fuck him like a champion, but I wanted him to know, too.
His pre-cum covered my tongue, his balls tightened, and I increased my pace.
"Holy Mother of the Jungle!" He grow
led and shouted and thrust his hips as I took a position directly over his cock and sucked as hard as I could.
"I'm erupting like a volcano, whatever you do, don't stop!" he half-growled, half-shouted.
I could feel his hot thick load travel up his shaft, his balls had become as tight and hard as billiard balls, and I cupped them strongly as I took his shot. I felt spasms follow, like a set of perfect waves in a beautiful cove, I wanted each one to be bigger and better than the last. He didn't disappoint me, I sucked, swallowed, sucked, swallowed, and sucked again, until, finally, after his growling died, he spoke.
"My love," he purred.
I kissed the base of his dick, looked up, and said, "Can you lick like a cat, too?"
"My woman," he said. "Do elephants shit in Africa?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
That settles it, no more books about vampires before bedtime.
~ Amanda Ashley
Nothing beats snuggling on a cold night winter's night, especially after sex. Or a scary movie.
~ Jessica
I WAS GLAD I'd found a good book. Midnight went past me like a boring commercial about hair products. Can you tell she's not a natural? Don't know. Don't care.
I put another two logs on the fire and polished off my Doritos. Luxury living, this. But I'm not a complainer, I had a good book, and it was warm. I was hardly going to starve to death in one night. My reading ended with a vampire attack, a bloody and savage fight scene, and a promise for more hot sex in the next book. I replaced the novel and hunted for another. It was too late to start another book, I told myself, while I was browsing for another book. This is where I should insert a 'Lol' because my little joke isn't funny...but that would be obnoxious.
Fifty-Two Pickup: Aces (Jessica Rogers Book 1) Page 12