Queen of Hearts (Gambling on Love Series Book 4)

by M Andrews

  I wipe my floury hands on my apron then check my hair in the tiny mirror hanging on the door. Smoothing back the fly-away strands of hair, I push open the door and step out into the café where the sexy officer, Dylan Edwards, is standing, waiting for his coffee and his two passion fruit donuts.

  Dylan has been coming into the shop every morning at six-fifteen for the past three months. He never misses a day. At least, not since I started working the morning shift. I’ve been working at Sprinkles Donut shop for the past year. I started out working the late shift, due to my rehearsal schedule with the Pacific Northwest Ballet School. Now that I am a principle with the company, rehearsals are later in the day and go well into the evening. The Delarosa’s were kind enough to change my shift so I could continue working. It’s not easy having to be up at four a.m., five days a week, but seeing Dylan’s sexy smile makes it all worth it.

  “Good morning, Officer Edwards,” I say, giving him a warm smile. While my eyes drink in the view of Dylan in his dark navy blue uniform, I catch a glimpse of silver hidden away on his gun belt; it’s his handcuffs…instantly, wild images of being cuffed to his bed run rampant in my mind. That, mixed with his neatly trimmed beard and chocolate brown eyes, has my panties completely soaked.

  “How is my favorite honeybee this morning?” He returns my smile as he takes the closest seat at the counter near me.

  My heart flutters every time he calls me his honeybee. A nickname I’d earned one morning when he spotted the gold bumble bee necklace my sister, Nora, gave me when I found out I was going to be a principle dancer. Now I wear it every single day.

  “I am doing much better now.” I wink over at him as I reach into the donut case and grab out two of his favorite donuts. The still wet icing drips down my fingers. I slide the plate over to him and, before I can move my hand away, Dylan grabs it in his strong fingers. He holds me in his intense gaze as he brings my hand up to his mouth.

  “I’m done waiting,” he whispers under his breath.

  A soft moan escapes my lips as he licks the icing from each of my fingers. His warm tongue and dark hungry stare makes all logical brain function fly out the window. Is this really happening? This is so damn erotic. All I wanted this morning was for Dylan to finally ask me out to dinner. Now all I want is his tongue lavishing every inch of my body.

  “I’ve been playing my hand cautiously for the past three months. Waiting for the right time to make my move and make you mine. I’ve wanted you, Zoe, since the moment I laid eyes on you. I had to make sure you were ready for me, but my patience has run dry. I know you don’t have rehearsals tonight, so there is no excuse why you can’t have dinner with me. I will pick you up at seven.”

  It’s not a question, it’s a demand. Not that I would even say no. I’ve been waiting for this since the morning he first stepped foot into the shop. I want to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. God, I hope this isn’t a dream.

  Still holding my hand, Dylan stands up from his stool and leans over me. His other hand cups my chin and tilts my lips up to his. “I’ll see you tonight my sweet little honeybee,” he murmurs before capturing my lips in a warm soft kiss, his tongue sweeping in my mouth. He tastes better than I imagined.

  In my daze, I manage to give him my number and my address. I can’t believe this is all happening. I watch as he confidently strides out of the shop, tucking the slip of paper in his breast pocket. He steps outside, stops in front of the window, and gives me a wave before he makes the short walk down the street to the police station.

  “Oh fuck that was hot.” I fan myself with the coffee menus. My heart is still racing and my clit is throbbing. There is no way I am going to be able to function with all the blood currently rushing down between my legs. I drop the menus on the counter and turn for the kitchen doors. Once in the kitchen, I head straight for the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and lean back against the cold wood. Slipping my hand inside my jeans, rubbing my clit in rough fast circles, I close my eyes and imagine Dylan is fucking me against this door.

  His face is buried in my neck, lips and tongue caressing my delicate skin. The image of his cock thrusting in and out of my cunt has me dripping down my hand. I push three fingers inside my tight channel, pumping them in and out while strumming my clit with my thumb. “Make you mine,” plays over and over in my head until I’m coming all over my hand. My legs shake as my orgasm surges through me. Dylan is not even here, and he’s already made me come better than any of the losers I’ve dated in the past. If this is the effect he has on me from just a kiss, then I can’t wait to see what he can do with the rest of him.

  I step over to the sink and wash my hands. My cheeks are still flushed, and I can’t wipe the smile Dylan has given me off my face. By the end of tonight, officer Dylan Edwards will finally be mine.

  Chapter Two

  Dylan

  I knock on Zoe’s door right at seven. I was so anxious and excited about tonight I pulled up to her building at six-forty-five. I’ve been planning this entire night for the past week. To be honest, I’ve been planning this since the day we met. I walked into that donut shop three months ago and saw the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. With eyes as blue as the ocean, hair as golden as the sun, and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. Zoe looked like a fucking angel, and she turned my whole world upside down. She has consumed my every thought, making it even harder for me to concentrate at work. I keep imagining her long lean legs wrapped around my waist while I fuck her tight little cunt. My name spilling from her perfect sweet lips.

  It took everything I had not to grab her by her hair and drag her back into the kitchen like a fucking caveman after that kiss. I’ve only had a small taste, and I’m already addicted to my sweet honeybee. She has awakened this primal need in me to make her mine. I want her by my side and in my bed. More than anything, I want her heart. I want her mine.

  A man like me doesn’t deserve a real woman like Zoe. I’m no saint when it comes to my past. My dad and my brothers all used drugs to cope with their bullshit, and I used women. Used them to fill the emptiness I was feeling. Zoe is making that pit smaller and smaller. Every morning I look forward to waking up. I get so excited to see her face and hear her voice that I get to the donut shop early and watch her from outside. She likes to dance while she makes the donuts. It’s pretty damn cute. I want to see her dance around my house every day. I want her face to be the first thing I see when I wake up, and I want to watch her come every night before she falls asleep in my arms.

  The door slowly opens and it’s agony waiting to see her face. I’ve been waiting all day to see her smile and feel her in my arms. When she finally appears, she is wearing a red flannel robe, her eyes are red, and her cheeks are stained with tears. Seeing her in tears is ripping my heart out.

  “I’m sorry Dylan, but I had an accident with my dress. It ripped when the zipper got stuck, and I can’t go on our date tonight.”

  “Don’t you have another one you can change into? I don’t mind waiting.”

  “Thing is, I bought this dress today because I don’t have any other dresses and, looking at you in your nice blue suit and tie, my t-shirts and jeans won’t go with wherever it is you are taking me for dinner.” Her voice trembles as she fights back more tears. No way am I letting her get out of this date. I’ve waited three long months for this fucking night, and no way am I letting a ripped dress stand in the way of getting what’s mine.

  I reach up and pull off my tie and stuff it into my jacket pocket. “Okay, so here is what we are going to do.” I reach into my breast pocket and pull out a handkerchief and wipe Zoe’s tear soaked cheeks. “We will stay in tonight and I will cook us dinner.”

  “Do you like boiled chicken and steamed kale, because that is all I have.” She winces. I share in her wince, that sounds awful and not the romantic meal I had planned.

  “That sounds terrible. Let’s walk down to Whole Foods and pick up dinner, and we can have our own little house party. Why don
’t you go get dressed before you have another clothing malfunction on your hands. Because right now, I would really rather tear you out of that robe and fuck you on the floor of this hallway, and I am pretty sure your neighbors wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  A shy smile graces her face, and her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. She thinks I’m kidding but I’m not. My hands are itching to pull open the sash on her robe and see the beauty hiding beneath it. My dick is already growing hard at the thought of touching and tasting every inch of her creamy skin.

  “You are terrible Officer Edwards.” She giggles. I love the way she calls me Officer Edwards. She will be calling me that in bed later tonight.

  “You have no idea my little honeybee. Now go get dressed,” I demand, feeling the blood rushing from my head down to my pants. It’s only a matter of time before my dick wins this fight. Zoe is the kind of girl that deserves romance and candle light. She deserves to be treated like a queen before I fuck her like a dirty little slut.

  Chapter Three

  Zoe

  I’m standing in front of the buffet at Whole Foods staring at the trays full of mac and cheese, fried rice, breaded fish, and chicken. None of which have ever entered my mouth, never. I hold my little brown box feeling completely flustered. When I was five, my mom decided I needed a hobby to help get me out of my shell. I was a shy kid who used to hide behind my mother’s hip whenever anyone would try to talk to me. After the art classes and swimming lessons were a bust, she put me in ballet classes at the community center, and it was just what I needed. Dancing up on that stage made me feel like a different person, one who wasn’t actually afraid of her own shadow. I could lose myself in the music and the choreography, letting the weight of my insecurities float away. Turns out I was really good. So good, in fact, that I got a scholarship to the Pacific Northwest Ballet Academy. A part of being a dancer with the PNWB is you are expected to stay a certain weight, which means missing out on pizza, ice cream, basically all things carb, sugar, and good tasting.

  I can feel Dylan watching me, he’s probably wondering why it's taking me so long to pick something to eat. “I don’t normally eat food like this.” My cheeks burn red. If he didn't think I was weird before, he does now.

  “What did you like to eat before you became a dancer?” he asks.

  “I’ve never actually eaten any junk food,” I reply shyly.

  “So wait, you’ve never had pizza or burgers? What about French fries? You've had to of had cake and ice cream when you were a kid.”

  I hide my face behind my empty food box. “Nope, I didn’t have any of it. I was very disciplined, even as a child. You must think I’m a freak.” You can’t even imagine how difficult it was as a nine-year-old at birthday parties to be eating carrots and celery while the other kids were stuffing their faces with cake and candy.

  “No, not at all. All I’m thinking is how I want to stuff you with cheeseburgers and desserts." He taps his index finger against his chin. "How about for tonight, calories don’t count, and you can eat whatever your heart desires.” He closes the space between us and bends down to my ear. “Besides, we will be working off all those calories later.” His lustful words make my pussy clench. “What do you want to eat?”

  Besides his cock? I want every fattening thing in this fucking store. I drop the container on the silver buffet. My first instinct is to go for the steamed vegetables, instead, I guide my hand over to the spoon resting in the tray of five cheese and bacon macaroni and cheese. I scoop up a huge spoonful and drop it in my box.

  “That’s my girl.” Dylan flashes me an approving smile.

  Next, I go for the pork samosas and spring rolls. If its deep fried and breaded it goes right into my box. Once my box is full, I bring it up to my nose and breathe in all the delicious smells. I place my box into the basket Dylan is holding, and then we walk over to the bakery. I figure if calories don’t count tonight then ordering one of every little fruit and pudding tart won’t hurt. Dylan just watches in proud amazement while I order a big slice of chocolate cake on top of all the other mouthwatering desserts I ordered. I plan on eating every last crumb of this cake off Dylan’s naked body when we get back to my apartment.

  *******

  “Oh my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” I moan, licking the bacon grease and cheese off my lips. After our stop at Whole Foods, Dylan took me to get bacon cheeseburgers from Red Mill Burger, and pizza from Hot Mama’s. I’ve been stuffing my face with all of it. I'm probably going to get sick from eating all this, but it will be so worth it.

  This is not how I saw our night going after the fiasco with my dress. I spent the afternoon with Nora trying on every dress at Nordstrom’s. I found a gorgeous teal lace dress that hit me just above my knee and hugged what little curves I do have perfectly. Most of my wardrobe consists of black tights, jeans, t-shirts, and converse. Not exactly date attire. Then that damn zipper got stuck and, when I tried to pull it loose, the lace ripped. It was a blessing in disguise because now I have Dylan in my apartment all to myself and have had some of the best food I have ever eaten.

  “Just wait until you try the pizza.” Dylan smiles, sliding the pizza box across the counter.

  I gaze longingly at the cheese and pepperoni goodness. My mouth already watering. “It smells and looks amazing,” I say, picking up a slice. The gooey mozzarella cheese strings dangle down from the crust. I take a small bite and let out an almost orgasmic moan. I officially love pizza.

  “Dylan, can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me anything,” he replies.

  “What made you want to be a cop?” I ask. Working around cops for the past year, I’ve heard a lot of interesting stories of how they became cops. Most were following in the footsteps of their fathers, others just wanted to keep the streets safe and serve their community. I’m fascinated to hear Dylan’s reasoning. My sister told me Dylan comes from money, his step father owns the biggest lumber yards in all of Washington. He could have easily taken over the family business and had a cushy desk job. Instead, he puts his life on the line every day to be a SWAT officer.

  “My dad and my brothers were my biggest motivation,” he replies.

  “Are they cops too?” I ask, taking another bite of my pizza.

  Dylan lets out a hardy laugh. “No, my dad and my brothers lived and died on the wrong side of the law. Back in Boston my life was completely different. I grew up in one of the roughest neighborhoods in Boston, Charlestown. I was surrounded by armored truck robbers, drug dealers, and gun runners. All three shared a roof with me. Our house was raided by the FBI at least three times a year, and my dad and brothers were constantly in and out of jail. By the time I was fifteen, my mom had had enough of the lies and abuse my father offered up, so one morning, while my dad and brothers were out pulling a job, she packed me up in her car, and we headed for Seattle where my aunt and uncle lived at the time. My mom lost three sons and her husband to the streets, she didn’t want to lose me too. I never really fit in with my family in Boston. I always knew what they were doing was wrong and especially hated how they treated my mom. I made a promise to myself when I was eight years old that I was going to be a cop when I grew up. I wanted to keep people like my dad off the streets.”

  I’m completely blown away by how forth coming Dylan is about his past. My ex, Elliot, had never talked about his life before meeting me. He didn’t even tell me if he still had parents living.

  “Thank you for telling me.” I feel even closer to him having heard this. Anyone in his shoes could have easily fallen victim to the streets, but Dylan used his father’s mistakes as ammunition to make his life better. He became a better man for it.

  “I want you to know everything about me, Zoe, even the dark parts.” He grabs my hand and pulls me off of my stool and into his lap. “There are no secrets with me, Zoe. I’m an open book. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but it’s a part of who I am. Loving me means loving all…the good, and the ugly. Do
you think you can do that?” His tone deepens. One hand slides around the back of my neck, while his other hand trails up my inner thigh, making the heat pool between my legs. All I can do is nod yes. I will take any piece of him I can get as long as he is mine.

  “You’re my girl, Zoe. I will never let you go,” he says, sealing our lips in a kiss, his tongue tracing along my lips, pleading for entrance. I part my lips letting him in. Our tongues dance in my mouth. He wants me and only me, and that has my whole body on fire. I need him now more than I need air.

  “Dylan, I need you,” I murmur. My hands glide up his crisp white shirt, feeling every firm sculpted muscle on his chest. One by one, I open each little white button, exposing more and more of his golden tanned skin. My lips move along his strong chiseled jaw and down his neck. A low moan escapes from deep in Dylan’s chest when my hands make contact with his bare skin. Sliding his shirt off, I dip my head down and place a gentle kiss on his chest just above his heart.

  “Take me to bed, Dylan.”

  He envelops me in his strong arms and stands to his feet, carrying me to my bedroom. Gently, he places me back on my feet at the foot of the bed. His hands grip the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, letting it drop to the floor next to my feet. A hand reaches behind my back and, with a quick flick of his wrist, the clasp is open, and the straps are sliding down my arms. He licks his lips hungrily at the sight of my bare breasts. My nipples are hard and ready for his mouth.