Troublemaker: Rascals: Book Five

by McCoy, Katie

  “Come on,” I told him. “I can take it. Show me what you’ve got.”

  His eyes got darker. More intense.

  “OK,” he said. “Get in the ring.”

  I climbed in. He followed and faced me.

  “I’m going to try to grab you,” he said. “You need to get away.”

  Did I, though? The thought of Dante grabbing me—of him chasing me—gave me such a thrill that I considered not fighting him at all. But then my innate competitive nature got the best of me and the minute he lunged for me, I side-stepped out of his grasp.

  “Good,” he said.

  Then he showed me some blocking moves, ways to chop a grabbing motion, or duck down to break a hold, before it could get a grip.

  Except he was barely touching me to demonstrate.

  “Come on,” I told him, my hands on my hips. “I know you can do it better than that.”

  “I don’t wat to hurt you,” he responded.

  “I won’t let you,” I countered.

  He stood there, forehead furrowed, as if he was thinking hard, weighing his options. Finally he gave me a shrug.

  “Fine,” he said. “But you tell me if it’s too much.”

  I shivered with anticipation. “OK,” I said, eager to see what he would do next.

  Without warning, he lunged towards me. Dante’s arms came around me and I found my back pinned against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, forcing my arms to my side.

  “That’s what happens when you get cocky,” he said, his voice hot in my ear.

  I squirmed against him and he immediately let go of me.

  “Try again,” he said, sounding a little hoarse.

  I wanted more. I wanted to push him to his limit. Wanted to make him confront the sizzling chemistry between us. So the next time he turned to grab me, I spun on my heels and charged right towards him. Locking my arms around his waist, I threw my entire body into his, bringing us both down on the mat. Hard.

  For a moment, I lost my breath, the wind knocked out of me on impact. But then I lost my breath again because I realized that I was lying on my back, with Dante on top of me. Our legs were tangled together and my arms were still holding him.

  But he hadn’t pulled away. Hadn’t gotten up. Hadn’t even rolled off of me.

  And I was glad.

  I lifted my head, and found him staring down at me. He looked in my eyes, and then his gaze darted down to my mouth. I licked my lips and he groaned. I had him.

  “Dante,” I whispered, my mouth so close to his.

  Unfortunately, my voice seemed to break whatever spell he had been under and he immediately extracted himself and got to his feet. He extended a hand to help me up, but released me the moment I was upright again.

  “I have to go,” he said, avoiding eye contact again.

  “Where?” I demanded.

  “I have something to do.” He was being purposefully evasive.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you hosting another poker game?” I made a wild guess.

  His jaw flinched. Busted.

  “Let me help you,” I said, not ready to give up on this whole thing.

  “No,” he responded immediately. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not?” I wanted to know. “You know I’d be a huge asset. After all, the people who come to your games are the people I know like the back of my hand. And I especially know how to get money out of them.”

  “This isn’t a charity fundraiser, princess,” Dante told me.

  “I know,” I shot back. “It’s an illegal poker game.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “The last place someone like you should be.”

  “You need me,” I said.

  He didn’t have a response to that.

  “Why do you want to help?” he asked instead.

  “Because it’s for a good cause,” I told him honestly. “That gym is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

  I watched him searching for another excuse why I shouldn’t be involved. But he couldn’t find one.

  “It’s like Emerson said,” I said with a smile. “When I want something, there’s no stopping me.”

  11

  Hayley

  I spent a lot of time getting ready for the poker game. More than I usually did, even for all the fancy events and soirees I attended on the regular. This was different. Because I wanted to look amazing. More than amazing, I wanted to look stunning. Sexy. Irresistible. I wanted Dante to be brought to his knees by how gorgeous I looked. And if he decided to do some other stuff while he was down there on his knees, well, I wouldn’t have a problem with that either.

  The dress was black but it wasn’t like any black dress I’d worn before. It was cut low in the back. And the front. It showed a lot of my curves. And it had a slit that went way, way, way up. So way up that if I crossed my legs wrong I’d be giving everyone at the game a little Sharon Stone action. Except I was wearing a lace black thong and I wasn’t a murderess. Not yet at least. If this dress didn’t force Dante to confront the very sexy thing that was happening between us, then there was a very good chance I was going to kill him.

  I put on my brightest red lipstick and somehow managed the perfect winged eyeliner. Complete with a pair of sparkly gold stilettos, I looked like a girl who knew how to have a good time. I didn’t look like a society princess or someone’s little sister. I looked like a woman. A woman who desperately wanted a man.

  Feeling sexy and confident and ready, I headed to the hotel.

  When I got there, I headed up to the penthouse suite, feeling an exciting version of déjà vu. Because the last time we’d been in this room together, Dante had kissed me for the first time. And what a kiss. It had changed everything. But I wanted things to change even more. And I was prepared to make it happen.

  The room was already busy with staff setting up when I arrived, and Dante had his back towards me. It gave me a chance to admire him. He was wearing his expensive suit again, and while I could appreciate the way it perfectly fit his broad shoulders, this version of Dante paled in comparison to sweaty Dante in his gym clothes. That was my favorite version of him.

  He straightened and turned to see me. I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.

  Which never came.

  He glanced over at me, and then away.

  “You’re late,” he said gruffly.

  Disappointed filled me. That was it? I had spent hours getting ready and I barely got a second glance?

  I wanted to throw something at his big, dumb, hard head.

  Instead, I focused on something else. On something I was good at. Playing the hostess. I wasn’t going to let Dante see that I was hurt or disappointed. I wasn’t going to let him get to me. I was here to help him with the game, to help him save the gym. I’d deal with his idiocy later.

  I went to the bar first, arranging the alcohol with only a bottle or two of the good stuff on top, and keeping the cheaper stuff easily accessible for when the players would get too drunk to notice that the quality of their whiskey was slightly less than stellar. Then, I called down to the front desk and in my nicest socialite voice, ordered a few cheese plates and a variety of fancy snacks from the restaurant in the lobby. The bowls of pretzels and chips that Dante had set out just wouldn’t do.

  I chatted briefly with some of the servers that Dante had hired, making sure that they knew the food was being delivered and that they should come to me if there were any problems, leaving Dante to focus on the game. I was going to wine and dine these guests so well that they wouldn’t even mind dropping a few thousand dollars by the end of the evening. I didn’t feel bad that we were going to take their money. After all, as Mike had pointed out when he played, it was all just a night of fun and excitement for them, a crazy story to tell all their friends.

  Dante continued to not notice me, getting the table set up for the game. I did one last check in the mirror to make sure my lipstick was still flawless and then put my best hostess face on as the first gu
ests were led into the suite.

  “Welcome,” I said, as three young men entered. I flashed a smile. “Can I take your coats?”

  “You can take whatever you want, sweetheart,” one of them—a frat boy who couldn’t have been older than twenty-two—said with a grin.

  “Don’t tempt me,” I teased back, giving him a wink.

  “I think I’m in love,” he said to his friends.

  Mentally rolling my eyes, I led him to the table where Dante was shuffling cards.

  “Can I get you boys anything?” I asked. “We’ve got a stocked bar.”

  “I bet you do,” one of his friends gave me a long lingering look.

  An appreciative look. Exactly the kind of look that I wished Dante had given me when I walked in. Instead, I was getting mentally undressed by a boy who probably didn’t have any hair on his chest, and Dante didn’t even have the good sense to look jealous.

  I wanted to scream.

  Instead, I put my hostess smile back on and headed back to where players were beginning to arrive. I had drinks to serve and guests to entice.

  Seduction would just have to wait.

  A few hours in, the poker game was in full swing. People had stopped arriving, so I had time to go back and watch the game myself. Which, if I was being honest, meant watching Dante in action.

  Like he had been at the last poker game, he was completely and utterly in control. And it was fucking hot as hell. He had taken his jacket off and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, revealing strong, muscled forearms. I mean, there probably wasn’t a single part of Dante’s body that wasn’t muscular and ripped. The man practically lived at the gym—but in the hot, I’m-teaching-kids-how-to-protect-themselves way, not the unemployed gym-rat type that I’d seen on Tinder during my brief attempt at digital dating.

  None of those guys had made my pulse race the way it did when I was near Dante. Even standing at the other end of a crowded room, I still felt the pull of attraction between the two of us. Dante was doing his best to ignore me, but whenever he looked up from the table he was always able to find me immediately. He was aware of me, even if he was doing everything in his power to keep from revealing that.

  Part of me wanted to toy with him. To sidle up next to him, brush up against him, and maybe lean down over the table so he could look down my dress. Because I was definitely not wearing a bra.

  But I also knew that as the dealer, he needed to be focused on the game. And as much as I wanted to mess with him, I also wanted him to make enough money so he could buy the gym. That was the priority. I could tempt him later. And that was exactly what I planned on doing.

  We were a few hours in when a tall, rangy guy showed up. He stood out like a sore thumb—everyone else was dressed up, wearing suits and dresses, while he was in a pair of jeans and a shirt that looked like it had seen better days. The guy himself looked like he was just coming off a long bender, with circles under his eyes and a gaunt look in his face.

  Yet he knew Dante. That much was obvious from the look that passed between them when this guy entered. Dante’s entire body tensed, his jaw muscle twitching.

  “We’ll take a five-minute break,” he said, abruptly getting up.

  The table let out a groan, one guy slapping his cards down in annoyance.

  Shit. This wasn’t good.

  I quickly made the rounds, placating the guests by offering them more booze and snacks. I even made a show of popping a bottle of champagne and letting it spill on my cleavage a little. With a laugh, I took one of the dozens of napkins that were offered by the male players, and dabbed at my chest.

  “I’m just so clumsy,” I joked, keeping an eye on Dante and the newcomer.

  They were standing off to the side of the room, almost out of sight, but I could see that they were arguing. Dante was barely moving, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the ground, while the other guy gestured wildly, his eyes wide.

  I inched my way towards them, keeping one eye on them and another on the guests, who were all about to finish their champagne. Dante had to get back to that table, and soon, or he was going to lose some deep-pocketed players. I didn’t know what his current haul was at the moment, but from what I understood, he couldn’t afford to lose any potential earnings.

  “We’ll talk another time,” I heard Dante say, his voice low and firm.

  “I want to talk now,” the guy said, his tone urgent and aggressive.

  “Later,” Dante repeated.

  “Fuck you,” his companion said.

  That’s when I saw one of the bigger players get up from the table.

  No, no, no.

  I put on my biggest smile and approached Dante.

  “You’re needed back at the table,” I said pointedly, before putting my arm through the other man’s. “I’ll take care of your friend.” I gave him a big, bright smile.

  The guy immediately looked down my dress and some of the tension eased out of him.

  Well. At least someone was paying attention to my boobs.

  I mean, yes, the guy was kind of skeezy and he didn’t smell especially clean, but it was diffusing the situation in a way that Dante couldn’t.

  “That’s not a good idea,” Dante tried, but I immediately stopped him.

  “The players are restless,” I pointed out, still keeping a smile fixed to my face.

  He looked over my shoulder and let out a soft curse under his breath.

  “Go home, Nicky,” he said to the man who was now practically clinging to me.

  Then he pushed past both of us and headed back to the table.

  “Who’s ready to play?” I heard him ask and, everyone got back to the game.

  Good. One problem solved. Now, how to get rid of Nicky, whoever he was.

  “Can I get you something?” I asked, smiling up at him. “Nicky, was it?”

  “Yeah,” he said, watching Dante over my shoulder before turning his attention back to me. “How’d a pretty girl like you get tangled up in a mess like my brother?”

  My eyebrows rose. “Your brother?”

  I didn’t know that Dante had a brother. They didn’t look anything alike.

  Nicky shrugged. “Foster brother,” he said.

  “Ah.” That made more sense. “We’re old friends,” I said as an answer to his question.

  “Yeah?” He gave me an appreciative look. “How friendly?”

  I laughed and gave him a gentle push on his arm. “That’s rather forward,” I said coquettishly.

  “I’m a forward kind of guy,” he said, giving me a suggestive look.

  “I bet you are,” I smiled back, knowing that the longer I could distract him, the better.

  Of course, getting him to leave would be even better. I wracked my brain for a way to get him to leave of his own accord. Because by the looks he and Dante had exchanged, I had a feeling it would be best to remove Nicky as soon as possible. I really didn’t want Dante distracted, and I didn’t want the game to have any more interruptions.

  “You don’t seem like Dante’s usual type,” Nicky commented.

  “Oh?” I played along, interested in what Nicky knew about Dante. “And what’s his usual type?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “You know, I’m not really sure. I guess just being here is the unusual part. He never lets anyone meet his girls.”

  Dammit. Looked like Dante was secretive to literally everyone in his life. Especially about his love life.

  “Me, on the other hand.” Nicky gave my waist a squeeze. “I have a type. And you are it.”

  I pulled away gently. “You are too sweet,” I said lightly. “But I’m working . . .”

  “I’m sure the boss man won’t mind if we slip away for a little bit,” Nicky offered.

  Ugh. No. That wasn’t going to happen in a million years. I wanted to get him away from the game, but I had limits.

  “I wish,” I said, pouring it on thick. “But boss man’s got eyes all over the place.” My plan to get rid of N
icky came together quickly in my mind. I leaned a little closer to him, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You see that guy over there?” I pointed to one of the frat bros that had arrived early. “He’s a cop friend of Dante’s, and he’s supposed to keep an eye on all of Dante’s employees. Wants to make sure none of us are skimming off the top.”

  I felt Nicky tense immediately.

  Bingo. From the look of him, I had figured that Nicky wasn’t exactly on the up and up. Pretending that the room was full of cops would probably make him nervous enough that he’d leave on his own. And, if he was dumb enough to believe that Dante would invite the police to an illegal poker game, then he deserved to be chased out.

  “A cop?” Nicky asked, and for a moment I was worried that I had underestimated his intelligence.

  “Oh, he’s a great guy,” I said breezily. “I think him and Dante go way back.”

  “Really,” Nicky commented, his voice flat.

  “And his friend works in the DA’s office, I think,” I kept going, still not sure if he was buying it. “They’re both old friends of Dante’s.”

  “Funny how Dante never mentioned that he had friends in such high up places,” Nicky said dryly.

  “He doesn’t like to brag about his connections,” I commented. “But I’d be happy to introduce you, if you’d like.”

  I started towing him towards the table, praying that my bluff had worked. It did.

  Nicky immediately pulled away.

  “Wish I could meet your friends, doll,” he said, straightening the collar of his shirt. “But I’ve got places to go. People to see. You understand.”

  “Of course,” I said, forcing a fake pout onto my face.

  “Don’t worry.” He brushed a finger down my cheek. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  I did my best not to flinch at his touch. He gave me the creeps.

  “Yeah.” Nicky gave me a long lingering look. “I’ll definitely see you around.”

  Then he was gone.

  The rest of the evening was uneventful. There were no more interruptions and the games continued for several more hours. By the time it was over, it seemed that Dante had done very well for himself—at least, judging by the pile of cash and expensive watches that had been piling up in front of him all night.