by Ruby Steele
He tosses out ten thousand on the next hand, a challenge in his smoldering gaze. We aren’t playing against each other—blackjack doesn’t work that way—but I can’t fight the urge to one-up him. Like I said, I can be a bit competitive. I like to be the best.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a warning bell sounds as I put ten thousand more on the table, adding to the grand I already had out. It’s my largest bet of the night—well, ever, but I can’t seem to make myself stop. Bet big, win big, right?
“Olivia,” Aiden says, reluctance in his voice. “Don’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
I hiccup, a little giggle escapes. Damn, I really am on my way to being sloshed. But I don’t really mind. At the moment all I want to do is show him just how capable I am. That I’m confident, cool, have it all under control. Because that’s so not me in my everyday life, and I like how he’s been looking at me. As if I’m not the nerdy whiz kid, the girl that has never had a serious boyfriend, the girl who is still a virgin.
That thought settles in, and I try to clear my fuzzy head, shaking it and giving him a smile. Yeah, I need to slow my roll if I plan on making it upstairs with him tonight.
“I know what I’m doing,” I say with a one-shouldered shrug, biting my lip so he knows I’m not just talking about cards.
He gives me a lopsided grin and shakes his head slightly. “So you’ve said.”
I quickly turn back to the game when I hear a collective groan, a blow of disappointment ratcheting through me as I lose the ridiculously large bet I just placed when the dealer gets blackjack. Dammit! I blow out my breath in a huff, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as the dealer pulls stacks of my chips to his side of the table. Yeah, time to lay of the vodka, Liv.
Sitting back in my seat, I press my lips together and play with my empty glass while I contemplate what to do next. It’s a huge blow, but I can’t feel completely disappointed because I still have way more than I started with.
Aiden hands me a water bottle. “Drink this.”
I feel like I should be embarrassed by the fact that I’ve obviously had too much to drink, but he’s so sweet about it that I’m not.
With a hand on my lower back, he leans in again and gives me a mischievous look. “Want to make this game a little more interesting?”
I immediately forget that I just lost half of my winnings. All I can do is nod along as his gaze burns through me, turning that slow simmer to a boil. Right now, I’d do just about anything this man asked, that’s how badly I want him.
It’s irrational. Crazy. I don’t even know him. But my body doesn’t care. All I really know at this moment is that something draws me to him, captivates me. Totally beyond reason. But that seems to be the theme of this trip. I haven’t made many rational decisions since driving off campus with Becca. Oh no, Becca!
“Hang on just a second,” I say, fumbling in my purse for my phone. I haven’t communicated with her in hours. When I light up the screen, I see a string of texts from her telling me she’s found someone for me and asking where I am. After a bit, she apparently gave up on me because the texts stopped over an hour ago.
I tap out a quick response. Sorry. Found my guy. Wish me luck.
Her reply is succinct, words completely unnecessary to convey her meaning. A thumbs up emoji, a winky face, and an eggplant. I roll my eyes, but can’t help laughing. Whoever initially started using a cartoon eggplant as a visual dick euphemism was either a genius or one hell of a horny bastard. Probably both.
I glance up at Aiden and find him watching me, an eyebrow quirked up.
Stashing my phone back in my purse and hoping he didn’t just see what I wrote, I shrug casually. “My friend. She was wondering about where I was.”
“Hmm. Sounds like a good friend. The kind who might worry if you didn’t make it back to your room tonight.” One corner of his mouth curves up slightly.
There it is again. A comment that might mean more, but maybe not. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the mounting pressure between my legs that’s drawing all the blood from my brain, but my next words pop out of my mouth as if I have no filter.
“She knows I’m not going back to our room tonight.”
The statement hangs in the air between us for a minute. I lick my lips, suddenly feeling the nerves that I’ve managed to escape all night make a reappearance. What if I’ve read him all wrong? What if he’s just a flirt? What if he doesn’t want me nearly as badly as I want him?
I have no idea what he’s thinking until he says, “About what I was saying—making things more interesting?”
“Yeah?” I nod again, hanging on his every word. We’ve completely forgotten the game at hand, and the other players have moved on to the next hand without us.
“What if we play for something a bit less…monetary.” He gives me an enigmatic smile.
“I’m game. What do you have in mind?” My pulse is pounding wildly, the blood roaring in my ears.
“One game. You and me. Winner takes all. Set your own stakes.”
Here’s my chance. The one I’ve been waiting for. I can put it all out there and claim this night as a victory. Or he could laugh in my face. I study him intensely. It’s never gone well when I announce my status as the not-so-proud owner of a pesky v-card. What if he changes his mind? He exudes sexuality, and maybe my inexperience is a huge turn-off.
“Deal,” I say, ready to put it all out there. “I can bet anything at all?”
He nods, a predatory gleam coming into his eyes.
“Okay. Let me think. This has to be good.” I purse my lips as if I don’t already know what I’m going to say. The words my virginity are on the tip of my tongue, but at the last minute I chicken out, blurting out the first thing I can think of. “If I win, you take me to the fanciest restaurant in town.”
I wince. Seriously? I could have said anything at all, and I ask for dinner. I want to put all my quantum physics research to the test and attempt time travel. Just thirty seconds back in time. That’s not too much to ask, right? Too bad it’s just a theory.
He laughs again. “Okay. If you win, dinner it is.”
“What about if you win?”
Watching me closely, his face turns serious. “Breakfast tomorrow.”
I start to nod, trying to ignore the flood of disappointment. There went my one chance, and I blew it, royally. Meals. That’s what we’re betting. Woohoo, living large.
But I freeze when Aiden reaches for a lock of my hair and twirls it around his finger.
“After you spend the rest of tonight in my bed.”
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Also by Ruby Steele
Teacher’s Bet
About the Author
Ruby loves coffee, kitties, and hot bad boys and lives in Washington State.
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