Played By The Master

by Opal Carew

  Or it seemed now, a high stakes poker game with a billionaire playboy.

  He placed the dress on the table and sat down. He didn’t leer, or even obviously peruse her body, which she had to admit was classy on his part.

  But her skin prickled with awareness of his closeness and masculinity. And she knew that even though he wasn’t being obvious, he was taking in every inch of her almost naked body.

  She had to face it, if the man offered to bed her to give her what she wanted, she’d probably drop her panties right now.

  She sat down as he dealt out the cards again and she picked up hers. Her hand was a mish mash… one king and the rest non-face cards. She kept the king and a ten, both spades, hoping for a flush, or at least another king.

  “How many cards?” he asked.

  “I’ll take three.”

  He dealt her the three cards and she peered at them. There was no king, but she did get a pair of twos and another ten. That was two pair.

  She schooled her features not to give anything away and glanced across the table at him.

  “I’ll hold,” he said.

  Usually, they would bet now, but the current wager was her dress against him allowing her to talk to him.

  “So I reveal now?” she asked.

  “You mean more than you already have?” His eyebrow arched as his gaze fell on her breasts.

  “I mean my cards.”

  “No, we’re not finished betting.”

  “I thought the dress…”

  “Allowed you into the hand, yes. But now I’m going to raise.”

  “But I don’t have any money. You expect me to fold?”

  He shrugged. “If you want. But I think you’re quite happy with your hand and would be willing to put more on the table, so to speak.”

  “I’m not taking off my bra,” she said, eyes flashing. His lips turned up on the sides in a grin. “Or anything else.”

  He nodded. “All right. Then I have a suggestion.”

  She pursed her lips as she took in his handsome face, his intelligent gaze considering her.

  “And what is that?”

  “If I win, you let me touch you.”

  “Touch me?” Thoughts of his big hands cupping her breasts. Gently squeezing, then his fingers finding her aching nipples and stroking, then pinching them between his fingertips, took her breath away.

  She’d like that. In fact, she’d like nothing more than to strip away her lingerie and lie back on the table to let him take her.

  Except to have that talk with him. And walk away with some shred of dignity.

  “We said no sex.”

  “I’m not talking sex. Just touching.”

  “Why would I let you do that?”

  “I’ll touch only bare skin. And let me make it more interesting.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  “If you win, then we talk, just as you wanted.”

  “That was already the deal.”

  “But what if I promise at least one counter proposal.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You want to talk to me. Which means you want something from me. I don’t know what it is, but the answer will likely be no.”

  Her heart compressed at the word but he was right. This whole thing was a long shot, but it was the only shot she had.

  “I’m suggesting that when you make whatever request you will be making, that I won’t just say no. I will try to find a counter proposal that will work for us.”

  She pursed her lips. She didn’t know what the counter proposal would be to putting her brother-in-law in jail. Maybe lowering the charges? Forgiving the debt? Maybe promising him a job once his sentence was done?

  She had no idea, but Mr. Danner being open to more than just saying no was definitely a good thing.

  Especially since she was sure he was bluffing. Or, at least, didn’t have a hand that could beat two pair.

  “All right.”

  He smiled, and at the predatory look in his eyes, she realized he was going to win. The blood drained from her face as he flipped over his cards… revealing a full house.

  Oh, God, she’d lost her opportunity to try and convince him to help Ella and her husband.

  “Come over here.” His silken voice curled through her and she stood up.

  Now he would touch her… probably cup her ass with his big hand. Maybe, if she seemed willing…who was she kidding, she was willing… to succumb to his touch, then maybe he would listen to her after all.

  Shock vaulted through her at her own illicit thoughts. She wasn’t going to sleep with him to help Ella.

  No, just strip down to practically nothing. Then let him touch her.

  Did she really know where her boundaries were?

  He watched as she walked around the long table, then approached him, his gaze locked on the swell of her breasts above the lace cups. Her nipples puckered at the thought of him stroking her there.

  He pushed his chair back from the table and turned sideways as she continued toward him. His intense male gaze sent heat shimmering through her.

  Finally, she stood facing him.

  “Let your hair down.”

  It had nothing to do with the deal they’d struck, but she reached behind her head and opened the clip, letting her long hair spill down over her shoulders.

  He lifted his hand, and as it approached her, she calmed her breathing, readying herself for his touch. It would only be a moment.

  But she wasn’t prepared for the spark of desire that flared through her when his fingertips brushed against her arm, just above her elbow. Then his fingers moved. Upward. Trailing lightly over her skin, then stroked her hair back over her shoulder. She drew in a slow breath as he glided downward again, over the soft exposed skin of her breast, right to the lace of her bra. His fingertip grazed lightly under the scalloped edges, but not breaching the barrier of the satin cup.

  Clearly, he liked to push boundaries.

  And she was close to pulling back that boundary, by tugging the cup forward and inviting him to explore further. The thought of his big fingers gliding over her hard nipple sent her pulse fluttering.

  Her own potent reaction to him startled her and she stepped back.

  “I… uh… we’re done now.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

  “You said a touch,” she stammered.

  “And you didn’t say how long. I’m not finished.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Come here,” he said, his authoritative tone brooking no argument.

  She stepped close again, shocking herself at her own submissiveness.

  “So I just have to stand here for as long as you want to touch me?”

  He gazed at her, his blue eyes twinkling. “Yes.”

  His fingers brushed her ribs this time, below her breast, then glided slowly downward, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. She tried to ignore the heady sensations fluttering through her.

  “But you could go on for hours.”

  He grinned. “Yes.”

  Oh, God, if he did this for even a few more minutes, she’d be a puddle on the ground.

  Tingles danced through her at his touch. Past her waist, around to her back. Blazing a trail of hot embers over the side of her butt. But he didn’t cup her like she thought he would.

  Like she wanted.

  Just swirled over her round butt, then back to her hip. His finger slipped under the thin strip of her thong, and followed it forward. Gliding along the fabric toward her belly. Then suddenly dipped under the triangle of fabric covering her intimate flesh.

  She gasped at the feel of his fingertip lightly brushing her hidden flesh.

  But he didn’t push down as far as her intimate folds. If he had, he would have felt the wetness there, proof of how much his touch was turning her on. And how much she wanted more from him.

  She stepped back. “That’s enough.”

  His gazed l
ocked on hers and she fully expected him to protest. Would he command her to be still and allow him to continue? Because if he did, she knew in her heart she would comply.

  But that was absurd. It’s not like he had some hold over her. Like he could just command her and she would do whatever he said.

  What had a hold on her was her desire to please him. To see a glint of approval in his eyes.

  If he commanded her to strip totally naked right now, she’d do it in a heart beat.

  And it was that realization that made her turn and head toward the door. She had to leave. Now.

  “You’re not going out like that.” His question was more of a statement.

  Goose bumps danced over her nearly naked body. No, she couldn’t go out like this.

  “I’d offer you the hotel robe, but I’m sure the management would frown on your marching across the lobby and out the front door in it.”

  * * *

  Race watched as she twirled toward him, her long, dark hair swirling around her shoulders.

  Yes, it was so much better down.

  “May I have my dress back?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes blazed, and her labored breathing made her round breasts rise and fall delightfully. He would love to command her to take off that bra right now and reveal her full breasts, and hard, needy nipples. But he’d agreed to no sex and, God help him, if she dropped that bra, he wasn’t sure he could keep that promise.

  She sucked in deep breaths, her hands clenched in fists at her side, and as much as he loved watching her breasts heave up and down, he took pity on her.

  “I might be persuaded to loan it to you.”

  Her jaw clenched. “And what do I need to do to persuade you?”

  He was tempted to come up with something fun. He’d touched her, so maybe suggesting she touch him. Anywhere she wanted. That could prove interesting, since she was so clearly turned on by what they’d done so far.

  Even if she just touched the tip of his ear, or stroked over his shoulder, sparks would flare between them and…

  Fuck, his swelling cock was stealing the blood-flow from his brain. He intended to stick with his promise of no sex tonight. There was no point in making it harder.

  Making him harder.

  “Just agree to return it,” he said.

  The rebellious look in her lovely, sky-blue eyes faded. “Really?”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out one of the special poker chips. Not the black and red one she’d shown up with, but one of the all black ones with his logo in metallic gold. A token he gave to only a favored few.

  He held it out to her and, hesitantly, she stepped toward him again and took it.

  “Bring the dress back here tomorrow and show that to the concierge.”

  She gazed at it, then at him. “Thank you.”

  Whether or not she brought back the dress was unimportant. It had been all about the challenge.

  He picked it up and handed it to her. She took it, then held it by the shoulders. The black fabric, shapeless without her beautiful body giving it form, hung from her hands. Her gaze flickered to his and she seemed to actually hope he’d turn around.

  He had to stifle a laugh. After seeing her practically naked, and even feeling the softness just below her panty line, she was actually embarrassed to have him watch her put the dress on.

  She compressed her lips, then lowered the dress and stepped into it.

  He watched as the slinky fabric glided up her long legs, then over her hips. She slid her hand into one short sleeve and drew it over her shoulder, then the other.

  “Here, I’ll zip you up.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He stepped behind her, ignoring her mild protest, and found the zipper tag, then glided it upward. Watching the opening of the dress close. And with it, his view of her lovely, creamy skin.

  As soon as it reached the top, she stepped away.

  She turned and stuck out her hand.

  “Thank you, Mr. Danner.”

  Was she kidding?

  He gazed at her hand, then enveloped it in his own.

  “Your welcome, Ms. Bell.”

  Then she hurried to the elevator. Once inside, she turned and stared at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty as the elevator doors closed.

  He chuckled. She’ll be back.

  * * *

  Jacquie walked into the hotel lobby, the dress neatly folded in a box she carried under her arm. Taped closed, so it wouldn’t accidentally come open in the hands of the hotel staff. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d shed her dress for Mr. Danner last night.

  Not that they would from her bringing him a dress today, but who knew? Maybe this was a regular occurrence with him.

  Embarrassment still tugged at her. How had she let herself get into that position? And it hadn’t even gotten her the opportunity to plead her brother-in-law’s case with him.

  She still couldn’t understand how Jon, who was an accountant at Danner Industries—or, at least, had been—could have been so careless. Letting his so-called friend use his laptop. The guy had found Jon’s security access codes and used them to transfer money from one of the business accounts. There was no way to prove it, and the theft was traced back to Jon’s account, so now Jon was up on charges.

  She walked to the concierge desk and a tall, uniformed man smiled.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  “Uh… yes, thank you.” She pulled the black and gold poker chip from her purse. Looking at it she wondered, just as she had last night, if it was inlaid with real gold. “I’m supposed to show you this,” she said holding up the chip, “and give you this to return to Mr. Danner in…” She hesitated. She’d almost said 2403, then realized she didn’t know the number of the room he’d taken her to after they’d left the poker game.

  “Yes, miss. The penthouse. He’s waiting for you.” He handed her a keycard. “Go to the first elevator and swipe this in the special slot on the panel. The elevator will take you straight there.”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.” She placed the flat box on the desk. “I’m just returning this.” She started to step back, then glanced at the poker chip hesitantly. Should she return that, too?

  The phone on the concierge’s desk rang and he glanced down, then picked it up.

  “Yes, sir. She’s here.” The man glanced at her. “Yes, of course, sir.” He offered her the phone. “It’s for you.”

  She frowned, but took it reluctantly. “Hello?”

  “Miss Bell,” Mr. Danner said on the other end. “Good evening.”

  “Uh… hi.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to turn down my invitation to come up after I so graciously allowed you to borrow the dress.”

  “I don’t need to come up. I can leave it right here.”

  “But isn’t it your responsibility to return it to me, rather than leaving it in someone else’s hands?”

  She squeezed the poker chip in her palm. “Why do you care if I just leave it?”

  “Because I’d like to see you again.”

  The silky, smoothness of his deep voice curled through her, triggering a heat that had barely lowered to simmer since last night. She had thought of him all night long. Had dreamed of him pressing her down on the bed and his muscular body covering hers, then him taking her with confidence. Slowly, and with an authority that made her body sing.

  She’d woken up sweaty and wanting.

  God, he wanted to see her again. And she wanted to see him.

  All of him. His hard masculine body totally naked.

  What would it be like with a man like him? Dominating and powerful?

  His big cock driving into her. Intense desire swamped her senses.

  “Are you coming, Miss Bell?”

  She started at his voice in her ear.

  “I… uh… okay.”

  She handed the phone to the concierge and picked up the keycard from the glossy desk, then turned and s
tarted to walk toward the elevators.

  About halfway there, she realized the concierge had hurried to catch up to her. When she glanced over her shoulder, she realized he was carrying the box with her dress in it. Damn it, she’d left it on the desk.

  When they arrived at the elevators, a staff member was holding the door for her. The concierge handed her the box and smiled as he pulled out a keycard of his own and swiped it.

  “There you go, miss. It’ll take you straight into the penthouse.”

  She nodded her thanks. The man must think she was an idiot.

  Or maybe he was used to moony-eyed women going all gaga where Mr. Danner was concerned.

  She tried to calm herself as the elevator counted off the floors on her way up to his suite, where he waited for her.

  Her hand tightened around the poker chip, very aware of the edges pressing into her flesh.

  She’d actually slept with it under her pillow last night. Dreaming of romantic escapades with a wealthy, handsome stranger.

  Actually, more like erotic, throw-me-down-and-fuck-me-hard-and-fast dreams.

  She sucked in a breath, her arm rigid around the dress box.

  The doors whooshed open and she stepped out, glancing around the elegant penthouse. The cream-colored carpets were set aflame from the blazing light of the sunset outside the window.

  “Miss Bell. Nice to see you again.”

  She glanced at Mr. Danner standing on the other side of the sizable room, wearing a dark gray suit and dark teal tie. His gaze took in her simple, fitted dress. Floral, with a longer hemline than what she’d worn last night. It wasn’t revealing or sexy like last night’s attire, but the cut of the dress did show off her figure to her advantage.

  She hadn’t thought she’d be seeing him again, but she’d still carefully considered what she wore. Not wanting to give off the sexy vibe she had last night, but she still wanted to look attractive.

  Now he was appreciatively taking in her appearance.

  “You look very nice. That dress suits you.”

  “Thank you. I don’t intend to lose this one to you.”

  He chuckled. “All right. If we wager anything tonight, it won’t be the dress.”

  “I’m not here to play poker.”