by Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Angel Payne, Sierra Cartwright, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue
“Just a simple kiss.”
“Now?”
He leaned in close, his lips dangerously close to hers. She closed her eyes in anticipation, until he whispered, “No, Miss Allen, after the game is over.”
She opened her eyes and pouted. “You are a wicked man, Brad Anderson.”
Several consecutive wins had him on even ground again, and it was with great joy that he watched Shey’s face when Wesley won the next hand.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered, looking bereft as she contemplated which piece of clothing to take off.
“Your panties would work in a pinch,” Brad suggested with a naughty grin. “Allows you to keep your dignity while still honoring the bet.”
She nodded, accepting his recommendation. Shey turned away as she carefully removed her underwear without exposing herself. She placed the sexy thong on top of her pile and looked at him expectantly.
Brad shook his head. Knowing that Shey was bare under that dress was hot. He undid his belt and slipped it through the belt loops, taking his time as he rolled it up before dropping it on the table.
He smiled in satisfaction at the sexy clank the buckle made as it landed. “One more hand, Miss Allen?”
Shey’s breath increased as she weighed the risks. “Yes, one more.”
After looking at their final cards, each of them wrote down a last request. Shey sighed nervously as she placed hers in the middle. Brad noticed that her eyes didn’t leave it, even when the dealer laid out the other three cards. Whatever she’d requested had her anxious, and that was exciting to him.
Brad stared at the three cards, shocked to see he had a royal flush. He should have been thrilled, but he was far more interested in Shey’s request than in winning the hand. “I call.”
Shey laid down a pair of threes and looked at him hopefully.
“Damn…you got me beat.” Brad tossed his cards to the dealer in mock disgust without revealing them to her.
Shey’s hand visibly shook as she handed him her final bet. “Don’t read it just yet,” she begged.
Brad was willing, but added a stipulation as he held the unopened request up, “Fine. I’ll refrain from reading this only if you agree to walk out just as you are.”
Her eyes darted to Wesley, who nodded. She looked down at her bare feet, the only part of her body that was exposed, and shrugged. “Deal.”
Brad tucked her last bet in his pocket while Wesley quickly gathered up their clothing. Mr. Tate stood before Brad, his eyes transfixed on Brad’s bare chest. “I’d be honored to escort you to your room, Mr. Anderson.”
“Much appreciated.”
Brad turned to the dealer and handed him a tip. “Thank you for your help tonight.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
Brad walked out of the room proudly, baring his muscular chest to the world with a beautiful, elegantly dressed—and barefoot—redhead wrapped on his arm.
Play in the casino stopped for a moment as the two walked through the main floor in their various states of undress. He took pride in the fact that the men were openly gawking at Shey, their facial expressions communicating their admiration of her striking looks.
Wesley guided them to the private staff elevator. It wasn’t until the doors finally closed that Shey giggled in relief. “God only knows what they’re thinking about us.”
“They’re thinking I’m one hell of a lucky guy,” Brad stated.
Shey snorted daintily. “No, the women were definitely thinking, ‘Who the hell is that hunk of a man and how do I tap me some of that?’”
Brad’s booming laughter filled the elevator. “Trust me, Shey, all eyes were on you.”
Wesley’s eyes returned to Brad’s chest for a moment, before he glanced away.
“Exactly,” Shey stated in triumph. “Even Mr. Tate agrees.”
Brad turned to Shey and casually rubbed his hand over his pecs, watching with amusement how her eyes widened while they followed it as if in a trance. When the doors opened, she started, the spell suddenly broken.
Wesley held the elevator as the two exited and followed them, but Shey stopped abruptly.
“Brad, I’m not sure…”
She looked like she was about to bolt, so he placed his hand on her arm to assure her. “Not sure of what?”
“If I’m ready for this.”
“Miss Allen, every request will be honored to your complete satisfaction. I am a gentleman, after all.”
She let out a nervous sigh. “Every one?”
That final, unknown bet of Shey’s burned like fire in his pocket and had him totally distracted. Brad fiddled with it, wondering what the hell she’d asked of him that had her so on edge.
He leaned forward and whispered so only she could hear. “First, I’d like to show you my little orange pussy, Miss Allen.”
Shey looked stunned. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Brad put his finger to his lips. “Shh…it’s our little secret.”
She tsked, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she glanced in Wesley’s direction. “Well, Mr. Anderson, I would definitely like to see that.”
“Then you shall…”
Wesley tried to hide his smile, chuckling to himself as he handed Mr. Anderson their clothes. “A night at the Nyte is never boring.”
“Thank you for your assistance tonight, Mr. Tate.”
Brad tried to hand the man a tip, but Wesley refused it. “No, Mr. Anderson. I was happy to act as the third hand to your unique poker game.”
He abruptly turned and clicked his heels, drawing attention to his red Superman socks as he entered the elevator. “Please enjoy the rest of your evening.” He added a respectful nod to Shey as the doors closed.
Brad looked down at her and smiled, “Are you ready to have all your wishes fulfilled, Miss Allen?”
Honoring Her Wish
Shey bit her lip as the double doors to his suite slowly opened, and she hesitantly stepped inside. She glanced around the spacious room with a look of wonder on her face.
“Haven’t you ever seen this room before?” Brad asked, surprised by her response.
Shey shook her head. “Oh no, the fantasy suites are off-limits to the staff unless we reserve them.” She gravitated to the lighted waterfall wall, running her hands over the glass. “It’s spectacular…”
“A favorite feature of mine.”
She peeked into the dining room on the other side of the doorway and said with awe, “Can you imagine eating in here? A waterfall on one side and all of Vegas on the other.”
He came up behind her, tempted to wrap his arms around her waist. Although she was up in his hotel room, tonight was not destined to end in a sexual encounter. There was no reason to seduce Shey, but damn, how he wanted to try!
She turned to face him, a suspicious look on her face. “I’m not seeing any sign of Cayenne. Were you just using her as an excuse to get me into your room?”
Brad glanced around. “Apparently she’s afraid of you, Miss Allen.”
“No, cats love me!” she protested, searching through the entire suite before heading towards the large bed. She got on all fours to look under it, that sweet ass of hers tempting him to act. To his credit, Brad resisted the call and remained rooted where he stood.
“There you are!” Shey cooed sweetly.
Cayenne came shooting out from under the bed, scampering straight to Brad and clawing her way up the pant leg of his new suit.
Shey squeaked in delight. “Oh my goodness, she’s adorable!”
Once Cayenne reached his shoulder, she turned around to face Shey directly, studying her with wide eyes. He scooped the kitten off his shoulder and cradled her to his chest. “Let me formally introduce you two. This is my companion, Cayenne. Cayenne, this is the beautiful and talented Miss Allen.”
Shey walked over and reached her hand out to the tabby, letting the kitten sniff her before petting her head. She murmured, “You can call me Shey.�
�
“The kitten or me?” Brad asked.
Shey glanced up and grinned. “Both.”
“So be it…Miss Shey Allen.”
She blushed when she met his gaze.
Like it or not, he was already falling for the girl, and it appeared little Cayenne was, too. The kitten crawled out of his arms and into hers, settling against her shoulder.
“Seems Cayenne has taken a liking to you.”
“I told you cats love me,” she purred as she petted the tiny kitten.
Brad’s curiosity finally won out, so he dug into his pocket and pulled out her final request along with the others.
“We should read them out loud,” Shey suggested, selecting Brad’s requests from his palm while being careful not to disturb Cayenne. “A simple kiss…” She glanced at Brad with a shy smile before reading the next. “What is your favorite drink?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why do you want to know? Do you intend on getting me drunk?”
“Not at all, Shey,” he said, chuckling. “I naturally assumed we would remain down in the casino and thought to myself, ‘What better way to loosen up the conversation than by sharing a favorite cocktail together?’”
“Fair enough…” she conceded. Shey unfolded his last one, biting her lip as she glanced over it.
“Read it out loud,” he commanded.
She looked at him and said in a breathless whisper, “Place your hand on the area you want me to touch you.”
Brad stared at her, pleased to see she was completely unraveled by his final request. He knew that giving Shey a choice would not only give her a feeling of control, but would also allow him to gauge her level of interest.
It was a win for them both.
To ease her mind, however, he explained further, “Since I have had the pleasure of your magic fingers, I decided turnabout is fair play.”
“Ah,” she replied distractedly, playing with a strand of her hair. A good sign…
Impatient to discover what her last request was, Brad quickly read through the others. “So you asked me to tell you who Troy is and why I dislike the name.” He snorted in disgust, grumbling, “I’m not so keen on that particular request.”
Shey smiled sweetly, the picture of mischievous innocence. “Lucky for you, we’ll be drinking our favorite cocktails.”
He shook his head in amusement as he read the next one. “I would like to see a picture of Cayenne.”
Brad gestured to the kitten, who was now purring contentedly on her shoulder. “Why show you a picture when I could let you could see the real thing?”
Shey scratched the top of Cayenne’s head, laughing softly. “I can’t believe you smuggled a kitten into the hotel. Miss Young would completely flip if she knew.”
Brad only smiled, keeping that little secret to himself as he unfolded her final bet. He could feel the weight of Shey’s eyes on him as he read it.
Do a scene with me – your choice.
He looked up from the note, saying nothing.
The redhead blushed a deeper shade of crimson with each passing second, finally lowering her eyes to the floor in embarrassment.
“Yes, Shey. I will scene with you not only to honor our bet, but because it pleases me.” When she looked up, Brad took his hat off and leaned in for a kiss, pressing his lips against hers.
Shey’s whole body seemed to meld into his, a soft moan escaping from her lips. He pulled away, unnerved by the power of that kiss.
She stared up at him with a stunned look in those luminous blue eyes. “That was…”
“What?” Brad reached out and grazed her bottom lip. “Too much?”
“No,” Shey smiled. “It was perfect.”
The intensity of his attraction was disquieting. He was haunted by the idea that if he dared to have another taste, he would hunger for this woman for the rest of his life.
Feeling reckless, however, he asked Shey, “Why don’t you tell me your favorite drink.”
“I’m a Long Island girl.”
“Ah…a deceptively easy drink to swallow, but with quite the kick—much like you.”
She grinned, apparently liking his comparison. “What is your drink of choice?”
“Me? I prefer whiskey, neat.”
“Oh, you like it simple, then.”
Brad shrugged. “What can I say? I know what I like, and I don’t want it messed with.”
“Drinking whiskey does make you seem more rugged.”
He smirked. “I believe what a person drinks gives insight into their personality.”
“Are you always analyzing people, Brad?”
“Only people I’m interested in.”
The smile she bestowed on him was beguiling. Too beguiling…
Brad walked over to the phone to place their drink order, instructing the staff, “Come up with a second round exactly thirty minutes from now.”
“Two rounds?” Shey questioned when he got off the phone.
“First one to loosen me up to talk, and the second to enjoy.”
Not more than five minutes later, there was a brisk knock at the door. Cayenne jumped from Shey’s arms and scampered under the bed.
“God, I love good service,” Brad praised, as he walked over to answer the door.
“Only the best at the Nyte,” Shey agreed proudly.
A young woman in an attractive waitress uniform, complete with short skirt and high heels, stood waiting at the door. “Where would you like it, Mr. Anderson?”
“Over there,” he said, pointing to the dining table beyond the waterfall. She walked into the room with grace, setting their drinks on the table before returning to him. He handed her a generous tip, stating, “I admire a girl who doesn’t spill a drop.”
Giving him a small curtsy, she thanked him before leaving.
Brad escorted Shey into the dining room and pulled out a seat for her.
“Why, thank you, Mr. Anderson,” she said formally, her tone matching the elegant setting.
“My pleasure, Miss Allen.” He pushed her chair in before handing her the Long Island and picking up his glass of whiskey, raising it to her. “Here’s to honoring a bet.”
Shey smiled as she placed those sexy lips against the rim of the glass.
Brad couldn’t help envisioning those fine lips wrapped around his manhood, so he threw back his glass and downed the drink, shaking his head afterwards to rid himself of the unwanted thought.
“Too strong?” she teased.
Brad pulled out the chair beside her and turned it around, quickly sitting down to hide his ‘growing’ interest in her. “You asked about my aversion to the name Troy. I personally can’t stand sob stories on a first date, so I’ll keep it short.”
He groaned before continuing, wishing she hadn’t asked this of him. Talking about Amy when the pain was still fresh was difficult—but a bet was a bet.
“I met Amy Gardner years ago. At that time I was determined to make a name for myself in Denver—both professionally in the business sector, and personally as a Dom.” He added with a smirk, “I was a far more serious man back then.”
“Well, you certainly did make a name for yourself,” Shey complimented, raising her glass to him as she took another drink.
He looked at his empty glass longingly, wishing he’d ordered a double. “Up until Amy, I hadn’t known what it was like to actually love someone. Lust, yes—in spades—but never love. Although she wasn’t interested in exploring the lifestyle, I was convinced she was meant to be my submissive.”
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. Damn, it still hurt…
Brad forced his eyes open and gazed into Shey’s. “To make a long story short, I wasn’t aware that she’d had her heart broken and still secretly carried a torch for the guy. Just when I thought she was mine, he returned, and poof—I lost her.”
“Am I wrong to assume the guy’s name was Troy?”
He growled upon hearing that name. “And to add salt to the wound, a year later I found out that Amy h
ad been in a serious accident and he was nowhere to be found. I went to the hospital, determined not to lose her again, but I made the mistake of compromising myself in trying to claim her. In the end, I made a fool of myself for nothing, and was burned again.”
“So I take it Troy returned?” Shey prompted gently when he failed to explain further.
“Yes,” he huffed. “In fact, she was wearing my engagement ring when he showed up.”
Shey surprised Brad by wrapping her arms around him, her voice breaking with emotion when she said, “I’m so sorry, Brad.”
Her expression of sympathy threw him, and Brad felt tears suddenly well up in his eyes. He resisted them, having already said goodbye to his past. Still, her heartfelt response moved him deeply. When he looked into Shey’s tearful eyes and saw the pain reflected in them, he finally understood why. “You’ve been hurt in the same way.”
She nodded, a sob escaping her lips. “Although I never wore his ring, Sam promised to marry me. Instead, he married her, and to make matters worse, the girl’s already pregnant with their first child. That was supposed to be my little girl.”
“What was her name—the one who stole him away?”
“Laura…” Shey answered in the barest of whispers.
He took her hand and kissed it. “I solemnly promise never to name my cat Laura.”
Shey burst into giggles as she wiped away her tears. “And I officially give you permission to call my cat T.”
“T it is, then.”
Brad gathered Shey into his arms, both silent as they basked in the easy camaraderie between them.
Shey jumped when there was a knock on the door.
Looking at his watch, Brad complimented, “Exactly thirty minutes to the dot. You can’t beat the staff here.” This time Brad took the tray from the waitress, thanking her as he handed over another tip. “Exacting service should always be rewarded.”
“Much appreciated, Mr. Anderson,” she replied with a cute curtsy, closing the doors as he made his way back to Shey.
Brad handed over her second glass. “Don’t feel you have to drink this. I tend to err on the side of overabundance rather than risk being caught short. It’s something my mother taught me growing up. During our leaner years, she still managed to have a full table, even if it consisted mainly of homemade rolls and mashed potatoes.”