All In: A Vegas Reverse Harem Romance

by Cassie Cole

  “That was a few years ago,” he said, reaching into the cooler for a drink. He handed me a Pepsi—after a week together in this room he knew what I liked. “I’ve moved on.”

  “Still, though,” I said. “To have to give up your purpose in life…”

  “Security is close to being a police officer,” he said, though he didn’t sound convincing. He clenched his teeth, which accentuated the lines of his jaw. I wanted to give him a big hug, tell him I was sorry that life was shitty and unfair.

  Before I could, he said, “Hey, do you see that?”

  Two guards came out of the elevator on the roof of the Volga. They didn’t go anywhere; they just stood there. Waiting.

  That was different.

  A few minutes later the helicopter arrived. I knew Eddie was thinking what I was thinking, but neither of us wanted to say it out loud and jinx it. The helicopter landed, but this time no celebrities in fancy clothes came out. Just three more guards, who looked around as if expecting an ambush at any moment. They wore all black and held something across their chests…

  “Those are submachine guns,” Eddie said as he watched through the binoculars. “Hot damn.”

  The two guards who had been waiting on the roof approached the helicopter. The helicopter blocked what was happening, but both of us had a pretty good guess. Moments later the two guards were carrying a box together, walking it toward the elevator. Under the watchful eye of the armed men they put it down, went back to the helicopter, and retrieved a second box.

  One of them stood watch over the boxes while the other went back in the elevator room, returning with a small push cart. They stacked the boxes on top, covered it all with a white sheet, and then disappeared from view.

  Rather than fly, away the helicopter remained. The men stood around the roof as if an ambush might suddenly appear.

  “Time,” Eddie said, pressing a stopwatch I hadn’t noticed. He jumped to his feet. “They took one minute and 49 seconds from touch-down to the cash entering the elevator.”

  I looked at my cell phone and stood. “It’s 8:14. Not a regular time, but still…”

  Eddie grinned at me. “That’s it! We have our confirmation!”

  We hugged each other and shouted while jumping up and down like excited children. We were drunk from our victory, the culmination of a week of sitting in this stupid hotel room and waiting for the evidence we needed. And in the end I was right: the money was arriving by helicopter. And it appeared to happen every Saturday.

  We had ourselves a schedule.

  I pulled away, and Eddie did the same, but neither of us let go.

  And then, like we were celestial bodies under the influence of mutual gravity, we kissed.

  His lips were more sensual and soft than I would have expected from someone like him, but looks could be deceiving. The kiss wasn’t the kiss of two people who were unfamiliar—it was like we’d been doing it for years and knew exactly what each other liked. He pulled me closer and gave me his tongue right when I wanted it, warm and soft. His body was a mountain and I was pressed against it like I was afraid of falling, but Eddie wouldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let me go.

  Our excitement from the stakeout blended with our kiss and heightened everything. His hand caressed down my shoulder blade and to the crook of my back. Then, like someone diving into a swimming pool, he smacked a hand on my ass and squeezed it hard.

  I moaned into his mouth as we fell sideways onto the bed. We were a tangle of limbs as I ran my hands over his chest and he kept trying to feel every inch of me, and neither of us wanted to allow our lips to part.

  Then he pulled away so fast that it shocked me. He scrambled off the bed like I was diseased, and for a few brief moments I felt the horrible pang of rejection.

  “Eddie…” I said, pushing up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

  But Eddie was pulling something out of his duffel bag. Our communication ring and ear piece. “Guys,” he said, face flushed from our physical activity. “We’ve got confirmation!”

  Oh. He wasn’t rejecting me—he was simply notifying the others.

  “Bryce is in that poker tournament,” I said. I felt like I had to say something or it would be awkward. “And Xander’s show might still be on.”

  “Probably, but at least now they know.” He turned his attention back to me, hunger on his hard face, and ripped the ear piece out and tossed his ring aside.

  He practically pounced on me, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing his delicious lips to mine. His hand went straight to my thigh and wedged it open, and I obediently spread my legs for him, my dress hiking up in the process.

  Is this a mistake?

  It felt so good but I made myself consider it. We were both excited from the helicopter arrival. Our adrenaline was pumping. Was this what we wanted to do?

  Hell no it’s not a mistake.

  I slid a hand underneath his belt and quickly found his manhood, hard and hot through his boxers. I got as good of a grip as I could and began stroking. He responded by exploring further up my dress, his calloused fingers reaching my panty line. He planted his other hand on my breast, pushing me down into the bed.

  Rubbing. Holding me down.

  I was his right now. I could see it in his eyes.

  And it turned me on more than anything I’d ever felt.

  I trembled as his fingers trenched up and down my lips, which were already as wet as could be. Yet somehow the palm on my chest, holding me down with more than a little force, turned me on more than the fingers caressing my pussy.

  His green eyes held a note of danger as he leaned down for a kiss. But he paused with his lips a few hair-lengths from mine, denying me the kiss I wanted. Our breath mingled as he sneered.

  “Are you mine?” he asked.

  I nodded quickly.

  “Answer me.” His fingers paused inside my pussy.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, I am yours!”

  “All of you is mine.” His voice was a wonderful, deep rumble. “Your pretty lips. Your full breasts. And your cunt,” his fingers pushed deeper. “Your cunt is mine.”

  I normally hated that word, especially on the lips of a man. But there was something deliciously vulgar about it at that moment while this handsome man held me down on the bed. His fingers weren’t inside my vagina, or pussy. They were in my cunt.

  The waves of pleasure that accompanied his grin made me sigh and tremble.

  His fingers curled deeper inside, two of them, and then even a third. He twisted them like he was cleaning a glass, the rough skin of his palm rubbing against my clit.

  I am his, I thought with growing ecstasy. I’m his to play with.

  Faster and faster he fingered me, the pressure of his other hand never lessening. With shock I realized my orgasm was sneaking up on me, a rising tide filling the room until soon it would eliminate all air. I gasped and my chest heaved against his palm and the planes of his face smiled as he watched me approach the climax.

  A knock on the door came right before I did. “No,” I moaned, totally knocked out of my ecstasy. “Damnit, no!”

  Eddie growled like a wolf. “If that’s housekeeping I’m going to push their cart down the stairs.” But as he got up from the bed he went to his duffel bag and came out with a small revolver with a wooden grip.

  The sight of the gun changed the mood from annoyance to danger. Slowly he stalked toward the door, taking care to make as little noise as possible. When he reached the door he pressed his body against the wall and leaned out to look through the peep hole. His muscular arms were tight with tension.

  Then his entire body relaxed. He opened the door.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you announce yourself?”

  Xander rushed inside. “I didn’t want to make too much noise. I came right over when I heard what you said. I even skipped the autograph line!”

  I cleared my throat and tried to discretely push my dress back down, but Xander only had eyes for th
e window.

  “Yegorovich left the poker room and walked across the casino. Did I mention that? He went straight to that hallway just like before.” He stopped in front of the window and his mouth hung open. “Oh lordy. The helicopter’s still there? Look at those guys! Are those guns?”

  “Submachine guns,” Eddie said. He was carefully not looking at me. “Volga guards unloaded two boxes while those goons watched.”

  “Look at them. What are they waiting for?” Xander asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Xander sat down and grabbed a drink from the cooler. “Guess we’ll have to see what happens next.”

  I shared a look with Eddie. He quickly glanced away.

  “You guys got any leftover food?” Xander asked. “I could eat a horse.”

  18

  Eddie

  Well fuck me with a tire iron. I hadn’t expected that to happen tonight. And I wasn’t talking about the helicopter full of dirty Russian money.

  Sage and I had bonded a little bit during the stakeout week. It was inevitable when you put two people in a cramped space for hours on end. And she was an attractive woman. I’d have to be blind not to notice that.

  But she wasn’t really my type. At least, I hadn’t thought she was until…

  Until we kissed.

  Goddamn it felt good. Like her lips were puzzle pieces meant to fit with mine. And the way she looked at me while I pushed my fingers up inside her, the widening of her eyes and the gasp that begged me to do more…

  As I sat there with Xander watching the helicopter across the way I couldn’t think about anything but the sexy woman sitting on the bed. We were one step closer to enough money to last us the rest of our lives and the only thing in my mind was finishing what I’d started with Sage.

  I burned for her.

  Xander was oblivious to the awkwardness in the room. The guys with submachine guns hung out for five more minutes, received some kind of notification in their ear pieces, then got back on the helicopter to leave.

  As soon as they left I did the same, mumbling a quick goodbye to the others and heading home like my shoes were on fire.

  I thought about Sage all night. I laid in bed with the image of her face firmly in my mind, and eventually let my hand drift down to my boxers, underneath the tight elastic. I touched myself and lasted less than a minute before I was clenching my eyes shut with ecstasy, but it was a pale pleasure in comparison to what I wanted to do with Sage.

  I had an early shift at the Volga the next day, noon to 8:00. I went in a bit early to mingle with some of the other security guards coming off their shifts and changing in the locker room.

  I had to be careful. Real careful. I was friendly with most of these guys, but only as colleagues. I couldn’t push my questioning too much without raising suspicions.

  “Hey Glenn,” I said casually when we were alone. “You ever get assigned to the hall over by the stage?”

  “Nah,” he said. “Heard they’re looking for guys to man that shift, but they’re real careful about who they put there. Lots of scrutiny, more than what they gave us before our jobs. You know what I mean? I don’t need all that heat in my life.”

  “Huh,” I said as if I was surprised by that. “Any idea what’s up with that hall?”

  Glenn finished tying his shoe and looked around the locker room before speaking. The international sign of someone about to share a secret. “You know how these Russian guys are. They’re paranoid about who gets close to them. I think old Vladdy uses that hall to get to his suite without generating attention. Same for the girls he takes up there. He wants to know whoever is on that hallway can keep their mouths shut, you feel me?”

  “Makes sense,” I said, though I knew the real reason why.

  I spent all day asking around. Just casual stuff; when I happened to meet another security guard out on the casino floor, or during one of my breaks. It was risky to put myself out there like that—the last thing I wanted was word getting around that I was snooping around their money laundering operation. But there were some missing details in the entire thing that needed to be filled before we came up with a plan.

  Slowly I gathered information. Bits and pieces here and there. When my shift was halfway over the full picture was coming into view.

  I sent out a group text when I was back in the locker room on my break:

  Me: We meeting tonight to discuss what we learned last night?

  Bryce: I’m out. Made it to the final four tables.

  I gritted my teeth in frustration. That was the poker tournament Bryce was in last night. Apparently he’d done well enough to last until the participants were whittled down to four tables, which would resume tonight.

  But I didn’t give a shit about his little hobby. Our heist was more important, and we had a lot to discuss.

  Me: Let’s meet after. When’s it end?

  Bryce: LOL, depends on how well I do. Don’t plan on me being there. I’ve got a good feeling about it.

  Before I could send an angry text back, a message from Sage popped up.

  Sage: Too bad for you. We decided I’m going to steal the cash tonight all by my lonesome.

  Xander: Oh good, I was hoping it would just be that easy

  Sage: Pretty girls get away with everything. Smile a lot, show a little cleavage…

  Bryce: Perfect. You do all the work and we’ll meet up tomorrow to split the pot.

  Sage: Oh no sir. I’m keeping it all for myself.

  Xander: What would you do with 16 million that you couldn’t do with 4?

  Sage: Fill my bathtub with cash and dive into it like Scrooge McDuck!

  I couldn’t help but laugh, which drew some looks from the other guys in the locker room. Sage had a way about her that helped everyone relax when tensions were high. I thought it was dangerously flippant when she joined the team, but now I could see our group had desperately needed that.

  I’d been able to avoid thinking about Sage all day while I was busy, but now she was firmly wedged back into my mind. Last night, the way her skin felt in my palm, the way she opened her legs for me with an evil grin…

  I pulled up her number for a private text and started typing, then stopped myself. I didn’t know what to say to her. Or if there was anything I could say. Xander and I had already had a talk with Bryce about how he couldn’t allow his personal feelings for Sage to get in the way of the job, that he had to be smart about it until we’d pulled off the heist. Yet here I was suddenly pining for her myself.

  But the happiness Sage filled me with was stronger than the guilt of being a hypocrite.

  I wrote and deleted four separate text message before finally giving up and returning to my shift on the casino floor.

  19

  Sage

  I wrote and deleted eight separate text messages to Eddie throughout the day. Each one made me cringe when I read it back.

  Was what happened last night a mistake? It sure as hell didn’t feel that way.

  What would have happened if we weren’t interrupted by Xander?

  That’s the question that plagued me all morning and into the afternoon. The good old what if game we played in our heads when we felt like torturing ourselves. Would Eddie and I have stopped and realized it was a bad idea? Would we have kept making out and doing hand stuff? Would we have thrown caution to the wind and stripped our clothes off and tried to break the bed?

  I couldn’t help but wonder, and it was driving me nuts.

  There was another issue though, and it started eating away at me in a different way. We’d totally abandoned our job watching the helicopter when we started kissing. If Xander had not interrupted us, we might not have seen when the helicopter eventually did leave, which might be a crucial piece of information.

  This was exactly why Bryce and I had put a pause on whatever it was we had. Because it might get in the way of the job.

  “Four million dollars,” I said out loud to remind me what was really importan
t. “Eyes on the prize, Sage.”

  A knock came at my apartment door, a hollow sound through the cheap wood. I was elbow deep washing dishes in the kitchen so I waited for Angela to get it, but the knock came again a few seconds later.

  I pulled off my gloves and grumbled as I went to the door. Angela had been holed away in her room lately like a hermit, talking on the phone in a hushed voice and only coming out to use the bathroom or go to her shift at the Volga. Which I wouldn’t have minded except it meant I had to shoulder the load of cleaning and answering the door.

  “I’ll get it,” I said in a passive aggressive tone as I went down the hall. “It’s not like I have anything better to do…”

  I swung the door open. Xander stood there in his blue jeans and button-down. For once he wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, and in his hand was a guitar case.

  “Howdy.”

  “Did you seriously just say howdy?” I asked.

  “Sure did. Can I come in?”

  I was too surprised to do anything but let him in. We were cramped in the little hallway, so I then had to squeeze by his large shape until we reached the living room.

  “It’s not much,” I said, “but it’s affordable.”

  He looked around at the spartan furnishings with approval. “I like it.”

  “Wait. How did you know where I live?”

  “Bryce gave me the address.”

  Ahh. That made sense. Then I blinked. “Bryce has only ever dropped me off outside. He doesn’t actually know which apartment is mine.”

  Xander ran a nervous hand through his dirty blond hair. “Yeah, funny story. I had to knock on a few doors and ask for you.”

  “Nobody in the building knows me.”

  “No,” he agreed, “but they did know of a woman who sings in her apartment with a beautiful voice. Well, that’s how I characterized it. Some of them described it differently.”