Double Down: The most precious pot (Hot Kings and Curvy Queens of Las Vegas Book 1)

by Alice May Ball

  For now, I’ll settle for taking all his money.

  I’m still having to keep my attention on the game and not on her. Every time she leans forward to reach across the table, I feel the warmth of her body. I want to stare into the front of that loose shirt. The scent of her makes my head want to turn, to crane my neck. Stretch my face up to hers.

  In the tenth hand, I’ve got two jacks, there’s another out on the table. I’m holding a king and I’m looking at my cards one time too many to tell him I’m empty and I’m bluffing. I cover a nervous hint of a smile to back it up as I follow his bet on the turn. The river is a red king and I tense my lip to show that I’m holding back disappointment.

  He opens another round of betting. I look at my cards just once, then hesitate. Pick up the cards. Showing him, Should I fold? Like it’s an impulse, I go all in, with my jaw set. Showing that I want to scare him off the pot. To underline it, I make the beginning of a slow, regretful blink.

  Too much? I hope not. He shakes his head and smiles. And then he’s all in, too.

  I love it. We both stand.

  He turns his cards one by one, and it’s clear he’s got a flush. My heart jumps as he turns the last card. Could I have guessed wrong? Could he have a straight flush?

  One away from a straight. He’s gracious when he sees my face, before I turn the cards. He smiles, “Full house?”

  A smatter of applause comes from the doorway. I hadn’t noticed that we drew a crowd.

  Carl shakes my hand with a rueful smile. “Damn, son. I hope we’ll do this again.” Shaking his hand back, I’m sincere, telling him, “Me, too.”

  Of course he could buy in some more chips, but he’s too good to chase a loss and I respect him even more for it.

  She says, “Great play, gentlemen. Congratulations.”

  Three of the spectators, two smart-casual corporate type guys and a woman I’m sure they just met, all step to the table and take seats. I know they want me to stay and take their money, but they haven’t got enough of it to be worth my while.

  Carl tips the dealer generously in cash. She thanks him nicely, then holds the notes up for the cameras to see before very visibly stashing them in a wallet. I still haven’t caught her name. Another dealer, a pretty brunette, enters the room and stands behind the table. It must be one more deal before her break.

  I thank her for the deal and she nods her acknowledgement, turning slightly, just to make her name tag even harder to read. Her eyes flick up and down again. I want her to make a firm eye contact but she won’t. I put a massive tip on the table for her.

  Again, she’s careful to avoid touching the bills until after I’ve withdrawn my hand. If anything, she acts even cooler, more distant and detached as she shows the bills high for the camera.

  The other players’ eyes stretch wide as she counts the hundreds one by one.

  I raise a hand as I leave, but she looks up with just the minimum politeness in response. She spreads the tight trace of a smile, though, when she sees me make one last attempt to read her badge.

  Back in the light and hubbub of the general gaming floor, my emotions are spinning. I think we’re in a secret, silent complicity, she and I, but I realize that I want it so bad, I can’t even tell if it’s true or wishful thinking.

  In the background, behind all the electronic burble and squeaks, that old song seeps out and into my soul. It’s rare to hear it in public and I’m never ready for it. It always hits me. For about ten minutes, I hang around by the slots, with an eye on the poker room.

  And then I see her.

  She slips out of a door, headed for the elevators with a suit bag over her shoulder. She’s can’t be finished for the day, surely. That would be too good to be true.

  I hurry, but there’s no-one in the lobby. In the farthest doorway, a pair of shiny brass doors is closing. I run and then I have to leap to get my hand between the sliding doors. I figure I must be too late but just before the black rubber pads close on my fingers, the doors stop and reverse direction to slide apart.

  Chapter 10

  Grace

  He bursts into the elevator car. As the doors slide shut behind him, it’s like all the air is sucked out of the car. My breath stops. It’s just me and him. I feel like I’m not going to be able to breathe. Like if he comes any nearer, I’ll burst into flame.

  His eyes react to an old Fleetwood Mac song playing in the car. The color of his eyes lightens.

  My nerves jangle.

  Wake up, Grace. He’s a guest. I can’t let myself be busted for fraternizing. What I’m most afraid of is how much I want to jump on him. Paint myself on him. My knees quiver.

  Adrenaline is still pounding from my first poker session. I was wound up tight like a coiled spring, holding myself in check and keeping on top of the game. The dealing rounds all got hotter when he came to the table. Now I’m reverberating. Being shut in the car with him makes me feel as if I could simply explode.

  “Please,” The word comes out involuntarily and I raise my fingers with my hands still tight by my sides. I don’t even know what I mean by it. He takes a step closer. Heat rises. It feels like the aircon has stopped working in the car.

  My thighs tingle. My palms, the insides of my arms are pulled to him like he’s a huge magnet.

  He’s looking at my name tag. But it’s low on my breast, so I feel like he’s staring at my boob. Which is heaving like I’ve been holding my breath forever.

  He makes his sardonic trace of a smile. His voice is like bourbon over molasses. I’m drenched just at the sound of it when he says, “Nice name.”

  I bite my lip.

  He asks me, “Where do you take your break, Grace?” I press harder back it the corner of the elevator.

  “The pit boss told me I could take a longer break. Go home, get lunch. Change out.”

  “I want you.”

  My stomach drops, faster than the elevator could if its cables all snapped. “You… I can’t. We can’t.”

  “House rules?”

  I nod.

  I’m hungry for him. I feel a longing for him in my mouth and on my tongue. And I’m panicked inside about how he must be able to smell my need. I’m pressing back into the corner, like I could somehow push myself through the crack and escape.

  I can’t remember wanting anything the way I want him. Not since I was little and I wanted an ice-cream. I need him like food. Like chocolate cake.

  His eyes sear me. His arrogant half smile makes me buzz. He looks like he could rip me open with his eyes. Like he could tear me. Or unzip me.

  His lips peel apart and whatever he’s going to say, I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe how tense I am. I want him to speak and cut the tension but I’m jangling with nervous anticipation and I want to slap my hand over his mouth and before I’ve had time to stop myself, I jump. I launch myself across the car at him.

  Fast. Hard and hot. His body is huge, hot and rock solid.

  I know I’m on camera. A pit boss and a security operative could be watching right now. But it’s so hard to pull myself away. My whole body wants him so hard. I’m gasping.

  It feels too good. His mouth and mine. I hold back and he does, too, as our lips come in range. Tasting his breath. Feeling the pounding of my heart bang against him. We fit. His breath is like it’s mine. His body is all I want. All I need.

  Our lips touch and they fit. Slowly, we press, molding together. Breathing each other in. Then, there’s a letting go and it’s like our mouths know each other all along. Like they’ve been waiting for this. Waiting forever.

  And then we move faster. Urgent. Impatient, as our breath and our tongues meet.

  My sense of time spins into confusion. It feels as though the kiss goes on forever, and at the same time, it’s no time at all. It’s too good. And too bad. He chuckles and it’s the most dangerously delicious sound I ever heard. I didn’t even ask him if he wanted it.

  Finally, with a groan, I haul myself off him. The rumble o
f his chuckle makes me tingle so hard, I’m on him again, rocking my hips against him. Dragging my hot, soft ache, up and down the length of his stiff ridge. Kissing him like he’s my last breath. Taking his mouth like my last meal.

  Again, I manage to rip myself away.

  “You realize, I’ve just thrown away the best job I ever had?”

  His face shows nothing. “What?”

  “I worked so hard for this. And now you’ve made me trash it in an instant. And for what?”

  “Well, we’d better find out. Don’t you think?”

  “Are you mad? Did you hear what I just said?”

  “You jumped on me, remember?”

  “I know. But you made me.” It sounds mad, even to me. “I had to. What have you done to me?”

  “There you go again.” He’s shaking his head. Then, “Cross the street with me.”

  A gasp rips out of my throat. He’s just standing there. I don’t know how I’m stopping myself from clawing at his lovely white shirt. My fingers want to tear that cotton and scrape his skin. Underneath. I want to be wrapped around him. I want to taste every part of him.

  “I can’t.” There’s a crack in my voice now, and I wish I could yank it back. “Whatever I do, if I’m seen leaving with a guest, I’ll lose my job.” I know it’s too late, though. All the damage is done already.

  “Before we either of us gets too carried away, don’t you want to know if there’s anything there?”

  “What are you even talking about?”

  “Between us. Is this just an uncommonly blinding flash of lust lightning, or is there more to it?”

  “Lust lightning? Is that a thing?”

  “It definitely is now.” His amused chuckle makes my nerves clatter. “Take a cab. Literally across the street. Meet me in the lobby of the Lucky King Casino.”

  “I…”

  “We can just talk. Have a drink in the Circle Bar. It will be perfectly proper and totally innocent.”

  “It won’t.”

  “Okay, I lied. Meet me there anyway.” He pushes the button for the parking level. I step out on the first floor, spilling out toward the main entrance. We never use the main entrance.

  Five minutes later and I’m breathless, in the lobby of the Lucky King, crossing the crimson carpets, looking around me and feeling unsteady from the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I shouldn’t be here. The feeling I’ve got deep down is like I’m doing something really wrong. The scariest thing is that I love the feeling and I’m craving more of it.

  He’s at the reception desk. Player One. Turning back. He’s so fucking devastating, I know this has to be some kind of a scam. I’m being set up. It’s a ruse. I can’t really believe he would have been interested in me, even when I was looking my best, before my totally humiliating ice shower. But afterward? No chance. If he snapped his fingers, half the cocktail waitresses in this resort would be pressed up against his pants in an instant, breathless to find out what they could possibly give him.

  I’m under no illusions. On a good day, with the right prep, I can be hot. Not smoking, not dazzling, but hot. Him? He could be a supermodel. I’m sure he means to use me and I can’t imagine why, other than if it’s because I’m a poker dealer. But that makes no sense at all. There’s no way anyone could have known I was due to start at the poker tables today. I wasn’t a dealer before this morning and nobody else knew except for Saul.

  But, as he steps closer, I know, he could ask me anything. Tell me anything. I would do it in a heartbeat, whatever it was. I want him so much.

  How is it that I know what he’s going to say?

  “I got us a suite.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just in case.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want to go to the bar?”

  “No.”

  Chapter 11

  Adam

  I hold open the pale wood double doors to the suite for her. As she passes by me I take in her scent and her heat. Feeling her as she walks by, I’m so tuned in to her, it’s like I can feel her skin through my clothes and hers. I want her more than anything. More than I can remember ever wanting anything before. I am so turned on, I’m pumped so hard, I’m aching for her. I need her right now.

  She walks into the middle of the suite, with the windows behind her and the bed on one side. She turns and the look in her eye sets me on fire. She drops the suit bag on a chair.

  “I shouldn’t do this,” she tells me, “We shouldn’t do this.”

  “This that we’re about to do?” Her hands fidget and her shoulders tense and roll.

  “Yes,” she shakes her head. “We shouldn’t.” and she nods. I seriously think I’m falling in love.

  I want to seize her. Peel her clothes away. Dumb things, getting in the way of me seeing her. Having her. What use are they? But the sensation of wanting her, anticipating how she will feel, her softness and her heat, knowing that she will open up for me, so eagerly, so hungrily, it sends tingles over all of my skin. Like every hair, every cell is preparing for her, feeling her in advance. And I know that she’s feeling it, too.

  Her hips tilt and roll and I can hardly stand to wait another second.

  Low, quiet and firm, I tell her, “We both know that we shouldn’t.” She nods.

  “And we know that we will.” Her breath catches. “I’m buzzing for you. Aching.”

  Her teeth graze her lip. “I want to pull your clothes off, but I really don’t know if I can trust myself not to tear them to shreds.”

  Her voice has a soft scrape as she says, “I’ve got a complete change in the bag.”

  That’s all I need. In one bound I’m on her. I take the back of her neck and hold her waist as my eyes drill into hers. Her eyes glisten and widen as her lips peel apart. First, we make contact. Slow. Holding back. I take her with my mouth. I feel her zinging pulses and beats as her body presses, hot and soft against mine. Her hardening nipples scrape through her bra, her shirt, and her jacket to drill against my stomach.

  The heat of her pelvis grinds and rolls against the hard ridge in the front of my pants as our breaths combine and our tongues dance, faster, furious. Desperate.

  Bunching her shirt in my fist, I pull the front, hard. Three buttons fly and the hard rip inflames me as I pull the fabric from her. First my hands take and caress her throat, her glowing shoulders, and the heaving mounds of her fabulous breasts. I’m able to stop myself tearing her bra apart, only because the clasp at the front yields immediately.

  Her fingers claw at my shirt inside my coat. She slides her arms around me to pull my waist and moans as she pulls my hips tighter to hers. She sighs as she grips and squeezes the cheeks of my ass. Then she pulls at the buttons of my shirt.

  As she gets my shirt open, she plants her lips on my chest and nips at my flesh with her teeth.

  I grab at her belt and pull it open, dragging her zipper down and reaching for the soft insides of her milky thighs, sighing as I firmly caress the lovely softness of her stomach and her hips.

  Her panties aren’t as lucky as the bra. While her pants drop, crumpled to the floor and she steps out of them, as soon as my fingers find her lacy panties, I’ve begun to tear them. The jagged pull and the sound are so delicious. As I’m tearing them, her hands pull open my pants and free my cock from my silky boxers.

  I want to lift her. Fling her on the bed. Devour her and drink the nectar from her pussy.

  She’s kissing and nibbling my chest and her head is moving down.

  Slipping my hand under her and lifting her by the underside of her thigh, her leg goes up, and neither of us can stop it now. Her ankle goes onto my shoulder, I’m still half dressed as my cock finds her delicious wetness. Nudges, like an animal nosing its way home, then she gasps and I moan as I ream straight up inside her.

  She’s so tight on my shaft that her eyes water. Her pelvis shoves hard along my length and rocks. Slowly, a little deeper with each roll, she drags me deeper and I’m drilling harder. My hands are in
her hair and her fingers stroke my cheeks.

  Our eyes stay open, wondering, questioning, exploring as we kiss. Some pecks, some nips, some long, sighing close, soulful explorations and journeys of kisses as our hips dance, swivel, and hammer together.

  I’m trying to grab and hold every part of her at once, and at the same time tenderly feel every inch of her warm, silky skin. She jams her fingers in my hair and I bend to suck and tease her breasts. She claws at my ass to pull me deeper into her.

  “I want to lick you. I want to drink you. All of you,” I tell her.

  “I want to suck you all the way down, deep into my throat.”

  Holding the cheeks of her ass, I can’t let go.

  “Fuck me,” her voice is a roar and I feel her wet muscles clasp and squeeze on the hilt of my shaft. I’m scraping high and hard and seeing her neck tighten and her chest redden, all at once I can hardly hold back at all.

  I push in and hold, keeping myself from pumping until I can be certain she’s reaching her biggest crest. The effort of holding back is making me shake, but she’s scratching my skin and beating the sides and heels of her fists on me as she throws her head back and side to side.

  That’s what I need. I want her so fucked she’s never going to think about another man. I want her totally mine. Now and forever. Right away. I want babies with this woman.

  Her pussy gushes and sucks on me at the same time. Her chest is glowing. I can’t stop now.

  Her eyes stretch wide and roll back as my cock swells and tightens. She shouts and gasps. All of my body explodes inside.

  I hammer deeper and harder as my balls release and my load splashes her inside. I’m staying all the way up her and locked. I want very one of those little swimmers to have the best possible chance of sparking into life inside her.