Boston Avant-Garde: Impetuous (22 page)

The deck was new. It had been well shuffled, but there was a chance it would be top-heavy. Because theirs were the only hands dealt from the deck, there was no way to manage odds. It was all a gamble. The queen’s dead eyes stared up at him. He met her gaze, feeling an icy sense of purpose.

Nicolai waited. This was a good start, but it was an indicator that his first assessment was right and the face cards were on top. A hand like this would have been worthless in a regular game where he was trying to beat the house. Tonight it didn’t matter if he beat the house. He only had to beat Jackson.

Jackson’s movements were big, overdone, and jerky. He stared straight at Dante, waiting for his cards to be dealt. The fingers resting on the table quivered. He reached up to scratch his nose in order to hide the telltale movement.

Nicolai slowed his own breathing and listened to the man beside him. Jackson’s chest rose and fell quickly, though he tried to conceal it. Nicolai knew if he were to turn and look, Jackson’s pupils would be dilated, his cheeks flushed, and his skin clammy. He was excited, probably enough to act without thinking things through.

Dante set Jackson’s first card faceup on the table. The macabre expression on the jack of diamonds gave Nicolai a jolt. He hadn’t seen that little bastard’s face since the night it had lost him everything. Exhaling long and slow, Nicolai let his feelings go with effort. He was not the same man he’d been that night. That man was gone.

His gaze drifted upward until it locked with Desiree’s. The serenity in her expression gave him confidence he never could have found on his own. Win or lose, he had a woman who meant more than anything else in the world, and Jackson couldn’t touch that.

Everything shifted as Dante dealt Jackson his next card. It was like watching from across the room, as if Nicolai were just a spectator. The seven of diamonds gleamed bloody in the overhead lights. Jackson’s fingers uncurled from a fist, and he hastily sliced his hand over his cards to indicate a stand.

A murmur of surprise rose from the spectators. There it was, Jackson’s overconfident mistake. He was standing on a seventeen with a fresh deck between them. The play so far suggested Dante had done a thorough job shuffling the cards.

“Jackson stands.” Dante put another card facedown on his own pile and then looked up. “Nicolai?”

Nicolai wordlessly tapped the smooth surface of his cards with just the tips of his second and third fingers. Dante dipped his chin in acknowledgment and placed another card on Nicolai’s hand. The black ace of clubs nestled beside the queen and her red four.

“Why don’t you look around for a pillow, Desiree? It’ll make the rest of the night more comfortable when you’re down on your knees servicing me.”

A smattering of laughter drifted around those gathered to watch. Jackson’s words didn’t faze Nicolai in the least. The game wasn’t over yet. Anything between a three and a six would win it. Seven would put him over the top.

Dante put another card on his pile and was already reaching for the next card when Nicolai indicated a hit. The six of diamonds slipped to the tabletop, coming to rest against the remainder of Nicolai’s hand with quiet finality.

Nicolai waved his hand over his cards. “Stand.”

“That’s bullshit!” Jackson leaped to his feet, his chair going over backward behind him.

A svelte server brought Dante a glass of scotch on the rocks. He took a swig and indicated the cards laid out on the table. “No, that’s blackjack.”

“What about the house? If the house wins, Desiree has to go with you.”

Intent on Jackson’s actions, Nicolai hadn’t noticed Desiree move to stand behind him until he felt her hand on his arm. He sensed her tension, but there was no reason for it. Dante was a lot of things, but he had no interest in women who didn’t reciprocate.

Dante flipped his own cards over: a nine, a king, an ace, and a five. “Dealer is bust. Happy?”

“No!”

Jackson had taken another breath to keep protesting when Desiree hauled back and coldcocked him in the face with her right hand. Stunned, he took a step backward and promptly tripped over his chair. He hit the floor to the sound of raucous laughter. Desiree made a little squeak and shook her hand as though it were on fire. It was all Nicolai could do to keep from doubling over with laughter at the sight.

Instead, he stood up and took her hand in his. “That was a nice solid hit, wild girl. And you remembered to lead with your first two knuckles.”

“I just wanted him to shut up.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“The two of you might want a private spot on the opposite side of the club for tonight.” Dante swirled the ice cubes around his glass, gesturing to Jackson’s undignified position on the floor. “I don’t think he’s going to give you any trouble, but milady did give his pride quite a beating.”

Nicolai got the impression there was more going on than Jackson’s bad behavior. “If you’re offering a suite, we’ll accept.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Dante gestured to one of the employees and turned to leave, a strangely solemn expression on his face.

The “suite” Dante had given them for the night looked like a silken tent. The interior was a large square, the soft floor covered in thick padding, expensive linens, and strewn with pillows. The draperies were heavy, buffering the noise of the casino and creating an intimate setting.

Desiree kicked off her shoes and walked farther in, staring up. The drapes were hung by an elaborate system of cords and pulleys that left a large opening in the ceiling. Barring the intrusion of the casino’s security team, they were afforded privacy without the feeling of claustrophobia.

Nicolai entered the tent and dropped the drape behind him, sealing them in.

Her pulse sped up until she was certain he could hear the thunder of her heart in the close space. She wanted to be there with him. She hadn’t wanted Preppy Guy. She hadn’t wanted anyone else but him since the first night she’d laid eyes on him. Before that, she suspected she’d been waiting for Nicolai to come along. She hadn’t known it was him she was waiting for, but she’d been waiting all the same.

“Are you all right?” His rough voice rasped over her nerves, heightening her awareness.

How should she answer? She had so many questions. But they could all wait. There was only one thing that mattered, here and now.

“Desiree?”

She turned to face him. “I need you, Nicolai. Right now.”

He closed the distance between them in one stride. Cupping the back of her neck, he took possession of her lips. His tongue slid inside to caress her mouth with bold strokes. A shock wave of heat rippled through her body to her clit.

She shifted against him, pushing her hands beneath his T-shirt. Her fingers found the twin barbells piercing his nipples. Tugging lightly, she enjoyed his reaction while she nipped his lower lip with her teeth.

He broke away, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it. “Better?”

“You tell me.” She dragged her nails down his chest to trace the grooves in his abdomen. Leaning forward, she took one of his piercings into her mouth.

He hissed, pressing his hand to the back of her head. “God, that feels good.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” She unbuttoned and unzipped his fly before pushing his jeans down over his hips.

He trailed his fingers across her back, and the sound of her zipper rent the air. A cool breeze whispered across her bare skin. He slid her dress down her body and into a puddle on the floor.

He gave her thigh-high stockings, black lace panties, and matching bra an appreciative once-over. “Wild girl, you have great taste in underwear.”

His gaze made her hot, her core throbbing with desire. Her muscles quivered with the craving to feel him inside her. Reaching back, she unclasped her bra and let it fall. Her breasts hung heavy, nipples puckered with the need for his touch. Hooking her thumbs into her panties, she shimmied them down her legs and kicked them aside.

“Leave the stockings.”

His voice was gravel, rough with arousal. The sound sent a chill dancing across her skin. She felt bold, beautiful, like a woman who had everything she could ever want in the man before her. “It’ll be easier to get you naked if you lie down.”

Every movement he made was powerful. Muscles bending and flexing, he lay down on the soft floor. He braced his weight on his elbows, watching her with dark eyes full of fire.

She tugged his boots off and tossed them over her shoulder where they thumped to the floor. Grabbing hold of his pockets, she peeled jeans, boxers, and socks off in one long pull. Hard and hot, his cock bounced against his belly as it was freed.

“I’m naked. What now?”

The devilish gleam in his eyes sent a wicked rush of arousal through her system. He wanted to know what now? She didn’t even have to wonder. Straddling his hips, she ground her bare pussy across his shaft. Nicolai groaned and grabbed her hips to steady her rhythm.

“You’re so wet, wild girl. Hot and slippery and ready for me.”

His words drove her higher. Her movements slid the length of his cock against the hood of her clit. Friction built to a point just below pain, and her pussy clenched with the need to be penetrated. She closed her eyes against the onslaught, flinging her head back to ride out the pleasure.

“I want you. I need to be inside you.”

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she looked down into his face. His features were drawn tight with restraint. Every detail was precious, something to be cherished.

She shifted her hips, using her knees to lift her body. The head of his cock caught against her cleft, slipping into her wet opening and penetrating in slow, deliberate increments. She moaned at the sensation, her cry mingling with his deeper sounds of pleasure.

She moved her hands to his chest, fingers splayed against his piercings as she let him control the pace of their lovemaking. Every stroke sent him pushing hard against the sweet spot inside her body. She arched her back, wanting more and getting it with each plunge. She spun toward ecstasy, aware of nothing but the man inside her. She knew the swelling of his shaft, the pulsing of its head, the friction and thrust of each movement as she rode him toward orgasm.

He gripped her chin, forcing her to look down into his face. “Come. Come for me.”

As if she were waiting for his command, her body convulsed into climax. Heat swept through her limbs, her hips jerking with each wave of ecstasy. Beneath her, Nicolai roared, his back arching as he poured his seed into her body.

Weak with release, she collapsed on him, her ear pressed against his chest. The thundering of his pulse kept pace with her runaway heart.

He stroked one palm down her sweat-dampened back. “I owe you a hundred apologies.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love to hear an apology, but I think we’re probably even by now.” She lifted her head and propped her chin on her hands so she could see his expression.

Groping around above his head, Nicolai found a plush blanket and pulled it around her quickly cooling body. “Your brother explained your relationship to Harmon.”

“You mean the lack of a relationship?”

“I was such an ass.” His chest rose and fell beneath her body with a heavy sigh. “I just couldn’t understand why you’d chosen me.”

“And yet I keep doing it.”

He brushed his fingertips down her cheek, sending a thrill of delight through her body. “I didn’t follow you here tonight because you needed a babysitter. I just wanted to make things right.”

“About that—how did you know about this place?”

“Your brother told me where to find you.”

“But you knew this place. I get the feeling you’ve got some experience with the fine print. You knew Dante, and you knew his house rules well enough to get me out of a mess.” The idea of waiting for the other shoe to drop ghosted through her mind. But she was through thinking Nicolai was less. He was more. Much more.

“I’ve told you about Asylum before. When I told you about my gambling. I spent a lot of time here. Your brother didn’t know what this place was called, but he knows Dante Torres. Dante is the man he had to pay off to put me back on the straight and narrow.”

Her mind was busily running back through the conversation between Nicolai and Dante. “When he said you knew the rules better than anyone else?”

“He was reminding me of the night I lost Katie.”

“You were one of Dante’s ‘high rollers.’” The price he’d paid to get her out of the mess she’d created hit Desiree all at once. Her breath grew short, cutting through her lungs as she tried to process what she’d done. Tears stung her eyes, burning a path down her cheeks.

“Hey now, don’t cry.” Nicolai made a growling noise in his throat, rolling to his side and wrapping his body around hers. “I told you before, I’d go through everything again just to know you’d be on the other end of it all.”

“You hadn’t gambled since that night.” She choked back a sob. “And you broke your recovery because I went and did something reckless.”

His lips brushed across her forehead, but that only made her feel worse.

“You were right. I’m nothing but trouble.”

It felt good to cry, the tears releasing tension she hadn’t even realized she was carrying around. He let her vent, rubbing her back and murmuring something in a language she didn’t understand. Was he actually speaking Greek? The storm receded as quickly as it’d hit, leaving her with swollen eyes and that nasty hiccuping feeling.

“Do you feel better?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You told me from the very beginning that taking control of my addiction made me strong.”

She traced his jaw with her fingertips. Lying on their sides, face-to-face, she could see his strength etched in the lines of his expression. “It does.”

“I didn’t believe you until today.” A smile at the corner of his mouth. “I played one hand, and it went well—exceptionally well. But I have no desire to sit at another card table or play another slot machine ever again. The stakes are too high. You mean more to me than anything I could ever win, and I’m never going to do anything to screw that up.”