Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1) (3 page)

The other two men were younger. Jasmine
guessed they were in their twenties. They wore faded denim and
t-shirts and reminded her of young Internet entrepreneurs. Perhaps
that was what they were going for. They were handsome and a little
scruffy in an attractive way.

Her stomach tightened as she looked them over
and they looked her over in turn. So many eyes, and already she
sensed the welling of desire in the room, an almost tangible weight
in the air that flowed between her and them.

One of the young men shut the door as Geoff
waved a hand in her direction.

“This is Jasmine,” Geoff said. “She’ll be
serving us tonight. Say hello to Jasmine, guys.”

The four men said hi, their voices a rumble
that sent shivers up her back.

“Hi. I’m here for whatever you need,” she
said, her voice breaking at first then steadying. “Drinks, snacks.
Whatever you want. Just ask. I’ll deliver. The table is all set up
if you want to have a seat. I’ll take your drink orders when you’re
ready.” She finished in a rush, perhaps having over-rehearsed her
little speech in the hours leading up to the big moment.

She stood back and the men filed past her to
the felt-covered table. They found chairs and settled in, Geoff
turning to Jasmine and asking for a scotch, neat. The other four
men quickly added their orders and Jasmine swayed over to the bar,
doing her best to remember everything.

While she worked, Geoff told the men the
rules of the game.

“This is No Limit Texas Hold ‘Em,” Geoff
said. “$100,000 buy-in. $300 and $600 blinds with $100 ante, as
we’ve discussed. You lose it all, you can buy in for more of
course. I, for one, am more than happy to take all the cash you
want to drop here.”

Some good-natured ribbing followed.

Geoff opened a fresh pack of cards and began
shuffling. “Since the dealer is a no-show, we’ll have to rotate the
deal. Agreed?”

They agreed.

Jasmine heard the sounds of plastic poker
chips being tossed onto the table. They were beginning the game.
She finished their drinks by the time the first round of bets were
placed.

She stood silently behind the bar for a
moment, savoring the anticipation of the certain realization of one
of her oldest fantasies.

When she was in college, she sometimes picked
up extra cash on the weekends waitressing at a Native American
casino outside of town. The best gigs were attending to the players
in the private, poker cash-games. Tips from exultant, winning
players could top hundreds of dollars an hour, if you were lucky
enough to be chosen to work the rooms.

She stayed focused whenever she had the
opportunity to serve the high stakes games, concentrating on
avoiding mistakes since excellence would earn her more gigs in the
private rooms. She didn’t stand around daydreaming about what might
have gone down behind those secured, closed doors. Not back then,
anyway.

Since she’d been reading erotic fantasies in
The Ladies Naughty Book Club, she’d recalled those private poker
games. And the next thing she knew, she was writing a whole new
script for what might have happened to a lone waitress and a group
of high-stakes gamblers, mostly wealthy businessmen and the
occasional professional player. Oh, plenty. That’s what might have
gone on. Plenty.

She’d certainly given herself plenty of
pleasure over the months, enacting her fantasy in her mind, living
and reliving the details. Oh yes, she’d had pleasure.

And now, here she was, ready to take that to
a whole other level. She breathed deeply to steady her nerves, then
she picked up her tray and headed over to the men.

Jasmine delivered the drinks, self-conscious
of the men eyeing her as she slipped in next to them, one after
another. When she set Geoff’s drink on the table, he absently said
thanks and patted her on her ass as she turned away.

One of the younger men, whose name she soon
learned was Kyle, smiled at Jasmine. “You’d better watch that guy,
Jasmine. He’s a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen.”

She returned his smile then sent a saucy look
over her shoulder at Geoff. “Undoubtedly. But only if I complain
about it. And I’m not the complaining type.”

“Is that so?” Geoff asked with raised
eyebrows.

“That’s definitely so.”

“Well, fellows, this game just got more
interesting.”

The men grinned at Jasmine. She told them
she’d get their snacks then sashayed off to the kitchenette,
assuming they were watching the swing of her hips as she went. If
the silence in the room was any indication, then yes, they were
watching.

She returned to the main room in a matter of
minutes, toting several plates of hors d’oeuvres and a stack of
small plates and napkins on a tray. The men called out bets and
played out their hands while she served them, taking care to bend
over them deeply and deliberately.

She brushed her hand up the forty-something
man’s arm after she laid his plate beside him. “I hope you enjoy
the treats.”

His gaze didn’t waver from her bountiful
cleavage. “Oh, I already am, Miss.”

“Call me Jasmine, Sir.”

“Fine, Jasmine. And you can keep calling me
Sir.”

A warm flush spread up her neck. Mmm. Yes, he
was most assuredly a Sir. He had an appealing smattering of gray
hair at his temples. She flashed on an image of him tying her hands
to a bedpost. She hadn’t been reading all those BDSM stories for
nothing. “As you wish, Sir.”

He reached out and trailed his fingertips up
the outside of her bare thigh and traced the skin at the hem of her
skirt. “Do you always wear such short skirts, Jasmine?”

“Not always, Sir.”

“Pity. They suit you.” His gentle strokes
sent shivery sensations down her legs.

“Hey, Sir,” said Kyle. “It’s your bet.”

Sir didn’t bother reviewing his hand. “I
fold,” he said, tossing his cards into the center of the table.

A couple of men snorted, and the play moved
on. As did Sir’s fingers. His fingertips glided along the hem of
her skirt, around to the back of her thigh. She held her breath as
his hand slid under the fabric, sought the edges of her
panties.

Now, he traced that silky edge. His gaze rose
to meet her own. “You say you’re not the complaining type.”

“That’s right.”

“What if I were to ask you to remove your
panties for me? I think we’d all enjoy you serving us while we
picture how naked you are under that little skirt. It would please
us all very much, and it’s harmless, don’t you think?”

She pretended to ponder his request. Then she
nodded. “I’m here to make you happy. I don’t see any problem with
you using your imagination.”

“Splendid!”

Jasmine stepped back. Sir and the rest of the
men watched as she demurely lifted the sides of her skirt and
hooked her panties under her thumbs. Keeping her pertinent parts
hidden, she slowly lowered her panties to the ground. Once she
picked them up, she dangled them on a finger in front of her
attentive audience.

“Is it everything you hoped it would be,
Sir?”

Sir gave her a slow, sexy smile. “It is,
Jasmine. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She tossed her panties onto
a nearby table. “Does anyone need anything?”

Geoff raised his chin and gestured beside his
chair. “I dropped my napkin. If you wouldn’t mind ...”

She strolled over and saw the napkin on the
floor. She kneeled down in a dainty movement, keeping her rear down
and legs together, in short, not giving him what he wanted. With an
innocent expression, she held the napkin up to him. “Here you
are.”

“Thanks so much.” The corner of his mouth
twitched. He took the napkin, touching her hand in a lingering way.
Then he returned to the game.

From the conversation that rose during the
play, she learned that the other man in a suit, the one close in
age to Geoff, was named Michael. He was blonde, tall, and lean, and
sent her hungry looks whenever he thought she wasn’t looking at
him. She enjoyed the obvious desire in those beautiful blue
eyes.

She walked over to Michael and leaned down
next to him. Her voice was quiet so as not to interrupt the other
men who were bantering over their play. “I thought you might need
something. What can I do for you?”

He glanced at her face, then down at her
cleavage displayed so near to him. “I’m finding part of your
uniform unappealing.”

She frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Can
it be fixed?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.” He held out his hands.
“Do you mind if I make an adjustment or two?”

“Oh no. Go right ahead.”

He reached out and headed straight for the
buttons on her blouse. In a few quick motions, he unbuttoned her
shirt half-way down her torso. The tight shirt gaped open and
displayed most of her breasts, including a full third of each
areola.

He eyed the result but wasn’t satisfied with
it, and he rapidly undid the remaining buttons. He tied the shirt
ends together under her breasts, revealing her toned midriff, then
he adjusted the fabric so that her breasts were almost fully in
view. In fact, a slight tug on the loosened fabric would have been
all it took to completely reveal her breasts.

He looked over his handiwork, a finger
traveling along the curves of her revealed chest.

She swallowed hard, didn’t have to look
around to know all eyes were on her.

“I think,” Michael said, “I can live with
this ... for now anyway.”

She nodded. She suddenly felt a hand sliding
up her thigh and smoothing over her bare ass cheek. She turned her
head. It was Kyle, grinning widely.

Jasmine stood up straight and allowed Kyle to
touch her at will. She trembled as his fingers approached her slit,
but never actually touched her there. He was a tease and she loved
it.

She also loved the way the other men were
quieter now, how they didn’t know whether to look at her nearly
bare chest or to try to x-ray vision under her skirt to reveal what
Kyle was doing.

Geoff was obviously struggling to keep the
men focused on the game, to give Jasmine the full fantasy she
requested. He had to remind them repeatedly when it was their turn
to make a bet, or tell them they hadn’t put in their ante.

And it wasn’t like Geoff wasn’t having
difficulties of his own. Jasmine noticed him repeatedly shifting in
his chair, obviously trying to relieve the pressure growing between
his legs.

She had her own pressure growing down below.
Her mouth was slightly open and her breath came in increasingly
shallow bursts. Kyle squeezed her ass and stroked over her hip, ran
down her thigh and up again. He teased the edge of her skirt,
lifting it slightly, toying with uncovering more and more
flesh.

This was heating up, and fast. Maybe too
fast.

Geoff cleared his throat loudly. “I can
appreciate your fascination with our lovely server, gentlemen, but
we have a game going here and I, for one, intend to play it.”

The other men jerked their gazes away from
Jasmine and turned to Geoff, several of them looking irritated.

Geoff shuffled the cards. “So, if Jasmine’s
up for it, I have an idea how to handle this tricky situation.”

Kyle dropped his hand from Jasmine’s ass.
Pity, she thought. However, she was more interested in what Geoff
was about to propose.

“I think we need to bring some order to this
thing,” Geoff said. “Easy enough. I suggest that whoever wins a
hand, is given the option of passing some time with Jasmine, here
at the table, lasting the length of the next hand. Then the winner
of that hand can entertain the lovely lady. And so on. Make
sense?”

The men nodded, looked over at Jasmine with
no small amount of expectation in their eyes.

“Jasmine?” Geoff asked.

Her palms had gone damp. This was all Geoff’s
idea. They hadn’t discussed this when she talked to him about her
fantasy. Well, his idea sounded like it had serious promise.

“I’m willing,” she said.

The men seemed to sit up a bit straighter
after her answer.

The man in his twenties who was dressed
similarly to Kyle (his name, she learned, was Sean), leaned forward
in his chair. “When you say ‘pass some time’ with Jasmine, what
exactly does that mean?”

Geoff sighed. “It means you can work it out
with her, if you ever get the chance. The way you’re playing, you
never will.”

“I was distracted,” Sean said. “Now there’s a
reason to pay attention. Deal the cards.”

Geoff riffled through the deck one more time.
“Here we go then.”

Jasmine stepped back and perched on a bar
stool, avidly watching the men play. She privately admitted some
disappointment when Geoff folded early in the hand. By the turn
bet, Sir and Kyle had folded also. It came to a showdown between
Michael and Sean at the river.

Jasmine recognized the aggression in Sean’s
play. She’d seen it before in young men who learned to play the
game on the Internet. Sean wanted to push Michael off the pot.
Minutes ticked by as they debated their moves. Michael eventually
surprised Sean and called his bet.

Michael was the victor with a flush. He raked
his winnings into a sloppy pile in front of him then looked
straight at Jasmine. “I believe the spoils belong to me, no?”

Her stomach tightened and a thrill fluttered
in her chest. She walked up next to Michael, who wasted no time in
reaching out and untying the bottom of her shirt.

“I’m so glad I won,” he said. “This style
didn’t suit you at all.” He slowly peeled back the shirt and
revealed the entirety of her pretty breasts, her nipples already
straining, perky.

She shrugged out of the shirt and let it fall
to the floor. Michael pushed his chair away from the table a short
way and patted his lap. Jasmine sat down sideways. He put an arm
around her waist, and his free hand cupped her breast.