Wild Aces (5 page)

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Authors: Marni Mann

BOOK: Wild Aces
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It had to stop. Now.

I pulled my tongue out, sucking her lip between my teeth. Our foreheads touched as I breathed her in one last time. Her scent was fiercely seductive—dark as midnight and lustful like the taste of red lace against a wet pussy. Underneath her perfume, I swore I could smell that, too. I knew it was wet for me.

She wiped her finger across the bottom of her lip and fixed the gloss we’d smudged. I hadn’t been easy with it, but I already knew I liked messy on her, her mouth red and puffy because of me. It was sexy.

Anything would look sexy on her. Even that mask.

Especially
that mask.

“So, that’s why you wanted to do it,” she said.

“Do what?” It took me a second to remember her question.

“To bite me,” she breathed. “The answer you gave me was…perfect.”

“I’m not done showing you.” My hands pressed under her ribs, and she pushed into them. “Give me your phone.”

She dug inside her purse, unlocked her phone, and handed it to me. I opened a new contact and added my first name and number. “I’m leaving for Vegas in the morning. If you want me to show you how much I really want to bite you, call me.” I slipped the phone into her hand, sliding my fingers down the center of her palm. I felt her shiver. “Good-bye, Brea.”

She moaned, and my cock throbbed again.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving
now
.”

My lips grazed her shoulder as I made my way to her mouth, and the taste of pineapple lingered there. My tongue memorized the feeling of hers and how the curve of her mouth fit against mine.

When my hands started tracing the sides of her tits, I knew it was time to pull away. “I have to.”

Her eyes urged me to stay, and it was so fucking tempting.

“Business stuff.”

“Trapper—”

I stroked her cheek, brushing her lips one last time. “You have my number. Use it.”

I headed to the door. Derek was standing near it in his ridiculous plaid mask.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I said. “It was a great party.”

“Thanks for coming. I hope you had a good time.”

Thoughts of Brea’s mouth rushed through my head and how it would feel to have my tongue fill it again. That wasn’t the only hole of hers I wanted to fill with my tongue or my cock.

“I did.” I shook his hand as I walked out. “We’ll talk soon.”

When I reached the end of the block, my phone chimed. A text from Adrianna lit up the screen.

Adrianna: It’s done.

Me: Are all three at the compound?

Adrianna: No. Just two.

I stared at the number as I pulled off my mask, knowing that meant something had gone wrong.

Motherfucker.

Me: Where’s the third?

Adrianna: Things didn’t go as smoothly as I planned.

This wasn’t what I wanted to hear the night before I left for Vegas. I needed to keep my mind on the tournament while I was there without being distracted by Adrianna and the trouble she might have started.

Me: Do I need to meet with the seller?

Adrianna: No. There’s nothing you can do. They won’t negotiate.

Me: Everyone has a price.

Adrianna: Apparently, these people don’t.

I had yet to meet a person who couldn’t be bought or paid off in some way. We vetted these sellers; they were chosen because of their need for cash. If they didn’t take the deal, it was because Adrianna hadn’t pushed hard enough, hadn’t offered enough. She hadn’t done the job I’d expected and demanded of her.

Maybe she wasn’t up for this.

I hated that the thought even crossed my mind. I knew how much she put into this, how she lived and breathed and put herself at risk for the compound. I hired her a year before the business was up and running. I’d known her for most of my life, and I knew she’d be the best person to help me run it. We planned the operations together, our methods for importing and exporting. She helped me design the compound, the bedrooms inside, the bathrooms, and kitchen. She even helped me staff it, and now, Adrianna and the assistant she had hired were the only ones I trusted to do the pickups.

A similar situation had happened once before. It was in our early days, and it was the reason we’d figured out how to strengthen our methods of researching the sellers. We couldn’t afford for it to happen again. But now, it had.

I didn’t believe in mistakes when it came to this business.

I had trained Adrianna not to believe in them either. She knew better than anyone what was at stake here. She had lived it…through me.

I hailed a cab and climbed into the backseat and gave the driver the address to Aced. Then I texted Adrianna.

Me: I’ll be there in a few hours.

Adrianna: I’m sorry.

I knew this was destroying her. And I knew she was up for this. She was as invested as me. But she was able to feel the work we did while I buried my emotions so deep, I couldn’t have found them with an excavator.

Me: I know. Me, too.

“That’ll be fifteen dollars and seventy-five cents,” the cab driver said.

I dropped a twenty on the front seat, rushed out of the cab, and cut down the side alley. I didn’t want to deal with all the bullshit that would be going on in the front lounge tonight—the players talking game, the girls looking to score, the waitresses all wishing me good luck in Vegas. I needed to talk to Roman, and then I needed to get the hell out of there.

I punched my code into the back door security system and used both keys in the double-lock. Then I knocked on Roman’s door at the end of the hallway. “It’s me.”

“Get in here.” He looked me over when I stepped inside. “What are you all dressed up for? It sure as shit ain’t gonna help your game play.”

“I just came from a party, and I’m not playing tonight. Just came in to talk to you.”

“That explains the outfit. But it doesn’t explain the glitter all over your mouth.”

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. There was a smear of lip gloss smudged over my skin.

“Who’d you fuck tonight, Trapper? What’s her name?”

“Does it matter?”

He sat upright. “You’re not one of the guys who likes to get his cock wet the night before a tournament. You keep it in your pants and stay focused…so, yeah, it fucking matters. Who is she?”

“Someone I met at the party. Her name is Brea.”

“Oh, hell.” He picked up his office phone. “Darlin’, have one of the girls bring me two Crowns. One with ice. Make them both doubles.”

“Bringing out the hard stuff?” I asked as he hung up.

“She has a name. She’s not just
some girl
. That’s different for you.” He was right. “We could both use some hard stuff, I think.”

I looked down at the glitter on the back of my hand. I liked seeing the remnants of her mouth on my skin. I imagined the same shimmering streaks running down the length of my dick.

“She has my number, too,” I said.

“Christ.” Roman checked the monitor when there was a knock at the door. “Cover your mouth, lover boy. Drama’s about to walk in,” he said. Then he yelled, “Come in!”

Shay’s scent hit me as soon as the door opened. It was the last fucking scent I wanted to smell tonight, and she was the last fucking person I wanted to see. I kept my eyes on her as she walked across the room, too unpredictable to ignore. She’d dyed her hair since we’d broken up. It was now cherry-red, and she had too much dark makeup around her eyes.

“Set ’em over here, darlin’,” Roman said.

She carried the glasses to Roman’s desk and set one in front of each of us—mine with ice, his neat. Her muddy eyes were focused on me the whole time. There were other girls at Aced who had been on their knees, looking up at me with a dark-rimmed gaze, eyes I’d never seen without a pound of makeup cluttering them. But I’d seen Shay’s bare and closed while her head rested on my pillow. I’d seen them filled with tears when I told her it was over between us. Now, I was seeing them angry and sullen. I’d hoped she’d find another job, so I wouldn’t have to see them again.

Apparently, she hadn’t.

She set her ass on the edge of Roman’s desk, resting the tray over her stomach. She pointed at my mouth. “Nice glitter.”

I wiped it again with the back of my hand. I didn’t need this shit tonight.

She laughed. “The color looked real nice on you,” she said. “You should have left it.”

“Don’t start, Shay.”

“I’m not starting anything,” she said, smiling. “I’m delivering your drinks, like my boss asked me to.” Sarcasm couldn’t hide what was in her eyes or her fake smile or the texts she sent every few days. She wanted me back. She made that known every chance she got.

Roman reclined in his chair, crossing his shoes over his desk, like he was watching some goddamn match. Shay was known for fighting dirty, and when she was done, she liked to cool off with my cock.

“You’ve done your job,” I said, knowing if I didn’t end this now, she would try to start a fight. But I wasn’t going to fight with her tonight, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to fuck her. Shay and I were done. “Now, you can see yourself out.”

Her lip curled, and she dropped the tray to her side, so she could push out those fake tits of hers—tits I hadn’t wanted her to get, but I’d still paid for.

She stepped away from the desk and paused at my side, leaning in and whispering, “I know you miss my pussy. No bitch out there can fuck you like I can. Glitter it up all you want, but you’ll come back to me.” She moved her hand to my chest, but I caught it before it could go any further. “That’s it, baby, grab me harder.” I released her, knowing where she was going with this. “You know how rough I like it.” Her hand slid down the back of her shorts, tracing the crack of her ass.

“Get out, Shay.”

She huffed, making sure her tits grazed the side of my shoulder as she walked by, and slammed the door.

“You need to fire her,” I said, running my aggravated fingers through my hair.

“Can’t. She’s good, and good around here is hard to find. Plus, the players like her…even more now that they know she’s available.”

“She’s only staying here to make my life hell.”

“Sounds about right.”

I didn’t want to drink anything hard tonight. But the Crown tasted good, and the burn left a calming wake as it moved down my throat.

“You know I’ve had my share of crazy ones,” Roman continued. “They fuck so good. That’s why we keep them around. That’s also why we always go back to them.”

“I’m not going back.”

“Girls like Shay don’t take no for an answer. They go down kicking and screaming.”

Shay’s pussy had consumed my mind in the past, but it wasn’t something I needed to be reminded of, and it definitely wasn’t something I’d ever be inside of again. Good pussy wasn’t enough to keep me around.

I set the glass on his desk. “Keep fucking Victor’s wife, and you’re going to find yourself in the same mess.”

Roman laughed. “Don’t I know it. But I can’t fight off pussy like you. When the little bitch speaks to me, I come running. And I run coming.”

I leaned back in my chair and laughed. Roman hadn’t been faithful to his wife since I’d known him, but he gave her everything she wanted, and he was a devoted father.

“At your age, it’s a good thing you haven’t lost your hearing.”

“Pussy is the one thing I
can
hear.” The only times he smiled this hard were when I won tournaments and when we talked about sex. “You hit that shit at the party? Don’t tell me it was her cunt that was covered in that glossy glitter.”

I told Roman just about everything—the girls I’d fucked around with at Aced, the ones I met outside the club. Things with me didn’t usually stop at just kissing. But if I told him that was all we’d done, he’d start with the questions.

I wasn’t up for questions tonight.

“I’ve been watching the tapes from one of the tournaments,” I said, deciding it was time to change the subject. “Baylor’s more reckless than I thought. If he’s buying his way in, like you said, he’s got to be hungry for some solid action and more calculated with his bets. Or he’s just stupid.”

Roman lifted his feet off the desk and held the tumbler to his lips. “I see how you’re playing this. Subbing pussy play for card play. Here’s what I’ll do…” He looked at the monitor that sat next to his computer, his eyes telling me what I could already guess. “I’ll give you a break from the Brea interrogation but only because we have a tourney to discuss. But next time I ask, be prepared to answer.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll keep her around.” He turned the monitor toward me, the image of one of the private rooms now taking up the full screen. It was Shay, naked from the waist up, her tits bouncing with each thrust, while she sat on that poor motherfucker in a reverse cowboy.

“There aren’t any rules about waitresses fucking the players.”

He zoomed in just as the guy leaned to the side and reached for her clit. It took me a second to realize who it was.

“You’re right,” he said. “There aren’t rules about that. But there are rules about fucking the staff.”

Roman’s head bouncer, Ruddy, wasn’t Shay’s type at all. She was fucking him to put on a show—a show she knew I was watching. She was staring right at the camera as she rocked, her fingers squeezing her nipples, her teeth biting her lower lip. She knew exactly what she was doing and whom she was doing it for.

She didn’t seem to understand that I had no desire to watch anymore.

“Call me nosy,” Roman said, “or call me concerned about your playing. Call me whatever you want. But when I ask about Brea, you speak, or you’ll be seeing a whole lot more of Miss Cowboy. The choice is yours, kid.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Roman sucked down the last of his Crown. “Oh, hell…this Brea already has you hooked worse than I thought.”

He wasn’t wrong.

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