Chapter 2
Alex
Iadd a little swing to my hips as I walk to the bar, certain he follows me. Turning around to see if he does would be silly, but I’m pretty sure I feel his energy radiating from behind me.
Buying men drinks isn’t something I do, especially after I’ve emptied their pockets, but something about this man urged me to do it.
So I asked him for a drink.
This is so far from what I had planned for tonight.
My goal was to check the place out, ask around if anyone saw Sophie.
I’ve been worried sick about her for two months until I found that flyer on the coffee table in her apartment.
I noticed it right away, trained to keep my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.
The note said she was okay, but I still had no clue where the hell she actually was.
The flyer was from this casino, which could have been a coincidence, but it was the only clue I had to follow.
The night started well. Harmless fools were falling right into my charm, and I was just about to dig deeper with my questions. Then he arrived.
I reach my hand to pull out the bar stool, but he’s quicker.
My lungs forget to breathe before I climb onto the stool, placing my little black clutch onto the bar and crossing one leg over the other.
His eyes stick to my leg peeking out from under the high slit, and a sense of satisfaction blooms in my belly.
He moved me off my axis when he came to the table, and my competitive side came out swinging.
He orders his drink, pulling me out of my thoughts.
The server looks at me next. “Umm, I’ll have the same.”
Deep brown eyes of the man sitting next to me widen under the thick lashes, a smirk lifting his lips. “Really?” There’s a hint of an accent present, something about the way he rolls the r.
“Yup. Is that a problem?” I raise the black chip I took as a souvenir. “I’m the one paying, after all.”
A smile overtakes his face, one that shows his gorgeous white teeth. “No problem at all.”
The server returns with two shot glasses filled with see-through liquid. He man lifts his glass in the air, and I do the same.
“To luck,” he says, still smirking.
“To those who need luck,” I respond with a taunt, even though my good-luck crystal sits heavy in my purse.
But as I tip the drink into my mouth, I realize I’m the one. I’m the one who needs luck. The alcohol burns its way down my throat. It tastes disgusting and burns like hell, not stopping even after it reaches my stomach.
“Good?” he asks with a disbelieving look.
“Yup, perfect,” I lie, making him chuckle. He orders a glass of water, and I chug it down. The taste still lingers.
“My turn,” he says, pulling a wallet out of his jacket. “What’s your poison?”
“Can I get a cranberry vodka?”
He lets out a low chuckle, the worried wrinkles etched into his face slightly relaxing. The server brings me my drink, sliding another disgusting shot in front of my companion.
“So, do you make it a habit of draining money from poor, unsuspecting men?”
I take a sip, savoring the taste, and smack my lips before answering, “I don’t know; do you make it a habit of getting drained?”
His laugh is deep and manly, and it buzzes through me in a way that screams danger. “I wasn’t talking about me, sweetheart. I knew what you were up to since I sat down.”
It’s true. He did. It was obvious from the glare in his gaze and the sneer on his lips. “Don’t act like you’re above it. You acted like you had no idea what you’re doing when you first sat down.”
“At least I wasn’t using my good looks.”
“That’s because you don’t have any good looks,” I blurt out, and he pushes his tongue into his cheek.
“I don’t?” He stands up taller, seeing right through me.
He knows how hot he is; he’d be stupid not to. The longer the silence stretches, my eyes forced to notice him, the more my cheeks heat. “Whatever,” I blurt out, rolling my eyes.
He shoots me an arrogant smirk. “Tell me, then… why does a girl who plays as well as you go around acting like she doesn’t know what she’s doing? You could probably play somewhere for real.”
His words hit a little too close to home, so I respond with a taunt again. “I’m hardly a girl.”
His gaze sweeps over me hungrily, and I wish the fabric of this dress was thick enough to withstand my nipples.
“You’re right. I guess you’re all woman.
” His words spill like warm whiskey, brushing against the bare skin of my shoulders.
I’m scared to look down, but I could bet all the chips I’ve won tonight the hardened nubs are showing. “Answer the question, sweetheart.”
Because I need to fly under the radar, slips out of my mind, but my tongue is luckily slow enough to stop it. “Because I want the money, what else?” I shrug, feigning nonchalance.
“You could get money in torn sweats and a baggy shirt.” He’s still staring right through me. Like he can see through my lies and straight to the ugly truth. The thought makes my eyes water.
The best defense is offense, right? “It’s more fun this way, isn’t it?” I paste on a smile, trailing the collar of his suit jacket between my fingers.
He sucks in a breath. I guess I have the same effect on him as he does on me.
“And who doesn’t like some fun?” My hand trails lower, to his stomach, but he stops it, grabbing my wrist.
“Careful there.” His voice is so low that it’s barely audible. “Don’t go placing bets you aren’t planning to pay.”
“Don’t worry. I always pay my bets.” My gaze snaps up to his, and breath whooshes out of me.
His eyes are hooded, practically black, and his nostrils flared.
There’s a harsh set to his jaw, one that shows self-control.
A flicker of fear lights up inside of me, the anticipation of his control snapping drowned out by a wave of lust. It’s a hot flash, really.
A scorching surge of heat that travels through me while he pins my body with only his stare. I wonder what his hands could do.
I glance at them, noticing his large fingers and the veins popping out on the back of his hands. My throat swallows. My nipples tighten even more as moisture pools between my thighs.
Maybe a night of fun wouldn’t hurt.
I can go back to looking for Sophie tomorrow.
His hand snakes out to lift the black chip in front of me. With his thumb, he sets the chip spinning. “Well, if I were to place a bet on a night of fun, what would you do?”
I pretend to think for a second, though my mind is already made up. “Depends. How big is the pot?”
He bites his inner cheek, stopping his face from smiling. The motion makes a dimple pop out, making him even more devastatingly handsome. “What do you think?” The confidence in his voice tells me all I need to know.
“I guess I’m calling then.” The corner of his lip twitches as he gets up from his seat and puts out his elbow. It takes me a second to realize it’s for me. “Wait. I should pay.” I turn around, but he presses a hand to the small of my back.
“It’s already taken care of,” he whispers into my ear, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. He starts toward the exit, and I follow, my mind too blurry to question it.
As soon as we exit the main floor through the sliding glass door, he presses me to the wall, caging me in with his hands. His eyes search mine in a silent question, and I nod my consent.
I don’t know which part of him reaches me first. His lips or his hands that drop to my waist, pulling me flush to him.
His body is hard, but his lips are soft as they battle mine.
My arms wrap around his neck, holding on for dear life while his mouth devours mine.
He grinds his pelvis to mine, and the outline of his stiff cock rubs over my clit, eliciting a small moan out of me.
He doesn’t waste a second before slipping his tongue inside my mouth.
His five o’clock shadow rubs over my face.
Fuck, it would feel good between my legs.
My clit pulses with the need to be touched, but he draws back, his hair mussed and mouth covered with my lipstick.
He runs the back of his hand over his mouth, and somehow, even that feels like foreplay.
“What? Over already?” I tease, my voice shaky.
“Keep the sass up, and I’ll be forced to punish you,” he rasps.
I say nothing else, not because I don’t want to, but because my mouth is stunned shut, my body tingling from his words while he leads us outside.
The crisp night air touches my skin as soon as we leave the building.
He immediately takes his jacket off and places it on my shoulders.
The jacket is comically large on me, but it offers protection from the cold.
The valet brings him his car keys, and I don’t question the fact that he never asked for his car to be brought up.
It’s a sleek, black G wagon. I guess he won’t be mourning the money he lost tonight anytime soon.
He opens the door for me, and my heels click on the pavement as I make my way to the car.
This is a stupid decision. Getting into a car with a man I don’t know.
I clutch my purse, feeling for the traces of my gun and my trusted crystal to bring me comfort.
Even though the gun is a plastic, 3D-printed one, it was a bitch to bring into the casino.
The bullets would set off the metal detectors at the entrance, so I had to stuff them into my bra and load the gun after entering to go undetected.
Still, I have it on me at all times. My heart races, yet as soon as I drop into my seat, he tips my chin up with his fingers.
“I can take you home if you’d prefer.” I shoot him a puzzled look. “To your house. Alone. There’s no pressure.”
“Oh.” His words unravel the knot in my belly, relaxing any doubts I had. “No, thank you.”
He still watches me as if searching for something. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Just one cranberry vodka and the filth you ordered.”
“Good. I need you to be sober for this.”
I’m left stunned while he circles the car to the driver’s side.
The engine rumbles as he starts it, and we ride in silence to his place.
Of course, his place is in one of the most expensive neighborhoods, with top-notch security and an underground garage.
We enter an elevator that looks like something out of a five-star hotel.
The wooden siding with molding, the golden chandelier on the ceiling and the mosaic floor all make it seem like a tiny ballroom, rather than a metal box that takes you up and down.
I keep my breath steady, and my nerves ramp up again; the ride stretches for what feels like an eternity.
Finally, we step into the hallway, and he leads me to one of the mahogany doors.
Pressing his thumb to the lock, he turns to me. “You should wait here just for a second.”
“Wh…” I say, but he’s already inside. My mind races with possible scenarios. Is he so messy that he needs to tidy up? Are some illegal things going on? A sharp bark snaps me out of my thoughts.
A dog.
I release a relieved breath and follow him inside. He’s squatting, a massive rottweiler licking his face and wagging its tail like crazy. The image makes my ovaries flip. As soon as he spots me, the dog freezes in place. The man grabs the collar and pulls him back.
“Sorry,” he says. “Persephone is not really friendly to newcomers.”
Persephone.
I take a step forward, careful not to intrude on her territory. But as soon as I spot the waggle of her tail, I crouch down to give her doggy cuddles.
Persephone drops to the floor, turning to her back. I lift my dress slightly, so it doesn’t tear, and scratch the dog’s belly, my face twisting into a wide smile.
The guy whose dog I’m petting clears his throat. “Want a drink?”
Funny. I know his dog’s name, but I don’t know his. An urge to ask him crashes into me, but I stuff it down. Asking for his name would mean sharing mine, and it’s something I prefer not to do. “Sure. Water works,” I respond.
Persephone whimpers under my touch, and I use the time to look around his place. A massive open space surrounded by a wall of windows overlooking the city’s skyline. Dark hardwood floors. A large royal blue sectional. Top of the art kitchen. The place is a designer’s dream.
A thought pokes through the lust-induced haze of my mind. I should have taken more of his money.