Chapter Ten
Truth be told, Portland found blackjack tedious as hell. Unfortunately, casinos were the perfect place to conduct business. No one batted an eye over large sums of money changing hands and law enforcement didn’t dare interfere with casino business. No one saw anything on the gambling floor.
Lucas slid into the chair to Portland’s right. The lanky redhead dropped a black bag at Portland’s feet.
Portland didn’t bother looking inside. “I take it things went well.”
Lucas motioned to the dealer for cards. “After some convincing, it seems Langley had equity in his home.”
Portland grunted. He honestly didn’t care if Drue ended up dead or homeless. Money was owed. Someone would find it.
Lucas played his hand before speaking again. “What finally convinced you to collect? He’s been deeper.”
Cold jealousy poured through Portland’s veins. “He’s gotten a little too comfortable taking advantage. I doubt he has anything left after the house. My good graces are gone.”
Lucas nodded. “Especially since his son is off limits.”
Portland ground his back teeth for a moment. The way Court had watched Heath during that game still made his eye twitch. He needed to ramp up the pressure. Court had to come crawling back. “Maybe not any longer. The moment Drue’s back in my debt, we’ll see what Court will be wiling to do.”
Lucas looked his way. He stayed silent until Portland met his stare. Lucas looked perplexed. “What do you mean? Court married Heath. Noir will never let you touch him and I’m sure as fuck not ending up like Rico. You’ve never seen Noir in a frenzy. I might be crazy, but I’m not stupid.”
Portland stopped listening after hearing Court married Heath. His pulse pounded in his ears. “He married Heath?” Even Portland heard the dead note in his voice.
“Yeah.” Lucas looked worried—like he thought Portland might strike him. “Yesterday at Noir’s estate. It was a small ceremony, but I thought you would’ve heard by now.”
The urge to tear the entire building down was nearly blinding. Portland had never felt so much helpless rage in his life. He needed to make someone pay, but Court was forever out of his reach.
A delicious scent wafted over him. “Excuse me.” The soft voice had Portland’s head whipping around.
A man leaned past him, wearing a dealer’s uniform. His focus was locked on the table’s dealer. “Sorry. I left my bag.”
The dealer glanced below the table and found a small, clear plastic tote bag. He passed it the interloper's way.
Brown eyes swung his way. A sassy smile appeared. His gaze dropped to Portland’s mouth and returned to hold his stare. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to invade your space.”
He looked too much like Court at the wrong time. Except he didn’t look a damn thing like Court, but Portland’s brain still locked on him in the same toxic way. He was the same build and close to Court’s age. That was enough. The guy turned away as quickly as he appeared. Portland snatched up the bag at his feet and stood. Someone had to feel his wrath. With Court out of his reach, anyone would do. A slight brunette who smelled too good for his own good would do as much as the next person. Portland would get his pound of flesh. It didn’t matter to him who paid.
Heath didn’t want to change Court. He enjoyed having Court on the sidelines of every little ridiculous sport he played. Heath liked knowing he had the hottest spouse cheering him on. This was fun too.
Heath leaped out of the way as Court lobbed another tennis ball his way, hitting it as hard as possible. Court laughed, enjoying the torment.
“You’re supposed to be practicing your swing. Why are you running from the ball?”
Heath ran in a circle, acting completely ridiculous just so he could listen to Court’s laughter some more. “I don’t want to practice today. I want to have fun.”
Court threw a ball and hit him with it. “Then why are we here? I thought you wanted to win this weekend’s tournament.”
“I just want to play all day.”
Court snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”
Heath stopped running and locked eyes with Court. “Am I?”
“Oh, no.” Court looked every bit as worried as he should.
Heath was in the mood to be dumb. “Oh, yes.” He prowled toward Court.
“Shit.” Court wasn’t quick enough.
Heath jumped the net and tackled him. Peals of laughter tore through the air as Heath headed for the building, carrying Court. Heads turned their way. Some people smiled while others just shook their heads. Heath didn’t care. He paid his country club dues just like the next guy. While he had stopped paying his parents’ membership so they wouldn’t run into one another, he knew his constant antics always got back to them. Heath was no longer worried about old money’s reputation. Happiness ruled everything he did now. Nothing mattered as much as his husband’s happiness.
Someone held the door open for Heath. He didn’t look their way. “Thank you.” Heath scanned the hallway. Locker rooms were on the right. Racquetball courts were on the left. Heath veered into the locker room. A guy mopping the floor eyed Heath, mouth agape, as he carried a laughing Court inside. Heath nodded at him like he didn’t have his husband tucked under his arm. He paused and eyed the room. A door stood open with cleaning supplies filling the shelf.
Heath turned the worker’s way and handed him a folded bill from his pocket. “You saw nothing.” He carried Court into the broom closet and closed the door.
Darkness engulfed them. He set Court on his feet. “Here we go. Five minutes in the closet. What should we do?”
Court crowded his space. “I don’t know. If memory serves, you should press your erection against me, so I know you’re willing.”
Heath leaned against the wall and snagged Court’s hips. He hauled him forward, so Court felt how hard Heath was for him. “I stay this way with you around. You should know that by now.”
With an evil chuckle, Court shaped Heath’s erection through his shorts. “Yum. Is that for me?”
There was so much love swelling Heath’s chest, he thought he might burst. He never knew where to go with the overabundance of pure joy. All he knew was he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. “Everything is always for you.” Even to his ears, Heath sounded aroused. He leaned in to take the kiss he wanted.
Instead, Court dropped to his knees. Heath remembered this part too well. With the slightest tug of clothing, Heath’s dick was in Court’s mouth. In some circles, five minutes in the closet was known as five minutes in heaven. That was how it felt, except there was no way he would last that long. There was talent and then there was raw hunger. Court wanted Heath’s cock exactly where it was. That was such a mind fuck. Heath bit his bottom lip to keep from moaning as he rode Court’s tongue. Court kept the perfect pace, humming around Heath’s erection like he tasted the most delicious food. Heath never stood a chance. In no time, he gasped as his soul flew. He saw stars as pulse after pulse of ecstasy shook him. The wall kept him upright while he soared through the bliss.
Court kissed his way up Heath’s body, fixing his clothes as he went. When he reached Heath’s lips, he spent a moment exploring Heath’s mouth while waiting for Heath to catch his breath.
Court’s mouth moved to Heath’s ear. “No more practice today. It’s time to go home where I can fuck you as roughly as I want while you scream my name.”
Goddamn. He wanted that. “I’ll give you anything.”
Court’s sexy chuckle rumbled through the air. “Damn right you will.” He opened the door, letting light flood inside. As they stepped from the closet, two men halfway through changing looked their way. They stared as Court towed Heath toward the door. Heath smiled like an idiot. It was out of his control.
“Lucky motherfucker.”
Heath’s smile grew at the quietly spoken words mumbled behind them. Damn right. Heath had made all the mistakes and spent way too many years trying to please all the wrong people. He had been enslaved by his family and station. Now he owned the whole fucking world in just one person. He would never fail Court again. It was time for a happy life.
Keep an eye out for the next Atlantic City’s Most Wanted, Duped .
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