Epilogue
Massimo
Six Months Later
Margot shuffles the deck, cards falling out and landing on the table. She’s a goddamn amateur but she’s got some killer good luck. Her fingers slip against the cards, but she’s determined, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as she concentrates.
“You’re holding them all wrong, that’s why you have no control over them,” I murmur, smirking when she glares at me.
“You’re supposed to be teaching me, not making fun of me,” she huffs, but the way the corner of her mouth twitches tells me she’s not serious.
I lean back in my chair, watching her struggle with a kind of satisfaction I should probably be ashamed of. She has no idea how much I enjoy watching her work through a challenge, refusing to back down. It reminds me of the beginning of our marriage and how she challenged me at every turn. She still does from time to time.
I reach across the table and pry the cards from her hands, my fingers brushing against hers. “Come here,” I command, patting the couch cushion beside me.
She stands, straightening her silk bathrobe before walking around the table. I expect her to sit next to me, but she lifts a knee, straddling my lap.
I ignore the way my cock twitches as her warmth settles over me. This morning, she confessed how sore she was and so I am refusing to satisfy my needs. Hers will always come first.
“Lesson one is about control,” I tell her, placing the cards in her hand and adjusting her grip. “If you look like you don’t know what you’re doing, people will eat you alive.”
She uses her free hand to run a finger down my chest, and I bite the inside of my cheek. “People like you, you mean?”
I grin, holding her gaze and sitting up to dust my lips over the pulse beating at the base of her throat. “Especially people like me,” I growl.
She tips her head back, bucking her hips against me before I pull away and she huffs out a breath. Folding her arms over her chest, she pouts. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”
Shaking my head, I reply, “You should never keep something like that from me. If you’re hurting, I want to know.”
We fall quiet, a silent battle of wills taking place as we hold each other's gaze. She knows I’m right.
Margot drops her attention to the cards in her hand, holding them up between us before she looks me in the eye. “Are we actually going to play, or do you plan on giving me a lecture on how to shuffle cards first?”
The corner of my mouth twitches, and I tap her hip, indicating for her to move. It took some time, but we’ve taken the game that nearly ruined us and used it to rebuild our foundations.
“Let’s play.”
I deal the first hand out onto the coffee table as she walks back to her side. The lapels of her robe fall open, teasing me with a sliver of her breast. She picks up her cards, and I shift my attention to her face. Her expression changes, revealing just the slightest hint of something before she schools her features.
“You have a tell,” I say, tossing a chip into the center.
She looks up at me, her fingers tightening on her cards. “What?”
I tap my fingers against the table, the corner of my mouth lifting in a smirk. “You hesitate when you get a good hand.”
Margot tenses, and my chest blooms with pride when I see the determination that I love so much about her flow through her body. She adjusts in her seat, gripping her cards with more confidence. “I do not. I hesitate because I don’t know what I’m doing.”
I bark out a laugh. “If you say so.”
She narrows her eyes. “I do. But let’s say it was a tell, how do I fix it?”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “You lie to yourself until you’re convinced you have a dud hand.”
Her mouth falls open slightly, and she scoffs. “That’s it? Pretend my cards are bad?”
“That’s it.” I shrug.
“Okay,” she calls, eyes locked on mine as I flip the next card.
She might be playing to win at poker, but I’ve already won. Having her . Calling her my wife. Knowing that she’s mine—completely, irrevocably. That’s the only victory that has ever truly mattered.
The End