22. Meri
CHAPTER 22
MERI
I’m not jealous, just possessive.
“He’ll get over it.”
I focus on the feel of Poker’s hand settled on my hip. It’s been another two weeks since the last note, and we’re no closer to figuring out the mystery. Tonight, Conrad and a few of the club brothers are providing security, but apparently, not everyone on my security team is happy with this arrangement.
“Was Solomon okay with it?” I ask, wanting to forget about Malcolm’s ire.
“Both he and Grant were fine,” Conrad assures us. “As for Malcolm, he’s beating himself up for letting that guy, Diego, slip past him to your office, and he feels like he’s being punished.”
“He’s not being punished. As for letting Diego slip by, that was all of you,” Poker states, asserting his position as the man by my side and in charge of my safety. “Don’t think for a second that either of us thinks otherwise.”
“Poker, please,” I whisper.
He squeezes my side reassuringly. “I know, I know. You can handle this.”
My lips curve into a smile. While I appreciate his protection, it’s not his place to condemn my people.
“Where do you want us, Meri?” Screamer asks when he joins our group of three.
“Mistress Green,” Conrad corrects. “Here, she’s Mistress Green.”
“My bad,” Screamer says. “Where do you want us, Mistress Green?”
I shake my head. “If you, Ghost, Jackyl, and Python could spread out at the perimeter of the room, that’d be great. Conrad will cover the door, as the players are familiar with him. Poker, you’ll be at the table as a player, and Journey will be at the bar. Oh, and Tracer and Stunner will be flanking me.”
The men nod, and Conrad and Screamer walk away with their marching orders.
“You okay?” Poker asks me when we’re alone.
“Yeah.”
And I am for the most part. I don’t think anything will happen during one of my games, but all this planning and security is weighing on me.
Poker lets his gaze travel from my face, down the length of my body, and back up again. “Have I told you yet how stunning you look in this dress?”
I’m wearing my emerald green one with the high slit and deep plunging front. It makes me feel sexy, and feeling sexy is a confidence booster.
“Oh, only about five times since I put it on.”
“As soon as we get back to your place, it’s coming off, understood?”
My clit throbs. “Yes, sir.”
“Fuck,” he rasps. “C’mon.”
He practically drags me to my office. Kicking the door shut, he spins us around and slams me against it before shoving his hand past the slit in my dress.
“You’re so wet,” he growls, as he slides my thong aside to plunge a finger into my heat.
“Fuck me, Poker,” I beg. “Please fuck me.”
He quickly undoes his pants and pushes them and his boxer briefs over his hips, and they bunch at his knees. In the next second, he’s thrusting into me. I stretch around him, his cock snug in my pussy.
“So fucking good,” he says with his face pressed against my throat.
There is nothing slow or loving about this, but the fast, hard, desperate pace of it is exactly what I need. Poker presses a thumb to my clit, rubbing fast circles with his thumb, and I detonate.
My pussy spasms, and his cock pulses with our shared release. As soon as we’re both done, he kisses me. Now this, this is slow and loving.
“We should probably get out there,” I say when I ease away from him.
“We should.”
“I want to do that again.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, babe,” he teases. “We’ll be doing that again as soon as we’re home.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Entering the main room, I see that all the invitees have arrived and are sitting at the table waiting for me. None of them brought a plus one, which makes security easier because that means no unknowns.
“‘Bout time,” Martin mutters when I reach my place. His gaze shifts to Poker when he takes his chair. “Should he really be playing since it’s clear the two of you are together?”
“If you have a problem with it, feel free to leave,” I say.
“I can keep my personal life out of the game,” Poker adds, addressing Martin. “Can you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the man demands, bristling.
Poker shrugs. “It means exactly what you think it means. Is there a reason you feel threatened that I’m still here while bangin’ the host?”
“Poker,” I admonish in a harsh whisper.
“No, I don’t feel threatened,” Martin says. “It’s just a conflict of interest. But if everyone else is okay with it, then so am I.”
“Anyone else have a problem with it?” Poker asks, shifting his gaze from one player to the next.
“The only problem I have,” Ms. Rogers begins. “Is that you’re with her and not me.”
“Careful, Ms. Rogers,” Poker says. “The last woman who hit on me ended up on the receiving end of Mistress Green’s wrath.”
The woman has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, I think I can take her.”
She turns in her chair and flattens her palms on Poker’s chest, and I see red.
“Get out,” I bark.
Poker grins, and Ms. Rogers glances at me. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I snap. “Get the fuck out.”
When she makes no move to obey, Stunner and Tracer take menacing steps forward.
“You heard her,” Stunner says.
“But I paid to be here,” she argues.
“I don’t give a fuck if you gave up your first born to be here,” I snarl. “You touched my man, and I won’t stand by and let it pass. Get the fuck out, and never come back.”
It’s then that Journey comes from his position at the side of the room and practically yanks her to her feet. “Shoulda done this the easy way, lady,” he mutters.
I return my attention to the others. “Now, is everyone ready to get started?”
Fortunately, that incident is the only one of the night. Poker throws a few hands to appease Martin, but it’s Ms. Graven, who walks away the clear winner for the evening.
“You really know how to turn me on,” Poker tells me as we walk to his matte black Camaro after everyone else leaves.”
“You’re talking about me kicking out Ms. Rogers, aren’t you?”
He grins. “What can I say? Jealousy looks good on you.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I’m not jealous, just possessive.”
“Hmm, me too.”