Chapter 6
6
ALLEGRA
I ’m fucked.
The moment his eyes met mine across the restaurant, it was certain.
Oh, hell…
I made a huge mistake not leaving immediately after the tournament. As soon as I confirmed my winnings were deposited into my account, I could have made a break for the limo, climbed in, ridden away, and left Coen Hawke in the rearview where he needs to stay.
That would have been the wise decision.
That would have been the smart thing to do.
That would have been what was expected of me.
But my feet didn’t take me in that direction.
I couldn’t bring myself to just walk away—again.
Some masochistic part of me wanted— no, needed —to know what he would do and how he would react after what amounted to six hours of a cock tease with what I was doing with my hand at his thigh.
The icy glint in his eyes as he approaches me now, weaving through the restaurant toward the back booth where I sit, slices through me, giving me all sorts of second thoughts about my decision to stay.
People always talk about self-sabotage, and the way my body reacts the closer he advances, I’m starting to understand what that phrase really means.
I swallow thickly as he finally stops, eyeing the drink in front of me on the otherwise empty table.
He raises a dark brow over those wintry eyes that were so warm when I saw him in his hotel room a week ago but switched so easily to their current state the moment he saw me at the tournament table today. “Mind if I join you?”
I can’t exactly deny him.
Not when I chose to stay. Not when I chose to stay specifically for this —to see how what I did affected him. To witness the reaction from a man who prides himself on never reacting to anything.
Lifting my drink, I offer him a coy smile, like my fingers weren’t just brushing against his hard cock on the table for hours on end. “Of course.”
Bad idea.
Every part of me knows it, especially those parts that are tingly and throbbing already.
Coen slides into the booth that can easily seat four people, pushing all the way over next to me, until his thigh brushes mine. The heat radiating from him into my bare leg makes me bite back a groan.
He inclines his head toward the menu sitting on the edge of the table. “Did you order yet?”
I nod, just as the waiter returns, having witnessed Coen’s arrival.
Coen motions to the menu and my glass. “I’ll have whatever she’s having—the food and the drink.”
Something tells me he isn’t going to want a pomegranate martini and roasted lamb…
I glance over at him. “How do you know you’re going to like what I ordered?”
He eyes me, those sensual lips of his curling slightly, but that iciness doesn’t leave his gaze. “I trust you.”
Liar.
The truth is, neither of us should trust the other.
This isn’t the world where you make friends.
This is the world where you make enemies.
And while my feelings for the man sitting beside me are certainly becoming more and more complicated, I would never make the mistake of thinking he’s a friend.
That would be very dangerous.
As would giving in to the attraction I have to the man I should keep at arm’s length.
I take a sip of my drink, gulping it down, trying to quell the heat rising in my body, and not just because of his closeness.
Oh no…
That look .
He may be putting on a show right now with the pleasantries, but he is burning mad about what just went down at the table.
The waiter moves away, and Coen takes the opportunity to slide his arm around the back of the booth now that we’re alone, allowing it to brush against my exposed shoulders. That scent of ocean air and waves cocoons me as he leans in and dips his head so his lips feather over my ear. “That was quite a show you put on back there.”
I grin at him. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head, brushing his thumb across his bottom lip as he examines me with a heated look. “It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
I knew that, too.
But this is our game.
Isn’t it?
I expected him to come in raging at me. I anticipated fury and hatred. But that isn’t what I’m getting. The only thing he’s throwing at me is a confusing jumble of mixed signals.
“What do you want, Coen?”
He shifts even closer, until his entire left side presses into mine, his arm wrapping around my shoulders tightly, practically dragging me onto his lap. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I want, Allegra…”
I turn my head to fully face him, and though the icy chips still remain in his gaze, something else lies there, that same fire and need that rolled through me when he kissed me in his room. “I thought I made my position on that clear.”
He chuckles low, the sound making his body vibrate against mine. His gaze travels over the other diners. “About as clear as mud. You said it would be a bad idea.”
I take a sip of my drink, wishing it were stronger to help me manage the truly unhealthy way I’m reacting to his closeness. For hours, I toyed with this man, and I managed to remain mostly unaffected by it. But it’s taken less than a minute for him to have me trembling and needy with just a look and a few words.
It’s a very bad sign for my resolve.
“It would be.”
“Why?” He places his right hand on his thigh, and I am keenly aware that’s where mine sat for hours, toying with him. “Because this is the game that you play, finding the player likely to win, and then rattling him so you can swoop in and take the prize.”
I allow the corner of my mouth to curl slightly. “That’s part of it.”
“And what’s the other?”
The fact that I haven’t felt this kind of attraction for anyone in a very long time…
I don’t say the words.
I can’t.
But the heat crawling up my neck and over my cheeks betrays me.
A slow, satisfied grin crosses Coen’s face, and he slides his hand across my knee. Those rough calluses dragging over my smooth skin send a shiver through me, making me inadvertently press into him tighter. “You want to hear what I think?”
Yes.
No.
Fuck.
The fog filling my head seems to grow thicker as he brushes his thumb up and down my skin softly.
“Do I have a choice?”
God…
I hate how breathy and needy that question came out, but I can’t even seem to find a way to control my own breathing with that simple, intimate touch of his frying my brain cells.
His warm breath fans my cheek. “I think this has all been one big game to you, only you never intended it to backfire.”
“I don’t think it backfired at all. I won.”
The evidence is sitting in my bank account as we speak.
He nips at my earlobe, making my pussy clench as I squirm. “I wasn’t talking about the goddamn card game, Allegra, and you know it. You played with fire, and now you’re burning alive.”
His hand glides up my thigh, and dammit , I shift in my seat. Only instead of closing my legs to the potential intimate touch, escaping the intended intrusion, instead of reaching down and tugging his hand away, I shift them open slightly.
That dull ache in my clit screams for him to keep going even as my head chants what a horrible, horrible mistake this will be.
Coen’s voice dips low, taking on a sultry tone that almost makes me come on the spot. “I want you to tell me something, Allegra.”
“Wh-what?”
His fingers dig into my thigh, pinning it in place. “How many men have you done this to?”
The first time we met flickers through my head, when he accused me of being a professional. This accusation isn’t that far from it, nor is it far from the truth.
I could attempt to lie, but I don’t believe Coen Hawke would be satisfied with that. And he deserves the truth, considering what I put him through today.
“More than I should have, and fewer than you think.”
Coen pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods slowly, watching my face as his hand slides even farther now, playing with the hem of my dress, only inches from where my body craves his touch. He feathers his fingertips there, tickling me and making me squirm. “How many of those men did you take to bed, Allegra?”
I tighten my grip on my martini glass, then bring it up to take another long swallow of my drink, suddenly needing the chilly liquid and the alcoholic courage.
But I don’t look away from him.
I can’t.
If I do, he’ll take advantage of the momentary weakness he will see it as.
“Would it surprise you if I said none?”
His eyes widen. “It would. Because you’re very good at this, getting under my skin, distracting me in a way no one else ever has.” A little thrill rolls through me at his confession. “But the thing is, Allegra?—”
Coen’s hand slips farther up now, only an inch from the apex of my thighs.
Half an inch.
Even higher.
The busy casino restaurant around us.
The people laughing and eating.
The waitstaff hustling from table to table.
So many people who could look over and see exactly what he’s doing.
But somehow, that only heightens the anticipation, builds the tension.
God, he’s going to keep going.
I should stop him.
Stop this.
I should slide out of the opposite side of this booth and walk away, just like I did when he caught up with me in Atlantic City and things got way too intense.
I should, I should, I should.
Any person in my position would.
Their self-preservation instinct would kick in and send them running. But I’m frozen in place, completely entranced by the man beside me who has a wicked gleam in his eye that terrifies me as much as it thrills me.
I find myself creeping closer to him, leaning into his body, into his touch, opening even farther, wanting the very thing I’ve been dreaming about since I walked away from him last week. Walked away from what I knew this would be—brutal and toxic but also so fucking good.
He feathers his lips over mine—not a kiss, a tease.
And then his hand finally cups me between my legs.
I try to bite back the groan at the sensation, but it slips out against his mouth, and he issues a low, dark chuckle. That single sound confirms how much trouble I am really in.
“I want to know…what’s the endgame here, Allegra? What’s your goal? Because I know very much what mine is.”
I manage to let out a breathy sigh. “What’s that?”
He moves his mouth over to my ear. “I want to see if your cunt tastes as glorious as I think it does. And I want to fuck you until you can’t walk out of here. If I had my way, I’d do it all right here on this table.”
An embarrassing whimper slips from my mouth, and he adjusts his grip on the most intimate part of me. Cupping me harder. Almost possessively. As if what he holds in that hand now belongs to him.
And I have suddenly lost the ability to tell him it doesn’t.
“And ultimately, Allegra, I want to bring you to your knees the way you have me.”
* * *
COEN
Instead of being scared or trepidatious, Allegra shudders against me, her grip on the bench beneath us tightening until her knuckles whiten.
Her thighs close slightly against my hand, but not in an effort to stop me. If anything, she seems desperate to get me to touch her—to do exactly what I just threatened.
She would let me eat her out in a Michelin Star restaurant.
She would let me bend her over this table and fuck her in front of all these people.
And I would be tempted to do just that, if the woman weren’t still being difficult.
I press the meaty part of my palm against her clit, rolling it through the thin strip of fabric that covers it, feeling exactly how fucking wet she already is. Her little display at the table today got her all worked up, too. And something about that draws a grin across my face.
“You didn’t answer my question, Allegra. What is your endgame?”
Absolutely nothing else is going to happen until that question is answered to my satisfaction.
Because I can’t figure this woman out.
Since the moment we met at that bar in Atlantic City, the chemistry between us has been off the charts. And even after realizing what she did in Monaco—knowing she set me up from the get-go—I still couldn’t stop myself from wanting her, especially when she very obviously seemed to return my desire. Yet she ran. And she continues to circle around me like a damn vulture, looking for any opportunity to fuck with me—mentally and physically.
The fact that she went that far at the table today proves there is no line she won’t cross.
But what she doesn’t know is that there isn’t one I won’t cross, either.
As far as I’m concerned, any lines that did exist were obliterated the moment she set her sights on me and decided I was her target. It’s open season. Free rein to play dirty.
And one thing the Hawkes know is how to come out on top with someone who believes they have the upper hand.
I swirl my palm again, and she sucks in a sharp breath and swallows thickly, her throat bobbing. Her half-lidded gaze locks with mine. “You mean, besides winning all the tournaments?”
She knows damn well I don’t mean the fucking card games.
Pressing against her clit harder, I rock it in a way that makes her gasp. “Yes, beyond that.”
“I…well…” Another shift of my hand. “Fuck…” She squeezes her eyes closed. “Wh-what if I said I don’t know?”
I still my hand and search her face, and her thick, dark lashes flutter to reveal her fathomless gray eyes that seem to morph from the color of a cold winter day to the silver when she’s turned on. The shimmer now brighter than the stars…
For several seconds, I look for the lie, for proof that she’s playing me again or hedging when she doesn’t want to admit her intent.
But all I see there is truth.
Maybe for the first time since I met her.
“I believe you.”
She seems to relax a little against me, her body releasing the tiniest bit of the tension she’s been holding since I first walked into the restaurant.
“And it’s okay not to always know what you want, Allegra; at least, that’s what my family keeps telling me.”
I draw my middle finger up along her damp seam.
Her eyes squeeze closed, those impossibly long lashes spread out against her now-pink cheeks, and she shudders, shifting against me, her left hand tightening on her drink on the table, the right digging into the leather bench seat between our legs. “Coen…”
My name comes out half-whimper, half-plea.
To do what?
Because the way she looks at me, it’s as if she’s torn between running from me right now or straddling me. I’d prefer the latter, but if she truly wants the former, I’m not the type of man who would try to stop her from leaving.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She gulps and shakes her head, her eyes fluttering open. “No, but I should—God, this is a bad idea…”
There they are again.
Those words.
Bad idea.
I use my finger to pull that wet strip of fabric to the side, then drag the tip along the soaked lips. She holds her breath, her body stilling completely at the contact, as if primed to shatter if I move any more.
My cock strains against my zipper, aching to be in place of that damn finger now that I finally this woman in my arms and part of me sunk deep in her heat after a week of torture. “Just because something’s a bad idea doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.”
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
That’s what I told myself when I tried to win back the money I had lost before Atlas ever set foot in that ring and only ended up losing more. That’s what I told myself when I placed the bet against Atlas, knowing that if he ever found out, there would be horrific fallout. That’s what I told myself when I fled the wedding reception and contacted Satriano to tell him I knew I was at his mercy and that I was willing to do anything to protect the Hawkes, confident he’d take advantage of that.
And she’s right.
This isn’t just a bad idea; it’s a terrible one.
One that could have long-reaching ramifications when it comes to my play.
Allegra is the only woman, the only person at all, who’s ever been able to take me off my game, and this is the most dangerous time for it to be happening.
I can’t afford to lose another tournament.
I can’t afford any delay in paying back Satriano.
Today was supposed to put me over the top, to get me to the point that I could finally send it to him and be done with at least that part of my debt. I might have learned what he had in store for me instead of constantly wondering what sinister deeds he might demand I do on his behalf.
He won’t be happy about any delays, and I’m going to have to face the consequences if he decides to act in the interim.
Whatever they might be.
But with my hand on Allegra’s cunt, my finger brushing along her wet heat, the way her body vibrates and clings to me, I can’t seem to say no.
And neither can she.
Red flags fly, completely filling my vision, but they don’t stop me from slowly pushing the tip of my finger inside her. She groans, pressing her forehead against mine, her lips falling open.
I chuckle low as I slide into her more and more until I’m fully settled in her slick heat.
Fuck does she feel good…
My cock twitches, begging to be released from its confines, to be allowed to plunge deep and hard into this heaven.
I kiss her temple, her cheek, her lips, as I slowly drag my finger out and thrust it back in, grinding my palm against her clit as I do. “Don’t forget where we are, Allegra.”
She jerks back, her eyes flying open as she scans the restaurant, apparently just remembering that we’re on full display at a very high-end restaurant in a very busy casino in the heart of Macau.
I pull my arm from around her shoulders to grip her chin, watching that silvery gray dance with her arousal. “But you’re a poker player…considering what I know you could hide at that table, I’m confident you can keep anyone around us from knowing what I’m doing between your legs.”
Her eyes harden to steel at my challenge.
And that’s what it is—a challenge.
She seems to thrive on them, so knowing I’m watching for her to break, for her to let loose some sound that draws someone’s attention, will only make her more determined to keep it contained.
The faster I glide in and out of her, the harder I grind against her slippery, engorged clit, the more intense her stare becomes, those eyes rippling like molten silver.
Her jaw hardens under my grip as she clenches it, struggling to keep from reacting as I increase the pace, but when I slip a second finger inside her, her lips part on a silent gasp. The pink that already covers her cleavage and cheeks darkens, and her thighs clench around me.
I continue to work her up, building her tighter, until her body is so coiled and taut she’s dangerously on the edge of cracking. Right there on the precipice. Capable of seeing the end.
And fuck is she beautiful like this.
Wanting.
Needing.
Desperate.
Exactly as I dreamed it would be since the moment I kissed her.
The waiter reappears with my drink and sets it on the table, startling her out of my hold on her face slightly. “Is there anything else I can get for you right away while you wait for your food?”
I shake my head and offer him a smile. “I think we’re good.”
Allegra attempts some sort of response that comes out more like a moan, but either he doesn’t notice or is well-trained enough to ignore it when he knows the type of tip we’ll be leaving him for this meal. I keep thrusting into her, even as he examines us with a raised brow, then slips away from the table.
With her this close, my cock threatens to unleash the same way she’s about to.
I shift my hand to get my thumb in position against her clit, and she bucks at the change in pressure. My lips to her temple, feeling her entire body vibrating, I curl my fingers deep inside her, into that perfect spot.
Allegra can’t fight her gasp, and I chuckle low as I reach for my drink, then take a long, slow sip of the pink martini.
Mmm. Pomegranate.
But I’d much rather be drinking her down.
I’m tempted to drop beneath the table and get my face between her legs, but I have other plans.
Ones I don’t intend to deviate from.
Her hips start to roll against my hand, but she somehow keeps the rest of her body still, so that anyone looking won’t be able to see what’s happening thanks to the long tablecloth.
I return my arm around her shoulders, tugging her against me and nipping at her ear. “Are you going to come for me, Allegra?”
There isn’t any way she could last longer.
God knows I can’t.
She nods as I swirl my thumb rapidly around her clit. Her pussy starts to clench and tremble.
So fucking close.
I can taste it.
I can smell her arousal coating my hand.
I feel her need for release in her tense body and clenched thighs.
I kiss her gently, letting my lips linger over hers, then pull my arm free again to tilt her chin up until her eyes, half-hooded and soaked in lust, meet mine.
“You’ve been fucking with me since the first moment we met.”
She doesn’t try to deny it.
Just holds my gaze as I continue to work her to the brink.
“And I want you to know something, Allegra. Something that everyone eventually learns.”
“Wh-what’s that?”
A grin spreads across my face as I hold her stare, knowing full well what I’m about to do. “Nobody fucks with the Hawkes.”
Her eyes flare as I yank my hand out from between her legs, raise it up to my mouth, and slide the glistening fingers into it. I groan as the flavor of her arousal dances across my tongue.
Rich.
Sweet.
Fucking addictive.
Like I knew it would be.
I adjust my cock to try to conceal the raging erection before I slide out of the booth and walk away from Allegra without looking back.