28. Lennox #2
The room was silent except for the occasional hoof stomp or tail swish. As cards were dealt, I could feel everyone’s eyes dart between Bishop and me. I watched enough games tonight to know the general order of things. Two cards face-down for the pair of us and five community cards in the middle.
Carefully, I peeled back the corner to see what I had.
Two aces off the bat, which had to be good, right?
Weren’t they supposed to be the highest cards or something?
Glancing up, I noticed Bishop smirk as he checked his.
He studied the first three cards and turned over cards in the middle—a three, seven, and a jack of spades.
“What’s your call?” he asked.
I had no idea what I was doing, but I said, “I’ll raise,” and tossed another twenty in.
“Doubling the pot, huh?”
“You could always fold,” I said, smiling sweetly. I couldn’t lose to him. If I did, I’d never live it down. I hoped I could get by faking it until I made it because that’s what I’d done most of my life when I got into a tough spot.
“Naw. I have a few bucks left. I’ll match.”
I reached for the fourth card and turned it over. The queen of hearts. He was staring at the cards like they’d personally offended him, which maybe they had. Or maybe, just maybe, this was his attempt to throw me.
When his eyes lifted to meet my own, he gestured toward my money pile. “What’s it gonna be this time, high roller?”
“Same as before,” I said, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “I’m not scared.”
“You should be,” he said. “You’re welcome to fold anytime.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You wish.”
Bishop chuckled as he reached for the last unturned card. A two of fucking diamonds. He tapped his fingers along the table, blowing out a breath in a slow, steady exhale.
“Last chance,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll even let you go without saying shit about your hold’em skills.”
God, he was infuriating. I pointed in his direction, wagging my finger. “This isn’t going to work, you know? I’m not going to suddenly decide to listen to you only for you to be bluffing.”
“If you think I’m bluffing, then call it.”
That was the problem. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. I’d rather go down swinging than roll over like a dog with a bone. As it was, Callie seemed to have already wandered over to Bishop’ s side. She lay down at his feet, her tongue lolling out the side.
“Let’s just fucking do it.” I flipped the cards over, ever aware of our audience drawing closer. They stared at both hands, and Bishop grinned so wide I thought he was going to combust. He clicked his tongue. “Ooh, one pair. Guess that beginner’s luck might be wearing off.”
“What do you have then?” I snapped, leaning over. He was holding a four and a queen of spades.
“A flush. Same house, see?” He reached for the pot, plucking the cash and setting it aside. “Well, this was fun?—”
“Again,” I said, picking up the cards and setting them in front of him. “Winner deals, right?” He nodded. “Good. So, deal.”
Bishop picked up the cards and began shuffling. It came as no surprise that he was good at it. After all, I knew how talented those fingers were. No one had ever made me come like he had.
We played the next three games hard and fast, not stopping for pleasantries or small talk. So far, Bishop and I were tied at two wins a piece. Our last hand would be the tiebreaker—a winner-takes-all kind of bet.
I chewed on my cheek, watching Bishop deal out one final time. If I’d lost to anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared. Losing to him after all the shit I’d talked was out of the question.
“Alright, last one,” he grumbled, raking his hand through his hair. “And then everyone goes the fuck home and gets some rest. I don’t wanna see a single yawn tomorrow.”
He was met with a chorus of “Yes, Boss” as they settled in to watch our final showdown. Sitting between us was a five of clubs, a four and five of diamonds, and a nine and Jack of hearts.
Nerves fluttered as I peeked at my hand, letting my bravado slip just a hair. Bishop, on the other hand, looked like a kid in a goddamn candy store. He was waiting for me to place my bet. I mean, I didn’t care about losing the pot. But I wanted to antagonize him a bit longer by making him wait.
“Come on, Lennox. The cards aren’t gonna change just because you’re staring at them. Make a bet so we can get this over with,” he snapped, patience fraying.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with taking my time.
Heard some guys like that?” Bishop’s cheeks flamed beneath his beard, but the cowboy-sized shadows hanging over us hid them well.
“I guess I’m all in?” I pushed the rest of my winnings in the middle, watching Bishop’s eyes flash with something that looked a hell of a lot like unease.
“Want to show me what you’ve got there, killer?”
“Not particularly,” I said dryly. “But let’s get this over with.”
I flipped my hand, holding my breath as Bishop’s eyes darted from my cards to the two he had. “Holy shit,” Keith laughed, slapping Bishop on the shoulder. “She fucking won.”
“What?” I asked, looking down at the cards I’d dropped on the table. “I did?”
“It’s the luck of the draw,” Bishop muttered, tossing his own. “Doesn’t mean anything.”
I pouted, trying like hell to keep the excitement out of my voice. “Aw, Bishop. Are you upset the cards didn’t favor you this time?”
If Bishop had rolled his eyes any harder, I swore they would’ve popped out of his head. He stood, downing his beer before tossing it in the trash. “Time to wrap it up, boys.”
They started gathering their things and cleaning up as if waiting for his orders. I moved to fold up the table, but Bishop stopped me. He bent down, leaning into my ear, and whispered, “Not you. Let’s go, killer.”
“I—I should help clean up,” I stammered. “I mean, I helped make the mess after all.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no, you don’t. You may have started this war, but I’m gonna fucking finish it. Outside. Now. ”
“Jeez, okay!” I said as he poked my side. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boys!”
There was a chorus of goodbyes as we walked outside.
“Pack up and get outta here,” Bishop called over his shoulder.
He ushered me around the barn and toward the woodshed.
“Remember what I said about tomorrow. Y’all did this to yourselves, staying up so late when we’ve got shit to do in the morning. ”
“Are you always this much of a killjoy?” My giggle turned into a yelp as he lifted me up and pushed me against the small building, concealing me from prying eyes. His mouth found mine in the darkness, swallowing my moans as I ground down on the bulge in his jeans.
“I’ve been wanting to punish that fucking mouth all night,” he said breathlessly, pulling away only to trail kisses down my neck. “Christ, you drive me nuts.”
“Maybe you should shut me up then,” I challenged, panting as hard as he was. There wasn’t a single thing he did that didn’t absolutely consume me. I was always searching for some reason to get his hands on me somehow.
“You’d like it too much,” he bit out. “You don’t deserve a fucking reward right now. Not after I sat through an hour and a half of the world’s most grueling poker tournament with a hard dick in front of a bunch of employees.”
I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t stop myself. The sound bubbled over my lips and into the world before I knew what happened. “Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?”
I shrugged or tried to. Bishop slid his hands up my side, lifting my wrists until they were above my head. “What if I did?”
He hummed, low and soft in my ear. “Then I’d have to add it to your list of offenses. At this rate, I don’t know if you’ll ever come again. ”
“Wait, what?” I said, trying to break his hold, but it was too strong.
“Bad girls don’t get fucking rewards. And you, killer, have been a pain in my ass all night, taunting me with that bratty mouth.”
“Uh, coming is a right, not a reward. If you don’t, I’ll do it myself,” I huffed.
“I don’t give a shit if you slide a finger into that pretty pussy, sweetheart. Wanna know why?”
“I’m dying to know.” I rolled my hips, loving the way his body stiffened against mine.
Bishop leaned in, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Because you’ll be wishing it was me—that I was the one strumming your clit and making you come so hard you saw fucking stars. How long do you think you could go without begging me to fuck you?”
Suddenly, Bishop stepped back, and I was falling. He steadied me, the stupid prick. I wish he’d let me fall. Maybe it would knock me out of whatever haze he had me in. “This is cruel and unusual punishment, you asshole,” I said, pulling out of his hold.
He tipped his head back and laughed. God, I loved when he did that. It wasn’t often, but when it happened? It almost made me forget why I was mad at him in the first place.
“You know I’d give you whatever you want,” he said, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers. I stared down at the contact, fighting the urge to pull him back into the darkness. “All you have to do is ask.”
“Ha ha, nice try.”
Bishop tugged me out of the woodshed and toward his cabin.
We took the long way, strolling beneath the moonlight like two lovers without a care in the world.
He tucked me into his side the moment I shivered.
Sometimes, he’d press a kiss to the top of my head while I talked.
I was burning up with all the physical contact.
My body was a goddamn live wire, and it was only a matter of time before I burst into flames.
By the time we stumbled into his bedroom, the word “please” had left my lips, and we were tangled between his sheets.