Chapter 17 #2
She hesitated for only a breath before squaring her shoulders. “Deal.”
The game was quick, her eyes darting from my hands to her cards, determination tightening her features. When she finally slapped her cards down and realized she’d won, a triumphant smile broke across her face.
I let the corner of my mouth curl, hiding the fact that I’d played my hand deliberately weaker. I wanted to see that fire in her, wanted her to believe for a moment that she could beat me.
“Looks like I win,” she said softly, her confidence threading through each word.
“Yes,” I drawled, leaning back in my chair, my gaze never leaving hers. “For now.”
I watched Tessa savor the small, private victory and felt something like approval knot with the possessive pull in my ribs.
Let her taste it; let her think she could take me.
It made her more dangerous, more tempting.
I let my fingers toy with a chip, rolling it between thumb and forefinger, slow and deliberate.
Around us the room hummed on, but the rest of the world narrowed to the set of her jaw, the way her lashes dipped when she blinked, the small rise of her shoulder when she shifted in her seat.
“Drink?” I asked, voice casual, though the question was a holding pattern, a way to stretch the moment. When she nodded, I signaled for two glasses and ordered something sharp.
The next round would be different. I’d stop letting her win little things.
I’d test the edges she’d shown me, press until the line between defiance and surrender blurred.
For now, though, I let her confidence sit between us like a tiny flame and I kept my hands off it, savoring the inevitability of what came next.
I set my glass down and let the smile slide away like a curtain. The easy, indulgent version of me left the room—replaced by the part that liked order, dominance, results.
“Next round,” I said. No invitation in it, only command.
This time I didn’t blink when she matched my bets.
I didn’t let a muscle give away my play.
I watched her the whole way, mapping the little tells she didn’t know she had: the way her throat worked when she was about to bluff, the tiny flare of her nostrils when she held a good card.
When the cards hit the table and mine beat hers clean, I let the chips slide toward me and felt that cold satisfaction settle in my chest.
“You cheated,” she accused, half-protest, half-plea.
“Maybe I let you win the first time,” I said, voice quiet, close enough that only she could hear. “I don’t play to lose.” My hand found hers across the felt, fingers closing around hers in a grip that was more possession than comfort.
Her chin tilted stubbornly, eyes sparking in challenge. “Then you’d better get used to disappointment,” she whispered back, though her fingers curled tighter around mine instead of pulling away.
That fire in Tessa—her need to push me, test me, even when she knew better—made the hunger in me twist. She wanted to defy me. She wanted me to prove her wrong. And I would.
I didn’t give her another moment. My other hand came up to cradle the back of her neck, tilting her face toward mine.
I crushed my mouth to hers, hard and claiming, letting the tension explode into heat.
Her lips parted against mine, fingers threading through my hair as if she’d been waiting for this, daring me to lose control.
Every nerve in me screamed, every instinct shouted that she was mine, that I would take her, here, now, before the world even had a chance to breathe.
When we finally broke apart, just enough to breathe, her lashes were wet, her cheeks flushed, and that stubborn spark in her eyes had deepened into something darker—want, curiosity, and something that mirrored my own hunger perfectly.
I held her hand, fingers still entwined with hers, knowing the next move in our game wouldn’t be gentle. Not by a long shot.
The idea of waiting to fuck her was agonizing.
Every second I held back made my cock ache more.
If it were up to me, I would lay her across this poker table, push her dress up, and claim her in front of the entire room—make the world watch as she trembled beneath me, as she became mine in every sense of the word.
“We,” I said, trying to contain my heavy breathing. “Are leaving.”
Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise, excitement, and that ever-present spark of defiance flaring in them. I let my hand tighten slightly around hers, letting the weight of my grip remind her that she wasn’t walking away from me tonight.
Without another word, I stood and led Tessa through the velvet-draped hallways, past curious glances and whispered bets, each step a promise that the night was far from over.
The hum of the lounge faded behind us, replaced by the charged silence between us, heavy with want, defiance, and something dark that neither of us could deny.
And as the door closed behind us, I let a small, cruel smile tug at my lips. The game wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.