Chapter 56 Ace
Ace
Nearly skipping down the stairs and toward Kingston’s office, I rap my knuckles against the doorframe.
“Yeah?” His voice sounds annoyed, but I know that’ll change. Sure enough, his eyes light up when he looks over at me.
“Oh. Hey.”
I grin. “Hey, Mr. Romano. Are you ready for a challenge?”
Kingston’s brows crinkle. He’s been cooped up in his office all day, and I’m ready for him to put away his work and have some fun with me. The pressure to keep the Romano family intact while the tournament looms closer has been eating him alive, and I want my playful, fun Kingston for a few hours.
Sensing my need, he clicks a few buttons on his computer before scooting his chair back and swaggering toward me.
The pheromones must be oozing from his pores because I’m seconds away from throwing in the towel and begging him to do me right here, right now, which would completely ruin my plans for the evening.
“No offense, Ace. But with the way you’re looking at me right now, I don’t really sense a challenge.”
I turn on my heel before I can prove him right and yell over my shoulder, “Whatever, young Padawan. Follow me.”
Cards in hand, I walk to the kitchen table, take a seat, and begin shuffling the Allegretti deck. A curious Kingston sits across from me, pressing his back into his chair and casually undoing the top button of his shirt to reveal the long column of this throat.
I know he’s simply getting comfortable after a long day at work, but he’s totally distracting me with a glimpse of his olive skin. Damn him and his ruggedly attractive face.
“Okay, Yoda, let’s see what this challenge is.”
It takes every ounce of concentration to remember my game plan for the evening, but I dig deep and somehow spark my memory about tonight’s lesson.
“Plain and simple. I believe you promised me a game of strip poker, and I’m calling to collect.”
Throwing his head back, he laughs loud and hard. The sound makes my heart sing, and I join in, giggling right along with him.
“Well, alright, then. Let’s see whatcha got, Wild Card.”
I begin dealing the cards and watch his demeanor for any little twitch that might tell me what he’s thinking as he looks at his cards. But he’s like a steel vault, not revealing a thing.
Three community cards are placed face-up in the center of the table when he glances up at me.
“So, what are the rules? How does this work? You’ll have to forgive me for not being strip poker savvy.” Narrowing his gaze in suspicion, he adds, “And you better tell me you had to Google this shit, or I’m going to have to hunt someone down.”
With a grin, I explain, “No hunting necessary. The rules are pretty simple. If you fold, you automatically lose a piece of clothing––victor’s choice.
However, if you play the round and lose, you can choose your own article of clothing to discard.
Other than that, it’s the same rules as normal Texas Holdem without the betting in between.
And…to see how well you can read your opponent––aka me––we’re going to add one more rule.
If you’re able to guess what my hand is before I show you, then I have to take off two articles of clothing.
But if you’re wrong, you have to remove two pieces of your own clothes. Understand?”
“Yeah. So, pretty much you’d be an idiot to fold because even if you know you’re going to lose, you still have the chance of guessing what cards the other player is holding, which makes them discard two items of clothing, right?”
“Yup.”
“Well, then…I’m not folding this hand. Are you?”
I take another peek at my cards, seeing I have nothing, but I decide to play along anyway because, like he said, I’d be an idiot to fold.
“Nope.”
Placing another card face-up in the center of the table, I school my features. If we were playing with chips, there’s no way I’d stay in, but I’m curious to see how he plays against me when there’s something he wants on the line.
After a fifth card is placed next to the other four, I look up to find Kingston watching me closely.
“Would you like to make a guess at what I’m holding?” I ask, batting my eyes.
“Two of a kind?”
I flip my cards over to show he’s wrong; I’ve got nothing. “Nope.”
With a shrug, he slides his arms out of his jacket then tugs his tie over his head before showing me his cards. “I still won the hand, Ace.” He shows me a pair of sixes. “Now take off your shirt. There’s way too much clothing covering that beautiful skin.”
Tsking, I shake my head then take off my shoes. “Sorry, Kingston. I didn’t fold, which means you don’t get to choose what I take off.”
“Fiiine,” he whines before winking at me. “Deal another hand; we need to get you naked.”
Laughing, I do as I’m told and give us our cards then put three in the center.
“Folding?” I ask.
“Fuck, no.”
My mouth lifts, but I add a couple more cards to the community pile to move things along.
“I have a guess,” I say, pinning him with my stare.
“And?”
“Three of a kind.”
A mock-outraged Kingston tosses his cards into the center of the table before throwing his hands into the air. “How the hell did you know that?” he laughs.
“Lucky guess.” I wink. “But maybe you should try not grinning like a loon when the cards are flipped over.”
“Good point.” He slides his belt through the loops and drops it to the ground. “One of these times, I’m going to fool you, Wild Card. And you’re going to rue the day you ever challenged me.”
Again, I just laugh, soaking up the easy connection we have and how much lighter I feel when I’m around him. “Not likely, but I appreciate your work ethic.”
Shaking his head, he gathers the cards and begins shuffling. “One day, Ace. One day.”
We continue playing, laughing, shouting in outrage, and licking our lips as more items of clothing disappear from our bodies until we’re in nothing but our underwear.
I have to give Kingston props; he’s getting better.
He’s learning what to look for and how to hide his emotions even better than before.
Although part of me wonders if his true feelings come to the surface anytime we’re around each other, and that he’ll have an easier time keeping them in check when he plays against Burlone.
Especially when I consider what Diece mentioned when we went grocery shopping––how Kingston is different around me. Softer.
But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
When I look at my cards, I pull my lips into a thin line to keep from smiling. Two kings. Effortlessly, Kingston lines up three cards onto the table face-up. Two aces and a six, which gives me a two-pair. We don’t bother asking if either of us is folding because we haven’t the entire evening.
I can feel King watching me as he flips over the final two cards. Another ace and a seven which gives me a full house.
“I have a guess,” Kingston says with a confident grin.
“You look awfully sure of yourself.”
“Because I am. I’d bet all in if we were playing with chips.”
“Because you’re sure your hand can beat mine, or you’re sure you know what’s in my hand?”
“Both. You have a full house, and I have four of a kind. Now take off the rest of your clothes and come sit on my lap.”
My jaw hits the floor at his confidence combined with his accuracy. “You have four of a kind?” He flips over his card to show me an ace and a queen.
“Seems like I’m good at collecting aces,” he teases, winking for good measure.
“But…how did you know what I had?”
“Because you’re right. With a little effort, I can read you like a fucking book. Now get over here. Don’t make me ask again.”
Reaching behind my back, I unclasp my bra and drop it to the floor, leaving my underwear on as I walk around the table, taking my time.
The way his gaze heats as he eats up every inch of skin I have on display is pretty much the best confidence boost a girl can ask for, and my heart feels like it just might burst at the realization I get to call him mine.
Shaking off the very real and serious turn my thoughts just took, I hook my thumbs around the flimsy material at my hips and tug them slowly down my legs.
“You got lucky,” I quip as I watch him tug down his black boxers.
With a grin, he razzes, “Never took you for a sore loser, Ace.”
“Then maybe you’re not so good at reading me after all.”
He laughs before reaching forward and tugging me closer. His hot, needy hands grip my ass before he situates me so that I’m straddling his lap.
“Now ride me, Wild Card. I’ve been dying for you since you challenged me in my office, and I think we both know how impatient I can get.
” With a light slap to my butt, he leans back and lets me take the lead.
I give him a coy smile before following his orders like a good little girl while knowing who’s really in charge in this very moment.
Me.
And I love him even more for giving me that power.
His thick erection is hot in my palm as I rub my hand up and down it. Slowly. Teasingly. Until a bud of precum glistens at his tip. I lick my lips and drag my thumb across it before bringing the drop of moisture to my lips. Kingston’s gaze darkens. I suck it into my mouth, and smile.
“You like that?” he rasps.
“Maybe.”
His gaze darkens, daring me to tease him further, but I’m too turned on to toy with him anymore.
Maybe later.
Rising onto my tiptoes, I line him up with my center then slowly take him inside of me. The familiar stretch makes my brows pinch before Kingston tangles his fingers into my hair and slams his mouth against mine, erasing any discomfort from his cock that’s buried deep inside of me.
Shit, he tastes good.
After a few seconds, I roll my hips. Finding my own rhythm, I’m determined to leave King a mess like he always manages to do with me. And it works. As I speed up my pace, his grip on my hair tightens, and I smile against his mouth, using his shoulders for balance.
His grunts only spur me on as we both race to our orgasms like it’s a cure for our sanity when we both know it’ll only feed the chaos of emotions. And need. And lust. And above all. Love.
But I’m okay with that.
And as he lets himself go, I know he’s okay with it too.