Chapter 2 Smoke
two
Smoke
Today isn't real. It can't be.
Everything's hazy around the edges, like I'm watching myself from outside of my body. Concentrating? Forget it. The cards in my hand might as well be written in a language I've never spoken.
Beneath the table, Ace's heel comes down on my boot hard. Though he tries to crush my toes into powder, I don't feel a thing. I can't. Not when she is taking up every inch of space inside my skull.
I haven't told my brother I've got a girlfriend.
My first girlfriend. Even better, it's with one of the prettiest women in this building. Hell, who am I kidding? In this entire town.
Fake or not, the word sits in my chest like a lit match. Just thinking about it makes the back of my neck prickle. Makes the leather of my cut feel too warm against my skin.
My brain is stuck in a loop—the way Bunny felt in my arms. Her spine against my palms. The way she tucked under my chin like she'd been built to fit there.
There was a part of me, once. A tiny, stupid part that wondered what it'd be like to get my hands on her, but it was small. I never let myself entertain it because I thought some lucky bastard was already calling her his.
Now I can't stop thinking about hugging her again. Breathing her in. That sweet smell—perfume, shampoo, whatever the hell it is—clinging to her like she's been rolling in something addicting like a drug.
I feel another thump of Ace's boot, and I shift, already feeling my cock uncomfortably grazing denim. As if my body has finally figured out its function, I've been hard since she waltzed off with a wave of cheerfulness radiating off of her.
Jesus. I don't even know how to will down an erection. Never had to. Never felt anything strong enough to need the skill. This woman’s the only one to make this a problem.
"Smoke?" Across from me, Will lifts a brow as he waits for me to make my call. Far more painless than my brother's attempt to get my attention.
Blinking, I look at my cards and remember what I'm in the middle of. Ace wanted me to get back the money I'd purposely lost when I folded, and he encouraged me to sit next to him so I could fill him in on what's going down in between games.
He's too impatient at still being clueless after two games. I'm still trying to absorb the information myself.
I guess for a few minutes, I can focus on something that isn't the gorgeous black-haired woman.
Grabbing a small stack of chips, I slide it toward the others. "Raise."
There are a few grumblings next to me as one player folds.
Ace flicks at his cards like he's trying to decide if it's worth raising or not.
With one player left with us, one with far too many chips at his disposal, I lean back before my brother takes it as a sign to raise again.
Instead of sliding his chips, he tosses them in with the others and sighs.
We've always done this, reading each other by the smallest of behaviors. Hell, growing up in our foster home, it's a tool we perfected growing up when "disrupting the peace" was worth punishment. Now look at us, using our talents for far better reasons.
Now that I know he's got a shit hand, I can wrap up this game and move on.
I've got matters to handle, and can't do much until I give my brother what he wants.
Our other player curses and folds after I raise one last time. Just enough to make him hesitate to take the bite or not. After Ace folds, and it's time to reveal, my brother hisses under his breath when I reveal a single pair. Guess I've won.
"Why in the hell would you bet so much on a shit hand?" Watching me collect my winnings, Ace clicks his tongue but still pats my shoulder as a small way to congratulate me for a win that was more than risky.
The other two are smart to leave our table and find another table with fewer risk-takers. It's the constant flow of different faces that helps keep our act going without raising suspicion among those we're cheating on.
"Guess I'm just feeling really lucky today." Moving to stand, I don't miss his groan when he realizes my intention of leaving. "Going to turn these in and then do a round or two."
"Boo." Pursing his lips, he plays with his remaining chips like he's considering if he wants to run solo before hesitating. "Wait, do you think I can bounce early? Penny's got a babysitter tonight, and I really want to take her out. Having some extra time to prepare would be really nice."
I'm considering telling him about Bunny's stalker, so I have some form of backup if needed.
We've always had each other's backs, and having him gone because he's a sap for his old lady makes me feel exposed in a way that I'm not used to.
Still, seeing him grinning at the idea of enjoying themselves, I nod.
I care about his happiness too much, and after everything we've been through, he deserves something pleasant to come into his life.
Although he might be the best person to ask about managing these feelings stirring inside me, I think I'd prefer to get shot in both kneecaps than ask my brother what to do about what is going on in my jeans. Guess I'll have to figure out that part on my own.
"I'll let you know if anything comes up." Nodding, I almost crack a smile when he's already jumping up to his feet, going on a ramble about impressing Penny with a fancy dinner and a decent ride toward a city a few miles south.
Giving Will our thanks, we move to cash in before separating ways.
Now alone, I drift around the building. Keeping my eyes peeled for anything out of the norm, it doesn't take me long to find Bunny.
Then again, that's never been a challenge, has it?
She's a beauty who easily attracts anyone with eyes.
Now that I've locked onto her, I already know what comes next. The kind of torture I don't normally try to chase after.
Watching her sweetly squeeze one of her male customers' shoulders while speaking to him, I'm left with this jealousy that curls around deep in my chest. Didn't even know I could get jealous until I met the beauty last year when I became a part of this charter.
That's how I knew she was something special. She brought things out of me that were outright terrifying because of how unknown they were.
Even now, she's doing it. Making me act some part to help her out. While I don't mind giving her a reason to smile, it's the ugly parts trying to surface that make me wonder if this is a good idea.
The parts that ignite my anger are the ones that make me want to grab whoever's throat is causing her discomfort. The same impulse that drives me to press her against something so I can make it clear to that person that she's not available—that she's mine .
That thought easily follows up with my imagination filling with playing out how easily it would be to hike up that dress of hers and touch her in a way that makes it impossible for her to give any of her attention to these assholes.
I think I liked it more when all I cared about was gambling. Less complicated and less frustrating.
Sighing under my breath, I run a hand down my face and try to shake the thoughts out of my head. As if they can just fall out that easily, they only worsen the longer I watch her play every customer like a fiddle.
Every poor bastard falls for that smile. How many of them have I watched eat out of the palm of her hand before paying even more by giving her gracious tips? That's why she's doing it. Not because she wants any of them, but because she likes what they give her.
I'm just as much of a sucker as these fools. All she had to do was look up at me with those big, wide eyes, and now I'm playing this role for her.
What's she getting out of picking me to do this? Fuck. I can't even grasp the concept to start to understand.
But still, she picked me first. She wanted me to help solve this rough patch in her life. Hard not to feel special about the whole ordeal.
Need to keep moving. Need to keep searching. Otherwise, this beauty is going to drive me insane.
Instead of my day ending with my wallet heavy, it wraps up as soon as Bunny's grabbing my hand and guiding me toward the back of the casino.
She wants me to keep watch while she gets changed.
While keeping me informed, she has me wondering if she'll ask for assistance in removing that corset of hers.
It does look quite complicated with all its loops.
Yet, there's only one knot, and it's the one that drags up as a bow right below her breasts.
Turns out, she doesn't need help. The thought must not even cross her mind, despite filling mine.
It takes her a few minutes to get changed, but when she steps out wearing jeans and a shirt that hugs her just right, I can't tell which side of her is more pulling. The temptress, or the cozy woman who looks like she'd easily be swallowed up by my cut if I offered it up to her.
Fuck, I didn't even think about that. All I have to do is picture it once, and I'm already moving.
She flushes a little when I'm shrugging it off. Beneath, I'm left in my shirt. It's just a worn-out cotton tank top, but she's looking at me like I'm not wearing anything at all.
Instead of hesitating to grab my offering, she's immediately wrapping her body in my leather before shaking her head. "Just when I thought you couldn't get hotter..."
By now, I should be used to her teasing, flirtatious words.
Hell, she says exactly what she needs to in order to get the response she wants.
Yet, when my skin flushes beneath her compliment, she doesn't giggle in amusement.
She's too busy drinking in the tattoos on my skin.
Is she being serious, then? A goddess like her thinking I'm anywhere near her level?
I've got scars where the fabric is covering. She's only seeing the good parts. If she were to see what's beneath, she wouldn't be complimenting me. Rather, I think she'd be more scared. Most people with a little sense know best to avoid men in my shoes.