Hank was history. Looking at Jack, registering the heart-slamming, panty-wetting way he got to me, I knew no other man would do for my next lover. Before this night was over, I was going to erase the biggest mistake of my life, by regaining my friendship with Jack and, in the meantime, getting laid by a guy who understood no-strings sex as completely as I did.
A half-dozen more junk hands came my way and I was seriously considering quitting the table, despite the mouth-watering view three seats away, when I checked my hold cards to discover pocket queens. I’d never had the desire to play cards at The Liege until tonight, but I’d played a shitload of poker in my time. Back before I’d gotten sloshed on martinis and given in to my Jack craving, I used to play Texas Hold ’Em with him and his younger brother, Ryan, every Wednesday night. Jack took almost as much pride in his poker skills as he did in his firefighting ones.
Not about to scare off the competition, I made a small bet, which half the table called, and I waited for the flop. The eight and nine of spades and the queen of hearts. Three lucky ladies in my favor.
Anticipation kindled as an idea formed. I put in a moderate bet this time; the two players between me and Jack called it. Jack hesitated a few seconds, then raised my bet. Thankful he had a hand, or at least the urge to bullshit me, I eagerly called him, the balding slimeball to my left and the forty-something family man next to Jack following my lead. The turn showed a fourth queen for my hand, spades this time, and my pussy gushed with liquid excitement.
Only four hands could beat me and the odds of anyone having them were slim. I was going to have Jack back, as a friend and a lover.
Struggling to hold in my grin, I pushed my chips into the growing pot. “All in.”
Slimeball and the guy next to Jack folded. Jack tapped a finger against his hold cards. My belly tightened. If he folded now, I was screwed. But no, I wasn’t. In order to be screwed, he had to call me one last time, then agree to a side bet of the high-stakes sexual kind.
Five seconds passed. Ten seconds. Fifteen.
His voice deeper than ever, Jack uttered, “I’ll call you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs as he pushed in all but two ten-high stacks of red chips, matching my bet. Before I could speak the next words, the ones that would land him in my bed, he said them: “Interested in a side bet?”
The sudden, raw heat in his eyes said he wasn’t talking about chips. He was on the same page as I was. I practically quivered with excitement. Outwardly, I didn’t dare allow such an obvious tell. Inwardly, my pussy thrummed with anticipation for the long night of loving ahead.
Giving him a dirty-girl smile, I challenged him. “Name the stakes.”
Jack
I couldn’t believe my luck. First a nut flush draw that had become a straight flush on the turn, then Carinna’s agreeing to my every fantasy. True, she hadn’t agreed yet, but she would. With the cards showing on the table, she couldn’t beat me, and that meant I was as good as fucked in all the best ways.
I’d been convinced she hated me after the way I’d walked out on her four months ago. The lame excuse I’d given about responding to a fire had obviously been enough to pacify her. But it had been an excuse. The only fire I’d gone up against that night had been the one burning in my gut with the realization I’d fallen hard for Carinna. I’d always known I loved her, but until that night I hadn’t realized how far beyond friendship it went.
I’d lost my father to fast-burning flames and had seen too many others lose their loved ones the same way to consider a relationship while working full-time as a firefighter, so I’d bolted from her bed. And paid the price of knowing she’d been screwing some other guy for the past few months. A guy that my brother, Ryan, had informed me Carinna had kicked to the curbside just this morning.
I couldn’t have asked for better timing.
A lucky run of cards had recently allowed me to turn my poker hobby into something more serious. Tonight I was playing for fun. Every day for the past week and a half, I’d gone up against some of the biggest names in the game. With four days left to go in the tournament, I was third in the chips lead. If I could hang on to a top-five position, I’d finish high enough in the money to turn my career focus onto starting up the classic car restoration garage I’d dreamed of for years and my personal focus on making Carinna mine permanently.
My cock had been hard since Carinna had joined the table and sent me her sultry smile. It gave an anxious twitch now, over the thought of having her again. And again and again. All that stood in the way of losing myself in her lush body tonight was a futile river card; all that stood in the way of making her mine in the long run was her cast-iron commitment issue.
Pulling my mind above my belt, I concentrated on the unfolding hand.
The aging dealer was looking at us like we were a couple of half-wits. He spoke slowly. “You can’t make a side bet when you’re the only two playing, or with a player who has all of their chips in play.”
I glanced back at Carinna and gave her a quick perusal of her ample cleavage, hugged to testosterone-tormenting perfection in a navel-baring tank top. Lifting my attention to her face, I found she still held on to the remnants of the X-rated smile she’d flashed me moments ago. Out of respect for her job with The Liege, I relied on a naughty smile of my own to convey that we’d work out the finer points of the side bet later.
I nodded at the dealer. “Sorry. I was joking about the side bet.”
The old guy continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Now, you both need to turn your cards over.”
I almost snorted over the way he was babying us, probably two of the most skilled players in the room. Instead, I looked back down the table at Carinna. Her grin covered the lower half of her face, her full, sensual lips tinted with pink. She slipped her tongue out, moistening the soft flesh and my cock throbbed with the memory of my own tongue lapping at another area of her body that was just as soft and moist and pink.
The thought of her warm pussy sucking at my tongue had me returning to that fateful night four months ago. I wished it hadn’t taken her father’s passing to bring us together and show me our intertwined destiny, but, hell, her old man owed her for the way he’d messed with her head about relationships being the devil’s handiwork, so maybe in a twisted way his death bringing us together was a latent form of justice.
With Carinna’s husky laughter, I returned to the present to see she’d uncovered pocket queens. She flashed a cocky grin. “Sorry, Jack. But you can’t win ’em all.”
I let out a low whistle, almost feeling sorry for her. Almost. I couldn’t feel too bad for a woman I planned to spend the night providing with ecstasy. “Four ladies. Nice. But you’re right. You can’t win them all.” I turned my hold cards over, revealing the ten and jack of spades. “But you put up an admirable fight.”
Her cocky grin faded to an appreciative smile, as the dealer turned the river card: the seven of diamonds. “Still got the touch, Dempsey.”
While the rest of the players at the table congratulated me and shared their sympathies with her, I shot Carinna a wicked grin that said she would find out before the night was through just how good my touch still was. My hunger for her reflected in my voice as I said, “What can I say? Some things never die.”
“They just get better with time.” The sap who was sitting next to her, weighted down by ten pounds of gold jewelry, intruded on our conversation.
Carinna gave the guy another of the fake-as-hell smiles I’d seen her aim his way earlier. Raking in my chips, I didn’t bother with a smile but gave him a look of displeasure.
I played