“FOLD.” I THREW my cards into the middle of the table while the guys around me smiled. Seven of them: Stiff, Bosco, Boner, Dawg, Hooch, who Cade introduced me to earlier, then the new guys; Worm and Skid. Each of them had their own sex appeal, but their names … Worm? Seriously? And Skid? The first thing I thought of were skid marks on underwear and hoped that wasn’t how he had gotten his name. I hadn’t asked. After learning about Spook’s name, I realized anything went.
While sitting at the bar, Stiff came in declaring a round of poker. Some guys cheered, others hadn’t given a shit.
I hadn’t seen Spook for about ten minutes since taking the woman away. I had no clue where to. I stayed at the bar, taking in the surroundings. When Stiff called me over to join, I didn’t want to go. I had actually thought of taking off, but when he told me not to be a schmuck, I said fuck it, let’s play. I’d show him schmuck, alright.
We each put twenty bucks in and got a stack of chips. I now sat at the table, all eyes on me, everyone thinking they had just taken my twenty bucks. They were in for a rude awakening.
“Folding already.” Stiff chuckled, his pinky finger tapping on the table absently.
I’d been watching for five rounds, getting a feel for my opponents. The finger tap meant Stiff had a good hand. When it was bad, he pulled in his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. Those were the only two tells I could pick up, yet it had only been a short time.
“Yep.” I leaned back and sipped my Diet Coke.
“Never gonna win if you keep foldin’,” Bosco’s deep voice rang out as he smirked.
His tells were a bit harder. His eyes were his cue for a good hand. On a good hand, his eyes would slip from the pot to his cards. He did it so nonchalantly most people would miss it. I wasn’t most people. For a bad hand, the focus went to his mouth. With the slightest tick on the left side of his lip—again, so fast if you weren’t paying attention—you would have no hope. He had obviously been playing for a long time and knew his shit. I liked him already.
I shrugged. “Didn’t say I was in to win. I’m just killing time.” In actuality, I was having a fucking blast. It had been a long time since I played, but when I did, I always enjoyed the game. The thrill, learning the opponents’ tells, what they meant—all of it got me high. It was the challenge, the high I’d forgotten I loved.
“Spook’ll be back soon,” Boner cut in, stomping out his cigarette and blowing a puff of smoke into the air.
“Whatever.” I really didn’t care in that moment if he came in at all. The joy of the game sent me soaring.
I looked over at Dawg. His right brow lifted as he tossed in a chip. He had a good hand. With a bad one, he stayed blank.
“Yeah, whatever.” Bosco chuckled, tossing in a chip. “I call.”
Bosco, Boner, and Dawg were the only ones in this hand. They laid their cards down. Boner only had a pair of tens, while Dawg had two pair—threes and fives. When Bosco laid down his flush of hearts, the guys groaned as Bosco chuckled, pulling all the chips from the center into his pile.
“Way to go,” I encouraged, tossing my cards to Boner who started shuffling and dealing.
“That’s how ya play the game.” He smiled, the beard and mustache almost hiding it. “Taking lessons?” he pushed.
“Oh, yeah.” I gave a soft wink.
He sat up a little straighter. Guys were so gullible sometimes.
The next round, I had shit cards—a pair of fours. I knew I wouldn’t win the pot, but I played it out, keeping focused on Hooch, Worm, and Skid. Hooch didn’t hide his cards from his face; anyone could read him like a book. He was a horrible bluffer. Worm and Skid had some eye contact thing going on with each other that I was trying to work out when Boner called.
I laid out my hand.
“Oh!” Bosco chided. “Baby, you’ve gotta have more than a pair to win poker.” His words had a knowing tone to them.
I turned, raising my brow at him. He shook his head and tossed his cards to the center of the table.
The time had come. I was ready.
I still couldn’t figure out Worm and Skid, but it was time to get this show on the road. The thrill fed my adrenaline. Keeping it in check proved to be difficult, but I did.
Once the cards landed in front of me, I lifted the corners slightly, seeing an ace of diamonds and of spades, two of hearts, five of clubs, and jack of hearts. Okay, a pair. I kept the jack and tossed in the five and the two. My new cards came. A jack of spades and a three of clubs. Nice. Two pair. Not the best hand, but not the worst.
I checked the guys. Stiff bit his lip. Bosco’s eyes moved from the center pot to his cards. Dawg’s brow tipped up. Hooch’s eyes squinted in disgust. Skid tapped a chip on the table as Worm sat perfectly still.
I shrugged, tossing in two chips. “I’m in.”
“Oh, she plays!” Bosco teased to my smile. Yep, she was playing now. Really playing.
Boner tossed in chips into the center, grabbing another chip and twirling it. His tell was so obvious I tried not to laugh. Clockwise, he had a good hand; counter-clockwise, he had a shitty one. Currently, he turned it counter-clockwise. Why he bet, I had no idea. He probably didn’t want me to show him up or something stupidly macho.
Bosco tossed in like I knew he would, as did Dawg. Skid looked at Worm then tossed in, but Hooch and Worm folded with Hooch leaning back in his seat.
I needed to bluff. I had great cards, but I needed them to think I had better. I held my fingers straight. I scratched the table with my middle finger absently when I had a shitty hand or was nervous. I’d been called out on it many times. I did my best to keep mindful of it. Everything happened subconsciously, though. If I didn’t really think about it, I would show it without realizing it.
I raised two, keeping my eyes on the guys still in. Boner stayed, chucking in his chip. I didn’t know why when his hand was shit. Stiff, on the other hand, kept that pinky tapping. I kept my breathing even.
He smirked, tossing in his chips. “Call.”
Skid bailed, tossing his cards to the center.
Fuck. Here goes nothing.
I laid my two pair with the lonely three down.
Stiff’s eyes narrowed. He flipped his cards down, throwing them to the table, only showing one pair of sevens. “Motherfucker,” he growled.
I smiled.
“Did you cheat?” he accused.
“How in the hell could I have cheated?” I reached into the middle of the pot and began stacking up my chips.
I caught Bosco looking at my cleavage, a smirk playing on his lips. Boobs, gotta love them.
“I don’t know. You just folded five games in a row then bam!” Stiff protested. The man did not like to lose.
“Beginners luck.” I continued stacking until Boner chuckled. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing at all.” His smile told me differently. He remembered. I knew he did, but he didn’t say anything.
When I turned to Bosco, his tipped lip, along with the shaking of the head, told me he knew, too. They knew exactly who my father was, but neither of them were saying anything. I had to wonder why not.
“Fuck, that made me hard,” Skid said, his hand going under the table to adjust his pants, I guessed.
I tipped my brow. “Me winning made you hard?”
“Fuck, yeah. You do that again, and I’ll show ya.” His deep chocolate brown eyes matched his hair. His chiseled cheekbones made his face look stern, but the scar over his right eye caught me. It was long and angry, marring up his face, yet it gave him that dangerous look. The untouchable, sexy one.
“What was that, Skid?” Cade’s stern voice came from behind me.
I jumped. I didn’t smell him or hear him, nothing. I looked up from my seat to see his eyes directed at Skid.
“Oh, your boy here was just telling ol’ Trixie how hard she made him,” Boner said as he and Bosco laughed.
Cade did not. No, his eyes narrowed as his fists clenched. As sexy as it was to have a guy want to beat up every man who looked my way, it also wasn’t going to happen.
“Down, boy.” My words only made Boner, Bosco, and now Stiff laugh deepen.
“Yeah, boy,” Bosco chided.
I noticed Worm just sat there, taking everything in, not reacting. Strange.
Cade cut the group with a menacing look, and I sighed. If I wanted to keep playing poker, I couldn’t have Cade going all ape-shit over nothing. I needed to calm him. Lord, what was wrong with me?
I reached up, touching Cade’s arm, and his muscle tensed. “Come have a seat. Remember? Just live in the fucking moment,” I mimicked his deep voice with the words he told me earlier.
His eyes flashed with lust. My core clenched.
He lifted my chin as he bent down. I then lost all sense of reality when his lips attacked mine. I had to do something with my hands, so I gripped his shirt, his smooth leather brushing my thumbs. Damn, this man could kiss.
When he pulled away, I registered all the whoops and hollers going on around me. I blinked back the fog that was Cade.
“We fucking get it.” Boner snickered, lighting up. “She’s fucking yours.”
I moved away from Cade’s hand, turning to Boner. “Afraid to tell ya, I’m nobody’s but my own.”
That apparently was the wrong thing to say, because Cade lifted me into the air by my armpits, slamming me hard against his rock hard body. I grabbed his shoulders, trying to get my feet to balance from the impact, having trouble doing so.
“What the …?”
Lips, tongue, pulsing between my thighs—I couldn’t register anything else. My head clouded, my breathing forgotten, as I tried to keep up with Cade’s lips, but his were too powerful, too knowing, too determined. He controlled everything. Nothing existed for that moment except him and me.
He ripped his lips away, and I inhaled deep, attempting to get air into my lungs. My chest seized at the intense look in his eyes.
“Trixie, not fucking with you. Say that shit again, and the entire room gets a shot at your ass.”
Oh, hell no. There was no way in hell I would allow his brothers to spank my ass. Not. Going. To. Happen.
“Fuck you,” I grumbled, trying to push him away. “What took you so long with Stacy?” I asked, feeling the rage burn through me. I mean, he took forever out there with her. Who knew if she had given him head or touched him in any way. And shit, I had just let him kiss me.
“That what this is about?” he asked, tightening his grip. I wiggled.
“Fuck off,” I retorted.
He leaned into my ear. “Gave her to a brother to get her off Vipers’ property. She was a pain in the ass, and it took a little longer than I anticipated. Didn’t fucking touch her.”
“Yeah, right,” I replied.
“Yeah, exactly right.”
I gave him a shove, but he didn’t budge.
“You keep pushing away”—his hand came between my legs, and I groaned—“but your body says a totally different thing. You’re fucking mine, Trixie. Always have been.”
I instantly snapped my legs shut, trapping his hand inside. If he thought I would sit back and allow this shit, he was as crazy as that bitch Stacy. I opened my mouth, but he spoke first.
“Stop,” he ordered. Anger pulsed through my veins like hot lava. “I’ll give you a way to work out that anger later … unless you want me to fuck you in front of everyone,” he said, leaning into my ear. “I’m totally fine with that.”
My damn heart picked up speed. I didn’t want him to know it, but Cade being Cade, he did.
He smirked. “I’m gonna let you go. Play your game.”
I went to war inside my head. While I did enjoy the game and the challenge, I wasn’t going to put up with his shit.
“I’m leaving.”
His grip tightened as I struggled.
“Let me go.”
He sighed, turned me around, sat down, and then placed me on his lap, his arm around me like a steel band.
“You fucking little shit, Cade, let me up.”
His dick got harder with each move I made. My body wanted him, the traitorous bitch.
I moved to elbow him, but his other arm came up, pinning my arms behind my back. I had no clue how in the hell he moved so fast without using his other arm, but he did. He growled, “I’m pulling off your fucking jeans, spreading you out on the table, and giving each guy three swats for interrupting their game.”
I stilled. His tone left no room for argument. It wasn’t a threat. No, it was a promise that sent chills up my spine.
“Exactly. One fucking more, Trixie, and it’s happening. I’m done.”
I’d pushed him all the way to his limit. I knew I needed to back down. I didn’t want to, but I knew, if I didn’t, he would follow through.
“Fine,” I clipped out harshly. I may have been giving in, but I would let him know I didn’t like it.
I relaxed my body, and he let go of me. Then I wiggled my ass on his lap. His hands bit into my hip, and I ignored him, turning back to the table.
“Sorry about that. Let’s play.”
Play I did, with purpose and determination. Having Cade under me, I ignored my throbbing need for him, keeping my eye on the game.
Hooch went out first—no surprise there—followed by Worm, Dawg, Skid, and then Boner. Stiff, Bosco, and myself were the only ones left. I itched to take them down.
When I pulled a full house with three jacks and two queens, I bet high, knowing I had a winning hand. Bosco bowed out, but Stiff couldn’t. He met my bet, tossing in all of his chips, still tapping that pinky.
Not one to back down, I saw his bet, flipping my cards to show him.
“Fucking hell!” Stiff roared, tossing out his four kings. He had a damn good hand, but not good enough. Hell yes! “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
The guys roared with laughter. I even found myself doing it, too. Cade’s body shook with his amusement. Stiff yelled across the bar for a beer, which caused Lee to come rushing over quickly with a fresh one. He downed most of it in seconds.
Bosco gathered the cards, lit a cigarette, and then dealt them out. “Last round. All in,” he announced, catching everyone’s attention.
I had a fifty-fifty shot. There were no tells to notice. It was a flat out, no holds barred, deal of the deck. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, lighting me on fire.
“Hell, yeah.” There was no way I could give up this challenge. None.
A little voice inside my head whispered, fucking idiot, but I pushed it aside.
Bosco lifted his chin in what felt like approval, and my heart filled with pride.
Cade began stroking my leg, sending tingles with each movement. The anger from before brushed away as I let the energy of the moment fill me. Damn, I missed this shit.
Bosco dealt. I lifted the corners, finding hearts—three of them: an ace, king, and a jack. The other two were shit cards. I tossed in the two shits, hoping luck was on my side.
Two cards fell on top, but I didn’t look at them. They didn’t matter, because it was what it was. Instead of looking, I stared at Bosco. He looked at his cards, but this time, he kept his face impassive.
When he looked up, he asked, “Did you look?”
I shook my head.
The tension sparked like a live wire. I felt jazzed as hell. The high captivated me like a drug better than I ever had. The money didn’t matter; I couldn’t give a shit about that. The rush of the game became so much more important to me. Such a big part of my childhood involved cards. To have that back—the happy parts—was fucking awesome.
“Turn,” he called.
I turned my cards, not looking down, my heart thumping out of my chest. I looked at his turned over cards, and my heart stopped. A straight flush, ten through six of diamonds. How in the hell had he pulled that out of his ass?
Shock hit me like a mallet. My eyes went to my cards, and all the air left my lungs as a smile crept to my lips.
“A fucking royal flush, baby!” I yelled, pounding my hands hard on the table, the joy hitting me like the weight of an elephant. It felt so damn good.
I ended up with an ace through ten of hearts, a royal damn flush!
Bosco sat back in his seat, looking shocked as hell. I was, too. I had the fucking luck.
Stiff sat dumbstruck while Boner heaved out a laugh.
Skid started pushing all the chips my way when something hit my gut hard, fading my laughter. I didn’t want their money. For some reason, I felt bad. I’d never felt bad after winning, but part of me felt deceptive in a way.
Fuck it. I pushed the chips back into the middle. “I’m not taking your money.”
Bosco’s brow lifted.
“Look, my father taught me to play poker.” I sucked in a deep breath, not knowing which way this shit would go. “You may know him. He goes by the Colonel. He’s the best damn card player and taught me everything I know.”
Bosco’s eyes changed into what I thought might be approval.
Cade banded his arm around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. It felt right. His cheeks were tugged up in a grin.
The guys began talking, but for some reason, I kept my eyes on Bosco. When his face broke out in a wide smile, hidden by his beard and mustache, I began to breathe.
“You’ve got my vote,” he said as Cade squeezed me harder.
The relief instantly died. His vote? This was a test? A test to find out if I’d tell them about my father. Fucking shit.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” I yelled, standing so fast I broke Cade’s grip.
“And that’s our cue to get the fuck out of here.” Cade bent down, pressed his shoulder to my stomach, and lifted me up. The air in my body came out in a whoosh.