“Make it quick, motherfuckers,” I say.

I’m ready to deal the last few hands for our poker evening, which is how we decide to kill the time as we wait for the entertainment to arrive. It’s eight of us around the poker table. We’ve been playing for hours. Malcolm isn’t here, but as Dominic flew in at the last minute, we welcome him to the fold. He loves Italians. Probably more so because he is Italian.

I deal the cards for Five Card Stud. Dealing is about all I’m good at. The gambling part, not so much. One look at my hand, and I fold, along with Dominic, Markus and Chauncey.

“Check on the flight, Vic,” Chauncey says for the hundredth time. He runs a hand through his light blond hair, tapping the fingers of his other hand on the table.

“Stop asking. It hasn’t landed yet,” I tell him.

“I hate having my time wasted,” he grunts.

“Get the driver to take you to the slopes or something. No one’s stopping you from going out to get your freak on.”

“It’s probably just as slim pickings out there. Why the fuck do you think we fly in the entertainment?”

“He’s got a point,” Jeff agrees, raising his bet. “This is Bumfuck, Nowhere. Couldn’t even convince that cute waitress to come up here with twenty large.” He looks around the room. “The chick’s too naïve to realize she can use the money. This shit could never happen back in New York, or over in Vegas or LA. See, that’s why no one won our bet today. We’re in the sticks.”

“You sure about that?” I ask, mostly to get a rise out of him, because I don’t plan on bragging.

“Are you trying to tell us something?”

I nod. “Yeah. Play the fucking hand. That means, call, raise or fold, dumbass.”

Chauncey stares at me. “Hey, you never know. Maybe she’ll still show up. Would be fun if she brings a few friends.”

I’m wondering the same thing, but after the stunt Jeff pulled with the tip money, I have my doubts.

Prentice, who’s been bluffing his face off all night, wins with a hand full of nothing. “Grow a pair, losers,” he says, raising his whiskey to his lips.

I push my chair back from the table and drop the deck in front of Markus. “I’ll be outside.”

Prentice leaves the game too, following me with his box of cigars. We head out front through the large foyer.

“Think she’ll show?” he asks as he lights one up.

I shrug. “I won’t be surprised if she gives a rain check on the invite.”

A white Ford coupe rolled up just a few minutes later. The driver stopped a few feet from us.

I smile.

Things are looking up.

Missy is in the driver seat, and she has brought along a couple of women around her age.

She cuts the engine. The two passengers step outside first. Right away, I surmise the petite, dark-haired one is Missy’s sister. She seems timid, almost overwhelmed, as though she’s not sure whether or not we’ll party with her or cut her up in little pieces. The taller blonde with a halo of curls looks familiar. She gives us a look like she’s seen it all.

Missy steps out of the car looking sexy as hell. The dress she has on under her open winter coat is draped low in the front, showing off her cleavage and then some. The hemline reveals her long legs that taper down to strappy heels. There’s no doubt in my mind that it barely covers her ass. I can barely push back the image of those legs wrapped around me earlier. My dick starts to grow in my pants, ready for another round with this fiery little hellcat.

“Good evening, ladies,” Prentice greets them before I can get my mouth working. He saunters over and takes Missy’s hand in his. “Nice to see you. Marcie, was it?”

“It’s Missy,” she says flatly.

“Of course, and you brought friends!”

“Yes. This is my sister, Rosa-Beth, and my best friend, Tanya.”

Prentice and I exchange handshakes with them.

“We’ve met,” Tanya says to Prentice. “Last year. Right here, in fact.”

“Oh, did we?” he asks, checking her out more closely.

“We spent some time together.” Tanya explains.

She leans closer to him and whispers something in his ear, to which his eyes and smile widen.

“Tanya, of course. You look great!”

Missy walks around to the trunk of her car. “Which one of you big, strong yuppies wants to help get our bags inside?” she asks. “Or do you have help for that too?”

Prentice rushes over to take all three bags. “We do have help. But they’re not here yet.” He looks over at me for a moment, and then he turns to Tanya and Missy’s sister. “How about I show you inside, and Carter can help Missy park in the garage at the side of the house?”

He isn’t really asking a question. The ladies figure that out somehow, and follow him inside. Missy walks up to me with her arms folded.

“I made it,” she informs me. The smile threatening to light up her face is already making her eyes sparkle. It expands the semi that’s been happening in my pants.

“I see that,” I grin.

“So, where do I park? Around back, so it’s not as much of an eyesore out here?”

I hold out my hand for her keys. “Nothing like that. There’s a covered garage at the side of the lodge. You’re from around here. You know how much snowfall we can get overnight. Trust me, you don’t want to have to wake up and clean all that shit off your Ford eyesore.”

That gets her smiling. “The keys are in the ignition. Knock yourself out.”

Just as I open her driver side door, I get a glimpse of approaching vehicle lights. Our two limos turn into the driveway from the road a few hundred yards away. It’s our Italian imports. As they approach, every instinct in my gut begins to alarm. I have never ignored that little voice in my head, and right now, it tells me that if I want to have a good time with Missy, I need to be as far away from this cabin as possible. Even if it’s for just tonight.

I return to the passenger side and open the front door. “Get in.”

She steps over to me, confused. “What?”

“Get in.”

She looks back at the house. “But, I just got here.”

“We’ll be back soon,” I tell her. In this case, soon can be a few hours, or a lot more, depending on a lot of factors.

With some hesitation, Missy climbs inside. Shutting her door, I get into her cramped driver seat, start the engine, and drive away.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

I don’t actually know, so I tell her, “Somewhere that’s not here.”