Double Down (4 page)

No need for worries on that score.

She nodded to the dealer who, at this table, was a South Asian man with a heavy black mustache. He had a smooth way with the cards, not showy, just quick and competent. Quick was good.

Ryan sat down first, then pulled her onto his lap. The sudden jostle—going from standing to sitting—was more disconcerting than it should’ve been. Or maybe it was the hot pipe of his erection against her ass. He groaned softly, right along her nape, and nuzzled his forehead there.

Now who was having trouble concentrating?

Cass gulped in a breath of air, trying to ignore the possessive way his hands settled on her hips. He had big hands. Big and strong. He splayed his fingers so wide that the tips of his thumbs brushed her underwires.

“Gimme the chips.” She was more than breathless now.

Ryan groaned again. He shifted on the seat, which pressed his hard-on against her lower back. Cass giggled.

The dealer lifted a stern eyebrow. “Are you in, ma’am?”

“I am.” She grabbed half the chips from Ryan’s hand, slipping one inside her purse. A souvenir. She plunked the rest on the green felt. “All of this on the next hand.”

“You’re not a very good gambler, either.” Ryan’s voice was a low purr behind her ear.

“Hush. I’m doing this my way.”

“Really fast?”

“Exactly.”

The dealer only shrugged and dealt the cards. Another couple sat to their right, but they were in their seventies at least. The man’s thick bifocals didn’t seem to help as he squinted at his hand. Two businessmen who looked Korean occupied the other two seats.

Before Cass picked up her cards, she turned her upper body to whisper in Ryan’s ear. “If I win big, we leave right away. We can spend the rest tomorrow.”

“Where would we go?”

“Don’t know yet.” She chanced looking into his eyes. That same intoxicating mix of humor and passion waited for her there. So damn sexy. She forced her lungs to work. “But I don’t want this to end.”

“Then play.”

She turned back to the table, doing the best to ignore how Ryan’s pinkies had snaked beneath the fitted waistband of her skirt. He tried to peek over her shoulder, but she clutched the cards to her chest. “No way, Jose. You’ll give something away.”

“You think I’m indiscreet?”

She wiggled on his lap. “I have proof.”

Taking a steadying breath, she peered down at her cards. Damn. A ten and a six. Nothing to do but stick and wait. She’d lived too long in Vegas to know there was no way around shitty hands. She waved off the dealer and eased back. Ryan’s chest was warm and solid against her spine.

The first Korean man asked for another card and bust with twenty-three. He slumped in defeat, signaling the nearest cocktail waitress for another beer. The old woman also bust, hitting a fourteen and receiving a nine.

Everyone else stayed, including the dealer. When it came time to reveal the hands, Cass didn’t have a chance. Her sixteen fell victim to the dealer’s nine and queen.

“Shoot,” she muttered as he swiped away her chips.

Ryan squeezed her waist. “I thought you wanted fast.”

“Sure, but…”

“But that was forty dollars. I know.”

The odd note in his voice made her turn, but whatever it was couldn’t be seen on his face. She forced a shrug. “Your turn, Mr. Haverty.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Whitman.”

He plunked the rest of his chips on the table.

The dealer slid card after card out of the plastic sleeve. Zip. Zip. Zip. Fortunes won and lost. Cass had never been much of a gambler. She’d seen too many tourists disappointed, fortunes squandered, and souls ruined by that lust for another chance. It could hook people and not let go. That didn’t mean she was blind to the allure—the urge to have one more shot at the bigs.

Maybe being raised in Vegas had been a sort of inoculation. Her family lived there, making their way by catering to the vacation scene. Bus trips to the Grand Canyon didn’t seem flashy when compared to that magnificent casino floor. Glitz and excess made the fact she was sitting on a near-stranger’s lap a trifle less crazy. She was just getting her kicks another way.

Giving herself a mental shake, she felt the exact moment when Ryan let her go. It was only one hand, as he reached out for the pair he’d been dealt. The other still claimed her waist. She’d only just gotten used to being held that way. She didn’t want to be released.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Why?”

“You didn’t let me look at your cards.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Close ’em.”

Cass only pretended to obey. She angled her lashes to see when he revealed a scant corner of each card. A seven and a five.

“Dang,” she whispered.

“Hey.” He tickled his fingers up her ribs, making her laugh. “I said no peeking.”

“Sorry. And for the hand.”

“Shhh.”

The dealer went around the table, offering additional cards to each gambler. Ryan had slid his hand up her back, bypassing her bra. He snagged one of her pigtails and toyed with its uneven end.

“Where would you have gone?” he asked against her throat. “Did you decide?”

Oh, yes.
She’d thought of the perfect place. Tommy had thought the idea repulsive, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Ryan would love it. That wholesome, handsome All-American grin would falter. He’d barely stagger, as if she’d jerked out all his bones.

“I did, but it’s too late now.”

“Never say never.”

When the dealer asked, Ryan requested another card. Without enough money to double down and bet again, he had to hope he didn’t bust with a ten or a face card. Twenty-one was a winning hand. Twenty-two meant the dealer grabbed another fistful of chips.

She couldn’t look. She pinched her eyes shut when he checked out what he’d received.

Then he hit again. And again.

Cass had to bite her tongue. Was he nuts? Was his brain still in his pants?

She squeezed his thigh, showing her displeasure without words. He yanked her pigtail in reply. The sharp tug almost hurt. He applied pressure until she was forced to angle her head backward. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not crazy.”

“No?”

“I just go for what I want.”

“Maybe not crazy, then,” she said. “Reckless.”

He huffed a tiny laugh. The hot breath sent steaming pleasure across her skin. “If I win, we go where
I
want.”

A stronger shiver made her shoulders shake. This was going beyond crazy or reckless. The possibility of giving up control reinforced the fact she’d only met him a few hours earlier.

“Sure,” she said at last. She put more faith in his losing than winning.

The old lady had bust again, this time with a jack to spoil her queen and three. The Korean man on the right gave a pleased smile when he revealed his nineteen. Around the table they went until only Ryan remained. He turned over his cards, one at a time. First the seven. Then the five. A six. A three.

Cass squealed in surprise. “Twenty-one!”

The dealer revealed his pair of kings. “The gentleman wins.”

The older couple laughed quietly, and the Koreans raised their glasses in toast. Only the dealer seemed perplexed as he paid out the winnings, at which point Cass realized the order of the cards. “You hit on eighteen? Eighteen is a great hand.”

Ryan shrugged. “Sure, but in this case it was a losing hand.”

Cass felt dizzy as he scooted her off his lap. Solid ground didn’t seem solid anymore. She gripped the lip of the blackjack table as Ryan stacked a hefty pile of chips then slipped them in his trouser pocket. A quick glance revealed he was just as ready to go as he had been in the hallway.

She swallowed. He could talk her into just about anything, especially if his kisses joined in on the persuasion, but the idea of going wherever he wanted was too much. His nerve was intimidating. Frankly, she didn’t know if she could keep up, no matter how provocative she’d already behaved.

Ryan tipped the dealer and offered his arm. Rather than collapse where she stood, Cass took hold. He was slow and considerate as he led her back to the money-changing windows. Part of her didn’t want slow. She wanted an end to the mystery. Was what he proposed something she could live with? Or would it mean the end of their games, as good sense trumped her barely reacquainted sense of adventure?

“This is for you,” he said.

Her hands numb, Cass found herself holding two fifty-dollar bills. “Hm?”

“Your tip, remember?”

“How much did you net?”

“Another hundred. Not bad.”

“I should think not. So,” she said, tucking the money in her tiny black clutch. “Where to?”

“You can tell me now.” He laced his fingers with hers. “Where would you have gone?”

“Why?”

His grin was back. He was so much less intimidating when he was the boy next door. Less intimidating, but no less dangerous. Her heart flipped over when she noticed the tiny laugh lines that edged his mouth. He made it a habit, smiling. She could fall for a guy who enjoyed life as much as he seemed to.

“Here’s the deal,” he said, absently toying with the end of her pigtail again. “I’m game for anything, okay? It’s a Friday night. I have nowhere to be. No obligations until Monday morning. No one waiting at home for me.” He shrugged. “I’m also well-trained in self-defense. There’s absolutely nothing you can do to me where I won’t beg for more.”

She chuckled at that. The tension that had momentarily reclaimed familiar territory slunk back into the corners.

“Cassandra?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m thinking that’s not the same for you.” One large hand cupped her cheek. Hazel eyes had turned somber. “I want you to call the shots. Only what you’re comfortable with. I know…I know this is fast.”

“Fast.” She huffed out another laugh. “You could say that.”

She remembered his kiss, his hands on her waist, his growling purr against her neck. His stubble would feel amazing against her skin. Her nipples puckered at just the thought. Then there was the promise of that cock. Dear God, she’d turned shallow. After half a year of polite and frankly inadequate lovemaking, Cass wanted to go for it. She wanted to have sex with the man who’d hit on an eighteen. Something hot and daring.

A memory in the making.

“Tonight I like fast,” she whispered.

He let out a breath, sounding relieved. “Good. So where to?”

Chapter Five

Ryan shifted in the passenger seat, trying to find enough room. He’d even jacked the seat back as far as it would go, but some things were unavoidable. A six-year-old Honda Civic hadn’t been designed for him.

He twisted his shoulders, both maneuvering for more room and catching a better view of Cassandra. She drove well. There was nothing flashy or showy about the way she shifted, staying precisely at the speed limit. Sometimes he forgot that not all people challenged the barriers of speed—unlike every combat pilot he’d ever known. Her profile was freaking adorable, with a button nose and dainty pixie jawline. At a stoplight, she turned to grin at him.

She still hadn’t told him where they were headed, and he wasn’t familiar with this side of town. They’d traveled all the way across the city from Nellis Air Force Base, where he kept an apartment just outside. The shopfronts and signs marked this area as a commercial district, but most of the plate-glass windows were dark.

Signaling her intention, Cassandra turned left into an alley that spit out to a blacktopped parking lot. She smoothly pulled into a spot then shut off the engine.

Her hands were unsteady as she stuffed the keys into her purse. “Well, here we are.”

Ryan managed to unfold himself from the seat, but he didn’t have time to stretch the kinks in his lower back. He hustled around the nose of the car to open her door, grabbing the smallest glimpse down her cleavage to a pale bra. The orange glow of the parking-lot lights made the color difficult to pick out, but he imagined it might be pink to match the rosettes on her stockings.

He clenched the warm metal of the car door and cleared his throat. “I’m not even sure where here is.”

That seemed enough to reawaken her smile. Probably the reminder that he was at her mercy, as satisfying as it was. “You’ll see in a second.”

Ryan was happy to let her lead the way across the parking lot, mostly for the chance to watch her ass swivel. He also kept a sharp eye out, watching for anyone lurking in dark corners. Vegas thrived on its nightlife, but that meant the potential for criminals too—especially in a part of town he didn’t know or trust.

They made it to a plain door without any bogeymen popping out from the shadows. When he reached around Cassandra to push it open, Ryan found painted steel that still carried the warmth of the day. A small plaque read
Anna’s Boudoir
.

He lifted an eyebrow, but she only shook her head with a constrained smile. The door opened and red light spilled out, hiding what he thought might be a blush across her cheeks. A pounding bass beat swirled around them, delving his brain two or three levels down toward sex. As if he hadn’t already been headed that way. Maybe it was one of the off-Strip cabarets that catered to locals with risqué shows.

The narrow hallway didn’t spill into a small club.

It was a store. A sex store.

His pulse faltered. “Holy hell,” he breathed.

Ryan took the blow straight to his gut. His cock, which had barely stopped throbbing on the drive over, perked up.

The shelves and racks were filled with quality stuff. Gleaming leather floggers. A colorful array of dildos and vibrators. Gold and silver jewelry to adorn intimate piercings. This was no Walmart adult novelties aisle but a high-class kind of place.

Cassandra cast a sultry look over her shoulder. Something in his gobsmacked expression must have pleased her because she grinned. “Too weird?”

“Not at all.”

“I’ve known about this place forever,” she said, trailing her fingers over a rack of clothing. “I never got up the courage to actually come in.”

A hot rush of something primal made his chest feel even wider. “But you brought me here.”