Game's Over: A BWWM Romance (Game of Chance Book 3) (2 page)

Wes smiled at her and threw one arm over her shoulder. “Maybe we should make a trip down there, hmm? Test it out, just to be sure we’re not handing our contestants any bullshit?”

“Uh… well… I wasn’t going to suggest it. But if you think—”

“Absolutely,” Wes smacked his lips on Zenobia’s cheek. “We can’t stay the whole weekend, but we can surely make it a one-day trip.”

“But…the contest?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tasha cut in, a devilish look in her eye, “I’ll take care of ‘em.”

Zenobia shared a private look with Wes. A couple of days away to an A-list Spa sounded wonderful, but she knew how much Wes cared for the good of the club. And to be perfectly honest, she had no intention of leaving Tasha, ahem, “testing” the contestants without their supervision.

“We could leave tomorrow.” Zenobia looped her arms around Wes’s waist, a gleam in her eyes. “See who gets in tonight, and get back here to watch the second round of the contest.”

Wes nodded, and he looked almost relieved. Zenobia knew he would’ve put them before the club if push came to shove, but they were partners in more ways than one. She knew Wes and his OCD needed to be present at every major event. Despite his good intentions, Zenobia had an inkling there wouldn’t be much relaxing if the contest were happening without them.

“Well then, you can pick up the tickets yourselves, save them the trouble of posting,” Tasha said, taking out her cell phone. “I’m going to call them now and let them know you’ll need a full one-day treatment, okay?”

“Sounds great.” Zenobia turned in Wes’s arms and kissed him, lips moving slowly against one another. “Sounds fabulous.”

Wes giggled, an honest-to-God giggle, and they kissed again. They kept kissing even when Tasha cleared her throat, and throughout the phone call she put into the resort. Zenobia broke the kiss and smiled. Suddenly, she was very glad Wes had woken her up that morning.

Chapter 2

Grant stubbed out his cigarette on the ground, locked his car behind him and smiled at the queue of people lining up at Casa Blanca’s. He hadn’t been back to the club in a while. The one time he had gone back, he’d seen Zenobia behind the bar, laughing, low and intimate, with Wes himself, and the scene sort of lost its attraction for him.

It’s not like he was in love with Zenobia or anything. Grant didn’t do love. But he did attraction, and he did sex. He didn’t like to be scorned in anything, and for a few months, he had avoided Wes’s club.

Not for long, however. Turned out, there were very few places he could go to if he wanted the same kind of action he used to get at Casa Blanca’s. Grant had been most dismayed. He tried everything, but in the end, he had to admit it. There was a reason why people queued in front of the place from six in the evening.

So here he was. The Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell was the event of the year, according to pretty much every alpha male with a heartbeat, and Grant wasn’t going to let it pass by. Especially not for a woman who had rejected him. Grinning to himself, he shrugged on his leather jacket and stalked toward the entrance.

****

“Whoa.”

There weren’t many other words Zenobia could use to describe the turnout. People of all shapes flooded through the doors to sign up for the striptease contest, and even more were crowding around tables and barstools, ready to enjoy the show.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” Tasha nearly yelled in her ear. Zenobia grimaced and Rose laughed as she twirled a bottle of vodka in the air before filling up a set of shot glasses in front of her.

“It’s crazy,” Zenobia admitted, eyes scanning the crowd. “I didn’t even know the club could hold this many people.”

“It can’t.” Wes had sneaked past Zenobia without her noticing, and he put his arm on her hips with a cheeky smile. “We have, um, enhanced it for the week.”

“Clever bit of magic, too, if I say so myself.” Tasha waved her arm around at the lights shining from every angle.

“I don’t know how you always get away with it,” Zenobia told her sister. “It’s a wonder we’re still at large.”

“I know nothing.” Rose shook her head with a blinding grin as she passed the customers their one-shots. “I’m merely an employee.”

“If we go down for improper use of magic, we all go down together.”

“It’s not magic,” Tasha retorted, “It’s merely an extension of our culture. We have every right to express our deepest roots and if they fine us for that, we’ll just open a lawsuit.”

“A lawsuit?”

“Racism against curvy girls, Burke versus State. Look it up.”

Wes roared with laughter. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you two are related.”

“Tell me about it.” Zenobia groaned and hid her face in Wes’s chest, shoulders shaking with silent giggles.

After about an hour or so, Tasha let them go behind the scenes to organize those who had signed up for the first eliminatory round of the contest. Zenobia wasn’t all that sure about leaving her sister alone with so many willing men, but Wes was incredibly persuasive, and when the kiss ended, Tasha was nowhere to be seen. Zenobia sighed at the light in Wes’s eyes.

“You really trust her with this, don’t you?”

“She’s a good promoter,” Wes repeated for the umpteenth time. “And besides, it’s more fun if we just watch it happen.”

“Fun as in ‘oh this is awesome’ fun, or as in ‘oh this is the train wreck I can’t stop’ fun?”

Wes laughed again. “Relax, baby. She’s got it under control. It’s not the first time she’s done it.”

Zenobia rolled her eyes. She loved her sister, she really did, but she also knew her better than anyone. If it came to a choice between her getting laid and the contest running smoothly, well, it was a no-brainer.

“A bourbon. Straight.”

The voice stirred something funny in her stomach, and Zenobia turned around to see who Wes was serving -

And nearly had a heart attack right then and there.

Zenobia couldn’t mistake those eyes, or the cut of that jaw. She remembered the carpet burns on her knees as those teeth sank into her shoulder, his body blanketing her from behind as he fucked Zenobia across her own doorstep.

“Zenobia?”

Shit. “Um, nothing.” Way to be lame, honey.

Wes gave her the concerned look, but before she could excuse herself, Grant had turned around and fixed her with a predatory grin.

“Hey, Zenobia.”

Wes frowned. “You know him?”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of. I mean, I knew him. I mean, we’ve met.” When Wes kept staring at him, nonplussed, Zenobia sighed and elaborated. “Here. I met him here.”

Comprehension dawned in Wes’s eyes just as Grant slid his stool closer to them, raising his glass as though toasting them.

“Long time no see.”

“Hi.” Zenobia’s voice sounded foreign to her own ears, as though she was speaking from another time, a different place. “Um. How…how have you been?”

“Just great. As you have, I’m assuming.”

“She has,” Wes cut in, a possessive hand on Zenobia’s hip. “What brings you here…”

“Grant,” Grant finished for him. “And I thought it was obvious.” He stretched his arm to indicate the myriad of people cluttering about the club.

“You’re here for the contest, then?” Zenobia asked, and she didn’t quite manage to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.

Grant’s smile sort of faltered. “Why, you’re not glad to see me?”

“What would make you think she would be?”

Grant looked from Wes to Zenobia, then to Rose, who had stopped shaking a Martini and was looking over at the three of them with a raised eyebrow. Zenobia found herself wishing, not for the first time in her life, that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

The awkwardness stretched on for a few seconds, but it might as well have been hours from where Zenobia was standing. She hated to admit it, but for the first time in her life she was glad when Tasha popped up from behind the bar, an earpiece plugged in and a clipboard in her hands.

“Grant Klent? You’re first. Come on back, gorgeous.”

Grant smirked. He put a ten dollar bill down on the counter and downed the rest of his drink in one go.

“Enjoy, darling.”

****

Wes watched Grant go with disgust written so plainly on his face Zenobia was worried he’d pull him out of the contest on principle.

“So that’s your speed date?”

Zenobia sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I…well. Yeah.”

Rose pretended really hard she wasn’t listening in and went on mixing cocktails.

“Bit scrawny.”

“I didn’t notice,” Zenobia muttered, looking down at her feet, the tips of her ears burning.

“You didn’t, did you?”

“I was too preoccupied wondering about you thinking I was such a loser for not having a date.”

Wes’s glare softened, and he had the good grace of looking sheepish. “Sorry,” he whispered as he leaned in to nuzzle the side of his neck. “Guess I haven’t got much room to talk, given my past relationships.”

Zenobia said nothing. She tried not to think about Wes’s previous relationships because she really didn’t know how she felt about them, and she kind of liked the not knowing part. Jealousy never looked good on her.

Before they could further delve into that maybe-argument, the lights dimmed, the music slowed down to a stop, and a bright cone of light flashed on the stage. Tasha walked on it, looking completely at ease and relaxed as though she was born for it, enjoying the tumultuous applause from the eager crowd and bowing graciously before silencing them with a wave of her hand.

“Ladies, gentlemen, you’ve all come together tonight to celebrate with us the hottest summer you’ll ever remember.” Applause. “And I’m not just talking about the weather.” More applause, laughter. “So without further ado, let’s give it up for the first round of this year’s Summer Bombshell contestants!”

Grant strutted out on stage like he owned it. Zenobia felt incredibly awkward watching him sway his hips as he positioned himself in the middle of the stage, his back to the dancing pole. She could feel Wes’s eyes burning holes through his skull and she bit her lip, picking up a washrag at random and starting to clean up the bar.

The music started, some rock song Zenobia hadn’t heard before. She tried to keep his eyes on the bar, looking indifferent, but at the first loud cheer she slipped and lifted her eyes, looking straight up into one of the monitors that were scattered around the club, broadcasting the show for every patron. Grant had taken off his shirt. His broad chest was tanned and sprayed with glitter as he thrust his hips against the pole, his hand skimming down his own chest as he reached for his belt buckle.

I’m gonna give you every inch of my love…

The song continued as Grant matched the lyrics move for move, getting increasingly wild cheers from the crowd. Zenobia was pretty sure her face was on fire, and she could feel her knee burning with phantom bruises. Her unwelcomed arousal added to her shame and confusion.

Fuck, what a mess.

Grant rolled his hips and slid the belt out of his loops, throwing it around his neck as he bowed his head back, his crotch straddling the pole.

“It’s nothing,” Zenobia muttered, looking away again as the cheers grew louder. She didn’t dare check to see what Grant was doing to generate such response. Not when Wes was looking at her hard enough to read her thoughts.

“Was he good?”

Zenobia sighed. There was no way they could avoid this conversation, she supposed.

“I don’t exactly remember,” she said as she threw down the washcloth and crossed her arms over her breast. “What I remember is how I couldn’t get out of here without a date because then you’d know just how big a loser I was. And the very next day I remember coming to you, right here, and… well, I don’t remember anything before that. Only after.”

Wes looked slightly chastised. He sighed and looked round to the stage. Grant was rolling around against the pole, clad only in sinfully tight black Speedos as the guitar solo picked up in tempo. Zenobia looked back at Wes, and her stomach jolted.