All In (10 page)

“The river card,” Skip mumbles.

Vice takes a minute to look at his cards, his expression not readable once again.

“Ooh, I can’t take this,” Instead of fingernails, I was now biting skin. “Please, oh please,”

“All in, woo!” Chase pushes his stacks of chips to the middle of the table, then bounces up and down frivolously. I have never seen someone so restless in my life.

With both hands, Vice slid his stack into the pot. “All in,” he finally said as he sat back looking completely relaxed in his chair. He took a glance at me then winked making my heart pound wildly in my chest. Only for a moment I had forgotten about everything that was going on.

“This time it’s all you, Jackson,” Chase was still pacing, breathing rapidly, hands on his hips staring at Vice.

“You sure you’re ready, Miller?” both Vice’s brows raised in an attempt to make Chase even more anxious, possibly make his heart explode.

“Come on!” Chase urged. His face turning red.

“You’re looking awfully red there, Miller. Could it be a flush?” Vice fanned his cards on the table revealing a straight in the same heart suit. “My straight flush, that is?”

“Fuck yes, Vice! That’s my boy!” Skip stood in his seat, he clapped his hands then fist pumped the air.

“Is that good, Skip?” I tugged on his jeans.

“Hell yes, that’s good!” he clapped aloud again. “Woo!”

“Fuck you, Jackson!” Chase punched the table top.

“Let’s see those cards, Miller,” Vice says back with a smile.

“Royal flush,” Chase leaned on his knuckles atop the table.

“Bullshit, show me,” Vice demands.

“You don’t need to see my cards, asshole,” he scrunched the cards in his fist.

A guy wearing a red jacket came up behind Chase. “Sir, you need to place your cards,”

“Get the fuck off me,” Chase shrugged his shoulders.

“Sir, let me have your cards. This is your last warning,” he had his hand out to Chase.

I could hear cameras clicking from all around me, taking pictures and filming the embarrassing scene that my brother was causing upon himself.

“Fuck you,” Chase then spit in the guys face. Security guards came from every corner of the poker room, tackling my brother.

The man in the red jacket took the wrinkled cards from my brothers grip. He carefully looked over the cards.

“No royal flush. Three of a kind,” he turned toward Vice. “Vice Jackson is the winner. Congratulations on the win, Mr. Jackson,” he shook Vice’s hand.

“Ah!” I stood up from my seat and started jumping up and down, clapping my hands as everyone cheered for my Vice. “He did it! He did it!” I quickly grabbed Skip, squeezing him tightly. I was beyond excited.

“Hell yes, he did!” he managed to say under my hold around his waist. “You’re crushing me, Har,”

I quickly let go. “Har?” I laughed.

“Yeah, Har,” he shrugged. “Or, I could call you, Low. You know like the Apple Bottom Jeans song; Shawty had Apple Bottom jeans, boots with fur…” he broke out in dance moves as he rapped next to me. Smacking his ass with his hand.

“With the fur,” he then sang loudly in my face, his breath blew the stray hairs from my face. “The whole club was lookin’ at her… shawty got low, low, low, low-””

“No, no. Stop…” I chuckled, then looked around me. “Har is fine, no Low,” I tried not to laugh at his childish scene, patting his back.

“That was awesome, can I call you Low, please?” his voice monotone.

“No,” I shook my head. “You can’t,”

“Get off of me!” Rang through the cheering crowd.

I looked over, Chase had managed to free himself from the guards. He was running around the room trying to dodge security. His chest huffing crazily, his face was bright red and his forehead dripping with sweat. I closed my eyes, shaking my head. What is going on with him?

I then opened my eyes. Vice was smiling at me and Skip, squeezing through the crowd of people patting his back, taking his picture and shaking his hand congratulating him on his win.

“What was with the dance, sweetheart?” he playfully, and lightly smacked Skip on the cheek.

“It looked hot didn’t it?” he smiled getting right back to the song. “Shawty had Apple Bottom jeans, boots with the fur-”

“Skip,” I eyed him.

Vice wrapped his arms around my waist, his eyes on Skip. “You are so gay,”

“You’re right. I am gay. I am extremely gay!” he jumped up on top of his chair, his arms in the air. People staring. “I’m gay as fuck that you kicked coke boys ass! Yaya’! Up top!” he held his hand in the air for Vice to high five him. Vice shook his head, laughing at his crazy friend.

“Congratulations, handsome,” I said lowly against his cheek, hugging him tightly.

“Thanks, babe,” he kissed the crease of my neck, giving me goose bumps.

I leaned back to look at him. “You’re welcome,”

He stared into my eyes, his brown eyes full of excitement which made my core flood with warmth. “Have you ever made love on five hundred thousand dollars?”

“I haven’t,” I took a deep breath in, letting my jagged breath escape my lips. I clenched my thighs tightly together, I stifled a moan.

“Let’s go get the money,” he smiled, nodding toward the door. “Where’s Skip?” he looked around the crowd for his friend.

“Over there,” I pointed to the door. Skip had his arm around the shoulders of the same girl in the lavender sundress he was all over earlier, escorting her out the doors.

“Such a pimp,” Vice laughed, taking my hand and leading me to the doors.

“Jackson!” Chase screamed, making me jump. The room grew suddenly, eerily silent.

Vice and I quickly turned around, his hand on the heavy double doors. Chase was standing at the table shaking convulsively, his face still abnormally red, his teeth were clenched tightly.

“Fuck you! This isn’t over!” he then growled loudly, punching the table top. I heard it crack beneath his fist. His bloody hand raised, he smiled looking like a crazed maniac as he pointed in our direction. His blue eyes held something in them that I had never seen before, it scared me. Chase opened his arms as the guards reached him, letting them place his hands behind his back as they shoved my brothers face into the green felt. I was relieved for that very moment, but undoubtedly, he would be released within hours.

“Come on, Harlow,” he pulled on my hand, taking me through the doors.

We had to go to a special room in which they counted the multiple one hundred dollar bills adding up to the five hundred grand in front of us. As the counter flipped through the bills, the smell of cash circled my senses. We sat in chairs across the room, Vice held my hand never taking it eyes off of the counter. He Didn’t even blink. I could tell that he had a lot on his mind- what my brother was capable of, and what his next move would be. My heart ached for both Vice, and my brother. It was a confusing feeling to feel heartbroken for both of them at the same time. One was being harassed by the other, and one had a horrible drug problem. One thing I was for sure of was that I needed to do something to get Chase off of Vice’s back.

The counting process took nearly an hour, leaving us walking out with a black leather suitcase with ‘Mirage’ across the front filled with bundled bills. They had four security guards escort us outside and into a complimentary limo, taking us to Vice’s apartment. The ride was quiet with no words exchanged.

“Congratulations, Mr. Jackson,” one security guard said, letting us out of the limo in front of Vice’s apartment complex. His hand held on the limo's open door.

“Thank you,” Vice said, stepping out first. Suitcase in one hand, mine in the other. The security guards stood behind, watching us until we walked through his front door.

“Front door service,” I giggled. “You’re a celebrity now, Mr. Vice Jackson,” I followed him into his bedroom where I closed the door behind us.

Vice set the suitcase on top of his bed without a word, it clicked open. He smiled widely at the cash, then looked at me.

“Are you ready, Harlow?” his voice was seductive and deep.

I swallowed hard, my back against his door. My core was aching for him already.

“For you? Always,” I mumbled. I knew what he was asking. There was no way I could forget. I took my tank top off and unbuttoned my black shorts, letting them fall to the floor with hidden anticipation. There was nothing I enjoyed more than being intimate with Vice.

Vice eyed my body from my eyes to my toes then back up again, he groaned. “Come here,” he motioned his finger for me to come to him.

As I took slow, sexy steps toward him I unclasped my bra exposing myself for his liking. I stopped a few feet away. “Strip,” I smirked.

“What?” he chuckled. His cheeks were turning red.

“Are you embarrassed, Mr. Jackson?” I raised my brows, totally enjoying his bashfulness. “Strip,” I said again.

He quickly took his navy blue t-shirt that clung to the muscles of his biceps and chest off, letting it hang on his fingertips for only a moment before he let it fall to the floor.

I eyed his chest, biting my bottom lip. His pecks twitched. “Pants,” I breathed.

“As you wish,” he smiled, unbuckling his belt. He then unbuttoned his faded blue jeans, letting them fall around his ankles.

I finally took him in, all of him. From his luscious sex lines to his abs, up his chest, then across his shoulders and down his arms. Each part which were full of bright colored ink. Sporadically through the spiraled color of the skulls, roses, and guns were poker cards and dice. Though, the tattoo that stuck out the most was of the same baby blue bird he had inked upon my shoulder blade was underneath his right collarbone. A matching red bird underneath his left. In between the birds words were scripted; free from our past, together. I gasped thinking back remembering that day in his shop like it were yesterday.

I had joked around telling him he should get the same tattoo because there was nothing in the world better than being free as a bird. That we should be free from our past, together. The last several times we had been naked together, I never took the time to notice this tattoo, or any of them for that matter.

“Free from our past…” I pointed to the two birds. “together,” I started to cry. The red bird was holding a rose in it's beak, and the baby blue bird was holding a lily. It was by far the sexiest yet romantic gesture I had ever seen. I took a few steps closer, tracing my fingertips across the letters.

“With you, I am free,” he whispered against my lips. “The only time in my life I am clear headed and don’t think about anything and everything is when I am with you. You free me, Harlow Jean,” He used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears from my cheeks.

I sobbed, pressing my lips wanting to share with him my happiness. He placed his strong hands across my back, holding me tightly against him. I opened my mouth letting his tongue caress mine making all of my senses explode within me, soaking my panties with heated passion and desire.

Vice turned our bodies placing me on my back gently upon his bed. I scooted against his pillows, not breaking our kiss even once. I spread my legs farther open, welcoming his presence above me. He sat up, cupping my breasts in his hands taking each nipple into his mouth. He caressed one after another with his tongue, I was writhing underneath his touch.

“I love you,” he whispered against my chest, his breath sweeping across my wet nipple making me moan.

“I love you, too, Vice,” I breathed out.

He sat upon his knees, reaching into the open suitcase. He held two bundles of cash in each hand, ripping the paper around them off.

“Ready?” he smiled.

“As I’ll ever be… Shower me, baby,” I laughed aloud.

He threw the money in the air, then more and more. I reached my hands high, laughing as the money tickled my skin, it was falling all around me. I watched the many faces of Benjamin Franklin, and multiple structures of the Independence Hall flip wildly matching the beat of my heart.

I felt Vice’s stare on me. I lowered my hands, making eye contact with the sexiest set of brown eyes I had ever seen. For the first time in years, I could actually feel that someone loved me… I could see it.

Chapter Seven

Vice

There was nothing more that could make my dick hard other than being between Harlow’s legs while at the same time we were swimming in a sea of a half a million dollars. Money has never been an addiction, but seeing it surrounding my only addiction, it made me fucking crazy. Every guy loves a little green with his pink, if you catch my drift.

She was staring back at me while her fingertips traced the red bird on my chest. I would be lying if I said that wasn't worried as hell when Harlow had noticed the birds. I always tried to prepare myself if this day were to ever come. Needless to say, I wasn’t embarrassed- me? No way. I was panicking inside, worried I would be called a freak of the sorts.

I remember that day at the shop when she had brought me the sketch of the bird. She had begged me to match it throughout the entire session, but came to mind was an idea of my own. I had Skip give me the tattoo after my last client that night not caring if Harlow and me ever gotten together, or if we just stayed friends through Mad Tatter. It didn’t matter. My tattoos each mean something of importance to me, and Harlow, she made an impact on my life. Even if it meant only having that wonderful difference through her for a few hours every few months for the rest of my career. She still meant something.

Harlow sat up, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Hold me,” she whispered.

I sat back, stretching my legs across the bed as she straddled me. Wrapping her arms and legs around me tightly, I held her close. Harlow started rubbing her wet sex on me as she squeezed me tighter. We couldn’t be any closer. With one swift movement of her hips forward, I slid right in. She moaned loudly into my ear making a shiver run down my spine and through my erection.

“Harlow, I don't have a condom on,” I reminded her, trailing kisses across her neck.

“I need to feel you, Vice,” she moaned, rolling her hips becoming wetter. How that was even possible, I had no clue.

The last few words that had escaped her lips brought me to the edge. I wrapped my arms tighter around her hips, pulling her down harder against me. My hips working with hers in a passionate rhythm.