Gambling with Gabriella (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing For Love Book 2) (9 page)

T
his time
, I’m a little early to Bulldog’s game. I’m hoping that Ed will be early as well, so that I can attempt to seduce him.

Seduce my ass,
a skeptical voice inside me mocks. I don’t think I’m capable of being the temptress. Still, the silk blouse I’m wearing shows plenty of cleavage, and my jeans hug my ass. Men like looking at tits and ass, right? I’m hoping that after a few months in jail, Ed’s eager to get laid.

A thousand thoughts buzz about in my brain, like bees in a hive. Carter’s line of questioning about Sammy makes me suspect that he thinks I was drugged that night. Was I? I can’t be sure. All I know is that I wasn’t acting like myself on Saturday night. I don’t usually play with such high stakes.

I make a decision, one that simultaneously terrifies me and excites me. Carter and Dominic have given me no reason to doubt them. Though it is difficult for me to have faith, I’m going to trust the two of them.
Even if it means that I’m putting my heart on the line.

A
s I hoped
, Ed is early. He walks in and sits down at the empty seat next to me. Remembering my resolution to seduce him, I move my chair a little closer to him and I smile brightly. "Hey there," I say. "Fancy seeing you here."

He grunts a reply. Not a talker, Ed. That's okay though. I have no idea what to say to him either.

I think of my Aunt Maria, my father's sister. She's a natural at this. Men flock around her, drawn to her giggles and the fluttering of her eyelashes, the way she winds her fingers through her hair. Taking a leaf out of her book, I wrap a strand of my hair through my fingers and try to look seductive, but if Ed notices, he doesn’t let on.
Ugh
. Kill me now.

I blame my mother for my utter inability to flirt. Elizabeth Alves is the quintessential English rose. She never raises her voice in public and she has never fluttered her eyelashes, not even once in her life. Yet somehow, she has my dad wrapped around her little finger.

Judging from Ed’s utter obliviousness to my seduction attempt, I haven’t inherited either my mother’s ability to make people fall in love with her, or my aunt’s ability to have men eating out of the palm of her hand. But I need to do something, and there’s an urgency to the situation. We have no guarantees that Ed Wagner is going to keep coming back to Bulldog’s poker tables, and we are no closer to finding Noah than we were yesterday.

The game starts. The dealer deals us in, and I look at the cards in my hand. Not great, not bad. A pair of kings and a two of hearts. The next round of cards, I pick up a seven of clubs. That's completely useless to me, yet I elect to stay in the game. I’m not playing to win tonight. I’m playing to gain the trust of both Bulldog and Ed.

The hours tick on. I win a couple of hands, but not enough money to attract undue notice. Things are going according to plan, and Ed is softening towards me. A few times, he makes a joke, and each time, I giggle. Honestly, I sound like an idiot, but it’s working. It’s like my friend Wendy says.
The secret to keeping a boyfriend happy is to laugh at all their jokes, and assure them they are the best sex you’ve ever had.
Of course, Wendy’s a divorce lawyer, and her profession has made her cynical about love. Still, it seems to be working on Ed right now.

When it is time for a smoking break, I once again rise and follow Ed outside to the small parking lot. The night is dark, and the air is dry. Tonight, I've come prepared with a pack of cigarettes, and I take one and hold it to my lips. Without prompting, Ed offers me a light. That's an improvement over last night, when he just lobbed a lighter in my direction. A glimmer of hope pierces through me. Maybe I'm making inroads after all.

Then I inhale smoke and start coughing.

"You're not really a smoker, are you?" Ed asks me, and his tone is hostile.

Shit. I'm caught. Frantically, I try to think about what to say, and I decide to go for broke. I need to tell him the truth, but not the whole truth.
A minor variant of the truth.

"I'm not really," I admit sheepishly. I worry a strand of hair between my teeth, and I try to look both coy and bashful. I'm channeling Aunt Maria at her flirtatious best. "To be honest, I'm trying to flirt." I laugh, an embarrassed sound. "I'm not doing very well, am I?"

"With me?" he asks. His eyes stay hard, but he takes a step towards me.

"There's no one else here."

He moves closer, and I fight the urge to back away. He presses me against the building wall and his mouth collides with mine. In vain, I bring my hands up to his chest, but before I push him away, I remember that I need him to kiss me. This is the only way I can get him to take me home. This is the only way Carter can find Noah.

But when he kisses me, I feel violated. His mouth smells like an ashtray and when his tongue makes contact with mine, it feels like I’m licking soot. More than that, I feel wrongness. It feels like I'm cheating on Dominic and Carter, and I hate it.

His tongue flaps around in my mouth like a fish wiggling on a line, and I push back the urge to retch. I make moaning noises, and he’s encouraged enough to squeeze my breast through my clothes. I groan again, trying to sound like I’m in the throes of passion. "Please," I beg.

I wonder if I'm doing enough to sell this.

Suddenly, abruptly, Ed pulls away from me. There’s lust in his eyes, but the suspicion hasn’t evaporated completely. I open my mouth to say something but he interrupts. "I'll see you upstairs?" he asks me.

I adjust my top and run my fingers through my hair, curving my lips into what I hope is a sexy smile. "Sure thing," I tell him.

But when I go upstairs, he is nowhere to be seen. The rest of the night, the seat next to me stays empty. Ed Wagner has disappeared.

T
hey say
that that the darkest hour is before dawn. I desperately hope so.

As I drive back to the Grand River, dreading the idea of telling Carter that I have failed once again, I cannot see a bright side to this. What did I do wrong that Ed Wagner disappeared? I have no idea. Something must have tipped him off.

The tears start pooling at my eyes. Yesterday, I was confident that Bulldog would invite me to play poker, and that Ed Wagner would be there, and Noah would be found quickly and without fuss. Today, I have no such faith.

Just when I was beginning to be hopeful that there might be some kind of future for the three of us, I have failed Dominic and Carter, I don’t know what to do next.

B
ecause I’m carrying
the tracker, Carter and Dominic can trace my route, and they know that something’s wrong when I head back to the casino. When I pull into the parking lot, they are there waiting for me. I brace myself for Carter’s anger, but if he’s furious, he hides it well as he listens to what happened.

“I’m sorry.” I bite my lip hard, hoping the pain will keep me from bursting into the tears that have threatened to erupt all the way back. “I’m so sorry, Carter. I failed you.” But I can’t hold back the deluge. Tears start dripping down my cheeks. I bow my head in the dimly lit parking lot, and hope neither of them have noticed.

Dominic makes a distressed sound, and Carter pulls me into his arms and holds me tight. I feel the strength in his embrace, and I take comfort in it. “Gabby,” he says. “You did what you could.”

“I don’t want you to hate me,” I bawl. If something happens to Noah, I’m terrified that Carter will never be able to forgive me.

He soothes me with a kiss on my lips. “I could never hate you,” he says simply. His hand strokes my back, and his thumb massages my tense muscles. “How could you think that, Gabby?”

“Come,” Dominic adds. “Let’s go back to your room, princess. Why don’t you shower and head to bed? Things will look better in the morning.”

“Not a shower,” I mutter. “A bath. I’ve been lusting after that Jacuzzi tub.” I hesitate before plunging ahead with my request. “Will the two of you join me?”

I’m still wrapped up in Carter’s embrace. His grip on me tightens. Next to us, Dominic chuckles lightly. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, princess.”

D
ominic draws the bath
, ignoring my protests that I can do it myself. “I’m sure you can, Gabby,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Humor me though. Let me take care of you.” While he’s doing this, a waiter arrives and drops off a bottle of chilled white wine and three glasses. “You hungry?” Dominic asks me. “I can call him back and order some food.”

I shake my head. Steam is rising off the bathwater, and I just want to luxuriate in the heat, sandwich myself between these two men and forget this evening. Not just this evening. For one night, I want to forget all my cares. I head to the living room to see if Carter wants to join me in the tub.

Carter’s sitting on the couch, his legs stretched out. He looks far more relaxed than I would have expected. “Are you closer to finding Ed?” I ask him. “You don’t look very upset with me.”

“We’ll find him, Gabby,” he responds. “And we’ll find Noah. I have teams of people working around the clock on this. No one can hide forever.”

That’s a frustrating answer. Yesterday, finding Noah was the most urgent priority. Today, Carter doesn’t seem fazed by my failure. “Don’t coddle me, Carter,” I snap in warning. “I know I’ve let you down.”

He shakes his head and gestures to me, patting his lap. The message is clear.
Come sit on me.
Desire, sly and unbidden, rises in response, and I obey. “You haven’t let me down,” he says, when his arms are once again around me. “You had an impossible task, and I was a fool to think that this situation would resolve itself in just one day.” His fingers brush a lock of my hair back from my cheek and I fight the urge to grab his hand and kiss it. “But it will resolve, do not fear.”

Dominic, who’s finished running the bath, joins us in the living room. He pours some wine into a glass, and hands it to me. “I should also point out that resolving this situation isn’t your responsibility,” he adds. “It’s ours.”

“I don’t think so. As Carter noted earlier this evening, protectiveness is a two-way street,” I tell him. “If you want to take care of me, you’ll have to accept that I’m going to feel the same way.”

His lips twitch. “Touché.” He fills two more glasses, one for Carter and one for himself, and we lift our glasses up in a toast. “To second chances,” he says.

A second chance.
Life offers very few of them. I don’t know what lies in the future. But right now, though I’m both tired and weary, I want to seize this opportunity and make the most of it. I rise to my feet and walk towards the bathroom. “Join me?” I ask them. “I’ve always fantasized about two gorgeous guys washing my back.”

Carter’s eyes glint. “I think we can help you out there.”

In the bathroom, I strip slowly, savoring the look of heat in their eyes. They shed their clothes much quicker, and I’m thrilled that they are both hard, both ready. They’ve made no secret of the fact that they want me, and their bodies bear witness.

They get in the tub ahead of me, and Dominic’s grey eyes fill with lust as he surveys my naked body. “Gabby,” he says. “Do you want to play a game?”

“I
am
a gambler,” I respond.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” His voice is satisfied. “Follow my instructions.”

I think back to last night, to the hard spanks that sent bolts of lust shooting through my entire being. I think I’m being offered that right now,
and more
.

And I want more. Dominic’s dominance is smoother and more refined than Carter’s, but it’s definitely there. Last night, Carter had growled orders, but it was Dominic who spanked me, and my guess is that that was just the start.

“Get in,” Dominic says, tapping the space between him and Carter. “What are you waiting for?”

I wink at him. “I’m following instructions,” I say meekly. “You know, I’m doing only what you tell me.”

Carter laughs and Dominic’s lips lift in a smile. When he speaks, I can tell he’s fighting not to laugh, but he sounds stern. “Do you want to get spanked for being a brat, Gabby?”

Yes, but not tonight. Tonight, I want softness. The bottle of wine is on a ledge near us, and I want to lie back, soak in the steam, and relax. I step into the tub, and moan as my skin makes contact with the water. “God, this is perfect,” I breathe, settling down on the ledge between the two of them. “Why don’t I have a tub like this in Manhattan?”

Dominic hands me the glass of wine I’d given him to hold, and I sip at the chilled liquid. He lets me take a small mouthful before his hands curl around the stem of my glass and he urges it from my grip. I give him a curious look, but he just gives me an enigmatic smile. “Remember, do what you are told.”

I nod. “Okay.” My nipples harden with anticipation; my skin prickles with desire.

Carter’s hand dips below the water surface and he cups my breast. Meanwhile, Dominic urges my knees apart, and places my thigh over his own. On the other side, Carter does the same, effectively locking me with my legs open.

They’ve hardly touched me, and I’m already on fire. And that has nothing to do with the temperature of the water I’m soaking in, and everything to do with the two men who flank me.

“Put your hands on your thighs,” Dominic instructs. “And don’t move them.”

“No,” I pout. “I want to touch you.” Their cocks are stiff and erect. I want to curl my fingers around their thick lengths and feel their hardness. I want to discover how long I can hold my breath underwater when I taste them. After all, though I went down on Carter yesterday, I haven’t had the opportunity to do that with Dominic yet.

“Did you not promise to obey, Gabby?” Carter asks. The tone of his voice is lazy, and he takes a long sip of his wine, his eyes on mine. “Are you too afraid to listen?”

“Listen to me, hotshot,” I start angrily, then realize I’ve been baited. “Damn you, Carter,” I say to him, trying not to giggle. “That’s not playing fair.”

“No one promised fairness, princess,” Dominic says. His voice hardens. “Hands on thighs. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

I shiver, liquid lust running through my veins. My palms move to rest against my thighs.
As ordered.

“Good girl,” Dominic says approvingly. “Want a sip of your wine?”

I nod, and he brings the glass to my lips. I tilt my head back and swallow, closing my eyes as the cool liquid runs down my throat. Without the use of my hands, I feel helpless, but the way he’s feeding me the wine is so strangely intimate. I feel very precious. Cherished. I’m not used to feeling this way.

Except in the last two days.

That’s too heavy a thought for the moment. Right now, Dominic’s stroking my skin under the water, and Carter has, with a grin that bodes trouble for me, leaned forward to turn the Jacuzzi jets on.

Oh.
Oh.

With my legs parted, and my hands held captive, I can’t flinch away from the pulse of water that’s aimed directly at my sex. The jets throb against my pussy, and my hips roll and pump as I try to position myself just so. I’m not sure if I’m trying to avoid the stream from hitting my clitoris, or if I’m trying to embrace the feeling of intensity it causes.

“Stop.” Dominic’s voice is calm and controlled. “Don’t move. You don’t make the rules, princess.” His fingers stroke my nipples, his neatly trimmed fingernails scratching my skin. “Stay still, else Carter will turn that jet up.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I mumble.

Dominic chuckles. “Not really,” he admits. He pets me with his left hand, on my breasts and my thighs, hovering over my mound, but refusing to touch my clitoris. With his right hand, he fists himself.

I’m already ready to whine and beg him to touch my pussy. But when I see him stroke that cock, the one that I ache to explore with my tongue? It takes all my willpower to keep silent.

Though Dominic seems intent on testing my ability to balance at the edge of pleasure, Carter isn’t as cruel. He scoops some hot water and trickles it over my skin. His mouth follows the liquid, kissing a path from my shoulders to my chest, then to my breasts.

My nipples engorge even further, if such a thing is possible. Carter releases my thigh from his grasp and moves in front of me, cutting off the jet of water that’s been massaging my core. I breathe a sigh of mingled relief and frustration. Then he pushes my breasts together and bends his head over them, and I moan and forget all about the water, because
oh my fucking god.

As he bites and nips those tender buds, sending sharp spikes of intense pleasure through me, Dominic’s fingers grip my chin, and he tilts my head towards him. As Carter plays with my breasts, he kisses me slowly, leisurely, as if kissing is the goal itself, not a prelude to the heavier action. Any other time, I’d admire his restraint and his willingness to engage in foreplay. But desire coils tight in my belly. There’s two guys with erections next to me, and I’m impatient.

Yet I obey, keeping my legs parted and my hands on my thighs, because it also feels good to see how much I can take. I’m masochistic enough to want to see how hard I can be wound up before I can’t hold back my need.

Carter takes a deep breath, then lowers his head below the water, diving for my pussy. I squeak in surprise. “How long can you hold your breath?” I have to ask. “It’s a mood-killer if you drown, you know.”

He spanks my pussy to quieten me. If I weren’t submerged in water, his strike would undoubtedly produce a sharp stab of pain, but the water muffles the spank to a dull thud, one I want to experience again. “So good,” I breathe. “Do that again.”

“No talking,” Dominic chides. “No smart-assery. No thinking. Just feel, princess. Put your head back and let us pleasure you.”

You do pleasure me,
I want to say to them. You give me more than any man ever has.

But those are the thoughts I’m not allowing myself to think, because those are the yearnings of someone who wants more, and I’ve learned that I cannot be that woman.

Carter’s mouth closes over my clitoris. He sucks that nub between his teeth, and I come off the bench. “Oh my god,” I moan, inadvertently disobeying Dominic’s edict. “Please…”

As Carter comes up for air, Dominic has a wicked gleam in his eyes. He tops up our glasses with the last of the wine, then he moves the bottle towards me, rolling the cold glass over my nipples. Again, I almost buckle at the sea of sensation that I’m swimming in. The contrast of the cold against the hot water, the dull throb of the jets of water that continue to pulse towards me now that Carter’s no longer in the way - it’s all too much. Is it possible to die of pleasure? Because I’m at a serious risk of it.

Then Dominic immerses the bottle into the water, and moves it towards my pussy, and I realize what his intent is. There’s more pleasure ahead. More toe-curling, full-body-shiver pleasure.

“Keep your hands on your thighs,” he whispers into my ear. “Okay, princess?”

I nod my acquiescence. The neck of the bottle enters my overheated sex, and I groan. It’s still a little cool, but warming rapidly. Both Carter and Dominic look at me, never taking their eyes off me. As Dominic fucks me with the wine bottle and I shudder and writhe my way to an orgasm, their gazes sear into me. I feel the heat of their desire, and it sends me over the edge. I climax hard, muscles clenching, limbs flailing, every inch of my body surrendering to pleasure.

When the waves of lust slowly recede, Carter holds my wine glass at my lips. I gulp the liquid, spilling some of it down my chest. His fingers scoop up each droplet, and he feeds them to me, and I suck his fingers as if they were his dick.
Fuck me,
I want to plead. My nails bite into my skin with the effort of keeping my hands on my thighs.

Dominic sits back up, looking satisfied, and thankfully, he lowers the intensity of the jets of water that drum against my ultra-sensitive clitoris. “Let me please you,” I whisper to both of them. “Please.”