Money Shot (5 page)

“No pressure.” She shifted nervously, hearing the stickman calling for last bets.

“Don’t worry. I can afford to lose it.” He chuckled, his breath warm.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Nervous?” he asked, pressing her against the table with his body.

She nodded, swallowing as she glanced around, everyone’s gaze turning toward her as the dice started making their way down the table, guided by the curved stick.

“Excited?” he whispered, his thigh between hers. Oh God, the feel of him, the heat of his words, the memory of his mouth, soft and wet and open on hers. What in the hell was happening?

She nodded and gave a little whimper, trying to concentrate. She was standing at a craps table in the middle of Caesar’s Palace and this man was practically bending her over the table in front of everyone. A slow flush heated her cheeks at the thought. Her nipples were so hard they hurt and she noticed the stickman noticing as he deposited the dice in front of her.

“Does it make you wet?” Dorian whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, making her close her eyes with a silent plea for strength. She thought her knees were actually going to give out and was grateful for the weight of him behind her, pressing her flush against the table.

“Yes,” she admitted, lips barely moving as she opened her eyes with a shuddery breath, blinking at the bright green felt on the table. He was right there, hands on either side of the table beside her, body snugged tight to hers, his mouth against her ear.

“Win,” he whispered.

“Dice back in play!” The stickman announced as Jodie reached for the dice in a trance. She wasn’t thinking about anything except Dorian when she rolled—his hands, his mouth, the hard press of his cock against the curve of her ass. Just his trousers and the thin material of her dress separated them, and everyone—
everyone
—was watching.

“Ten easy! Big Dick!” The stickman shouted, making Jodie’s whole body flush with heat. She expected Dorian to say something, like he had about the stickman “short sticking” her, but he didn’t.

“The six and the four,” Dorian murmured, chuckling. “They call it the ‘big dick.’”

How fitting
, she thought, all too aware of the man’s throbbing erection against her ass. She thought his kiss had been a surprise, making her instantly wet, but this was something else altogether. Her pussy wasn’t just wet, it was aching, pure torture between her thighs. It was overwhelming. It made her want him to fuck her. Right there. In front of everyone. Somehow the audience made the whole fantasy even hotter.

“What’s that ‘come’ all about?” Jodie asked, watching people put more chips on the green felt in the section marked “come.”

“If you’re a good girl, I’ll teach you about that later,” he replied, shifting his weight. It was a casual thing, but it made his cock rub against her ass. A little shiver went through her as she imagined him inside of her, impaling her, inch by glorious inch. She could imagine the already-shocked bridesmaids watching in horror and dismay as Dorian Cole bent her over, shoved up her skirt, yanked her panties aside, and just took her.

“Now win for me,” Dorian whispered, his breath coming almost as fast as hers as the stickman called for last bets and slid the dice their way. No one could hear them over the crowd they’d drawn. It felt like the whole casino had surrounded the table to watch.

His words thrilled her. Jodie picked up the dice, everything tingling, from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. She looked at the dice in her hand and asked them in her mind for a six. A pretty six, any way they wanted—two threes; or a one and a five; or a two and a four—it didn’t matter. As long as the numbers added up to six, she’d be happy. The whole table would be happy. Dorian would be happy.

“Six easy, pay the line! Pay the line!” The stickman announced and the place erupted like they were at a concert and the main act had just taken the stage.

“We won!” Kimber screamed, turning to Jodie and kissing her cheek. “Oh my fucking God, you lucky little dice whore, we won!”

Jodie couldn’t help laughing as the girls all hugged, jumping around. People around the table smiled, high-fiving. Behind her, the man who had made her wet made her even wetter by grabbing her around the waist, burying his face in her neck and breathing deep.

“You lucky little dice whore,” he whispered, kissing her neck, the words sounding completely different out of his mouth than they had coming out of Kimber’s.

“Your winnings, sir.” The dealer nodded toward the equal stack of five-thousand-dollar chips he’d put on the table next to the first. Jodie felt faint realizing they represented ninety thousand dollars, all put together.

“Parlay.” Dorian didn’t take his nose out of Jodie’s neck, where he was making her cotton panties so wet it was shameful. “We’re still going.”

“I’m sorry sir.” The dealer shook his bald head, pushing the chips off the pass line toward him. “There’s a fifty-thousand max on the pass line.”

“You won’t let it ride?” Dorian’s head came up and Jodie shivered at the tone of his voice. He didn’t sound happy at that—not at all.

“Let me make a call.” The dealer reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. They watched him make the call as the stickman called for people to place their bets. She couldn’t believe it was still her—she was still rolling. How long had it been?

“Sir, this is…” The dealer got quiet, listening, glancing up toward the ceiling. Jodie followed his line of sight and realized he was looking at a camera. Of course, they were all over the casino. “Ninety thousand… That’s right… Yes, sir.”

“We’ll let it ride, Mr. Cole,” the dealer said with a smile, sliding the chips all back onto the pass line. Just that action made Jodie feel a little ill. “Ninety on the pass.”

“Holy fuck,” Kimber whispered beside her. “Jodie, if you crap out…”

“Shut up.” Jodie nudged her, throwing her a withering glance. “Don’t you dare jinx me!”

But there was no such thing as luck, right? It was all math—statistics. So what were the chances that she could keep rolling and winning? The casino would know the odds.

Oh my God, that’s why they let him make the bet. They knew he was going to lose!

“Dorian…” It was the first time she’d said his name out loud and it felt good, right, in her mouth. “Maybe you shouldn’t…”

“Let’s ride it out.” He shifted against her, so damned hard she actually made a little noise in her throat at the feel of him. “Isn’t it exciting?”

Nodding, she had to admit, it was. In so very many ways.

“Seven or eleven,” he reminded her softly once bets were placed and the dice were pushed their way, but she knew.

She was already telling the dice what she wanted them to do in her head as she picked them up off the felt in one hand. She saw several people were betting against her. It wasn’t just possible that she would throw craps—it had to be more than a probability.
Ninety thousand dollars.
That much money could have paid her college loans with enough left over to buy a small house.

“Win, Jodie.”

Oh my God, her name, he said her name and it moved over her like a caress. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and threw the dice. She imagined them bouncing off the “rubber alligator,” as the stick man had described the corrugated rubber backing on each end of the table, bouncing, landing…

“YO! Eleven!”

Kimber screamed so loud beside her Jodie thought she might have actually gone deaf in her right ear for a minute. The girls jumped up and down like little kids and everyone surrounding the table cheered. The only people who grumbled were the people who had bet against her. Dorian laughed, turning her in his arms and planting a very big kiss on her lips in the excitement.

She broke it off quickly, too afraid of what Kimber and the triplets would say, but the memory of his mouth swept through her instantly, turning her legs to Jell-O and her nipples to glass, and she wanted more.
More, more, more.

“Can you do it again?” His eyes brightened.

She laughed. “I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Can’t let that ride, sir,” the dealer informed him. He was already on the phone and he didn’t look happy.

“Well I can’t bet against you.” Dorian gathered his chips, once again doubled in size. “You want me to sit this one out?”

“Yeah.” Jodie nodded, frowning at the table. “I just have a bad feeling…”

Kimber overheard, leaning over to tell Lauren and the rest of the girls.

“Well your instincts have been right so far.” Dorian took seven of his chips and put them in the “don’t pass” field.

“Betting against the shooter?” The stick man raised his bushy eyebrows, so thick they almost matched his mustache, but the dealer placed the bet.

“I’ll sit this one out,” Kimber said, counting up the chips sitting in her rack in front of her. All of the girls had made a ton of money but they were following Kimber’s lead, holding back from placing any more bets.

“Want to make a little side wager?” He waggled his eyebrows at Jodie when she turned her head to look at him. His arms around her waist felt perfectly comfortable now. “Make it even more exciting?”

“What kind of wager?”

“How about…” He slid his hands over her hips, smiling slyly. “If you crap out, you take another selfie with me. My choice of time and place.”

She looked at him, considering. “And if I don’t crap out?”

“You keep that.” He nodded at the pile of chips—minus his thirty-five thousand dollar bet on craps—still sitting on the table.

“Oh no. No way.” She felt the blood drain from her face at the thought of that kind of money. “I can’t take that.”

“Why not? You earned it, shooter.” He laughed. “Besides, if you’re right and you crap out, you won’t have to take it.”

Jodie blinked at the pile of chips and tried to imagine how her life would change if she had that kind of money. And then she remembered that incredible kiss, his hands on her ass, mouth slanting across hers, and the heat that flooded her at the memory was enough to turn her cheeks rosy. She turned away from Dorian, not wanting him to see her flushed face, watching chips being tossed everywhere on the table. Word had spread about the lucky shooter.

Before she knew it, the dice were back in front of her again and she picked them up in one hand, not sure what she should ask for. If she threw a seven or eleven, Dorian would insist on giving her the money he’d made on her rolls. If she crapped out, he’d double his thirty-five thousand dollar bet on the table—and he’d win a selfie of the two of them, taken whenever, wherever he wanted.

She tingled all over at that, wondering what he was up to—but she knew the general direction he was going, considering the way he pulled her into the saddle of his hips as they stood at the table, two puzzle pieces, almost but not quite fitting together. Just a little nudge, and then…

“What do you want me to roll?” she glanced back at him, feeling the eyes of everyone at the table trained on her. The casino was still loud, lively, but the table was quiet, waiting for her.

“I want
you.
” His whispered words made her breath catch in her throat, his fingers digging into her hipbones. “And I intend to have you—no matter what you roll.”

She threw the dice, not caring what they came up, knowing that either way, she won. Turning, she snaked her arms around his neck before pressing her lips to his. She wanted him to know—she wanted him too. There was nothing else in the world she wanted more, nothing else she could think about. It could have been all the drinks, or the excitement of rolling the dice, winning all that money, but it wasn’t any of that. This man, this Dorian Cole, wanted her—
her,
Jodie Miller. She was desirable, wanted. After everything that had happened over the past week, that was enough.