And besides, I reminded myself as I regained control of myself, this was not a romantic contract. This was a business deal. I make Cassius look good, I help my career, he feels forgiveness, I feel absolution, and that was it.
Right?
“Very good, Sarah,” he said with a smirk. “You will be mine that weekend. And I very much look forward to it.”
I swallowed. I did too, and I could barely avoid admitting it. I just nodded back.
“I have other matters to attend to now,” Cassius said, looking at his watch. “I will contact you later.”
“How?” I asked. “I don’t have your number, or you mine.”
Cassius, already starting to walk away, laughed.
“You don’t think I have the means of getting that if I really want to?”
He did not elaborate. I should have remembered that Cassius always had the means of getting what he wanted.
The question was now what did Cassius really want out of a weekend at theRed Court.
And, frankly, what did I really want?
Because I had a feeling that no matter how much I tried to deny it, no matter how much I said internally and out loud that it was just business… that spark upon touching his hand sure suggested there was more that I might have wanted.
5
CASSIUS
Get a grip of yourself, you fucking fool.
It was a damn good thing I had years of experience keeping a poker face better than professional poker players. I should never have fucking extended a handshake to make a deal with someone whose brains I’d once fucked out. Who I once… cared for, who Iliked,I would allow myself to admit.
The instant her hand came into touch with mine, I felt the heat of desire overwhelm me. My face never showed it, of course, but fucking hell, I was caught off guard by how much I wanted to fuck her right there. Shit, it had been so strong, I was very close to telling the guards to not let anyone in while I railed her right there inAllure.
I did no such thing, of course. I maintained my professional demeanor, found a justified reason to leave, and walked away. If I cared to see Sarah Carpenter that night, I knew where to find her. And even if I didn’t, it would take all but ten, maybe twenty minutes of an assistant’s work to track down her contact information.
The only problem was that theRed Courtgala was two nights away, and I had to find some way to occupy myself. Some wayto be productive without letting thoughts of Sarah Carpenter fill my fucking brain.
The thought came to just go to our nightclub, find the two hottest women I could, and engage in a threesome. It would satisfy me physically, yes. But I knew myself well enough. I knew even when we were naked and I was deep inside them, I would still see Sarah on their faces. It wasn’t that I cared that it would make it less enjoyable for them; they’d still cum.
But it would fuck with my mind.
And I already had enough fucking headaches up there thanks to Sarah, even well before tonight. No, sex would not solve my problems.
But spending time with a different group of people might.
An hour later, back on the top floor ofRuby,I sat on a chair outside. The evening had gone black, and a cool, dry air brushed over me. There was something about being outside that was more relaxing to me than being inside. Inside, at that glass window, I felt like I was a king overlooking his empire; outside, I felt like I was above all the games.
It wasn’t a feeling I wanted to stay in for too long; there was money to be made, power to be obtained, and empires to be broadened. But sometimes, especially after a clusterfuck of an evening, it was good to clear the mind. It made things easier when I returned to being the King of Hearts over Las Vegas.
I checked my watch, wondering where the hell the rest of them were, but fortunately for their sake, the three of them opened the door and stepped outside a moment later.
Dante, Adrian, and Lucas.
The Vale brothers, co-owners of the casino empire here in Las Vegas. I was CEO of the whole venture; Adrian, CFO; Lucas, COO; and Dante… something of an everything man. Officially, his title was Executive Director of Hospitality, but the reality had him in the streets, in police stations, and in prisons, dealing with people we couldn’t afford to be seen with in public. Dante was the least public of the group, but that was to his liking, anyways. Unlike me, he didn’t want magazine articles written about him. I suppose if he had a nickname like mine, it might be King of Clubs, but he saw no value in the nickname.
Too bad. I’d make it stick at some point. Just as Adrian was King of Diamonds for how he dressed and wore his wealth; just as Lucas was King of Spades for all the tricks he had up his sleeve.
“Get tired of the art gala?” Dante said as he pulled out a cigar. He handed it to me before handing two more to Lucas and Adrian, then one for himself. “I told you, that wasn’t your thing. Unless you found some ass you want to pull.”
