“You’re not used to such compliments?” His voice is low, almost a growl. “Then we will have to rectify that.” He pauses, and I’m grateful when he changes the subject. “Are you here to play?”
I watch his lips move around the word play—soft, full and the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. I blink twice and straighten my back.
I really need to get a grip.
“Roulette, yes.” I say, skirting around the question as I’m not entirely sure of the direction it was meant. If I were just passing through Las Vegas, I would throw caution to the wind and give in to my feelings of lust, something I’ve not experienced before. But I’m planning on staying here and I do not intend on getting myself into any situations that could turn complicated.
I have only been with two men in my life, and both of them falsely took my trust before I ventured into anything physical. Denham King is different. He isn’t hiding behind niceties or false promises of friendship. He is what he is, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with it.
“Just roulette? Have you ever played poker?”
“No poker. I like the simplicity of the little wheel. Just red or black, odd or even.”
He nods, seemingly happy with my answer. Something tells me he’s not a poker player either. He gives too much away in his eyes.
Spike brings Denham a drink. He’s a scotch man, on the rocks, and he swirls the glass before lifting it to his lips. I watch as he takes a sip of the smooth amber liquid, his lips coated in a sweet, shiny glaze and his Adam’s apple dipping as he swallows. He’s watching me watching him, and the corners of his lips curl just enough to make me realize this.
“Come.”
He stands swiftly and clasps his tumbler in one hand, holding out his spare hand to help me down from the tall bar stool. I obey his gentle command without hesitation and place my small hand in his large, rough palm. He doesn’t let go when I’m standing; instead, he pulls me tightly by his side and strides forward.
We weave through the small groups of people, and I can feel my heartbeat pick up as the anxiety kicks in. I still don’t really know him, and I don’t know where he’s leading me. I try to wriggle my hand from his grip and slow my legs down, but he squeezes ever so gently and it reassures me enough to just go with it. I breathe a small sigh of relief when he stops at the roulette table. My crazy mind needs to be reeled in and stop thinking the worst at every turn. But old habits die hard.
Denham greets the croupier and guides me gently with a hand on my waist to one of the available seats. He stands behind me and leans down to speak softly. “You’ve played before?”
His breath tickles my ear and I swallow noisily. “Yes.”
He nods to the croupier who is waiting attentively. Denham holds up one finger and a small stack of red chips is pushed across the smooth green felt toward me.
“Red or black?”
I spin my head around to him. “You want me to choose?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to lose your money.”
“You won’t. I feel lucky.” He shrugs.
“Okay, I call red. No wait, black. Put one on black,” I say, getting more excited by the second but also nervous with the pressure of gambling with someone else’s money.
He steps forward and slides the entire stack onto the large square marked BLACK. I pull at his free arm in a panic, but I can’t deny that this is exciting. “No! I saidone. Putoneon black.”
He leans in so he’s just millimeters from my ear and whispers, “I’m all or nothing, sweetheart. When I do something, I do it with everything I’ve got.”
“No more bets,” the croupier calls and the moment is broken.
We both look to the wheel as it is spun until the colors and numbers blur. The ball is tossed in the opposite direction to the spinning wheel and I watch for what seems like an eternity before it starts to slow. It rolls and bounces and I can hardly bear to watch. I don’t know how much money is riding on this game of chance, but if will alone can make it land in a black slot we’ll be hitting a home run. The crowd hushes and the last couple of bounces seem like they play out in slow motion; my heartbeat whooshes through my ears and the sound of the ball echoes around the table. It lands in a red slot, then jumps out at the very last minute, the 'Oh’s and Ah’s' sounding around the table adds to the tension as the little white ball finally settles in a pocket …
Black!
“Yes!” I yell, jumping out of my seat and nearly knocking over our drinks in the process. Most of the other guests around the table are smiling and calling 'Yes!' and a few of them are looking downright relieved. I fling my arms around Denham’s neck, it’s an innocent gesture, one of elation and relief that I haven’t lost all his money. I kiss his smooth cheek, noticing he’s shaved and fighting the urge to nuzzle into him.
I don’t know why I just did that. It just…happened.
I go to pull back, but he wraps his arms around my waist and holds me even closer, just for a second, then turns his head so my lips just touch the corner of his. The innocence is sucked out of our moment and replaced by another exchange of smoldering looks. I pull back and he reluctantly releases me.
“I think I might keep you.”
