In the three years I’d been attending MSC, I’d met some guys who were great in bed, but none of them had gotten me off with only kissing and over-the-clothes touching.If Dalton had interrupted us about two minutes later, he’d have had an eyeful of me coming inside my panties and all up and down the fly of Mr.Sexy’s dress pants.As it was, I’d probably left a wet stain on the front of those trousers.Good thing he had a jacket to cover it.
A football player.
Ugh!
Without my permission, my fingers pressed against my lips.If my girlfriends’ football-player boyfriends kissed them the way my sexy stranger had kissed me, I could kind of see why they were involved with—or on the verge of involving themselves with—Wildcats.Was that kind of prowess a football player thing?The chemistry?I had no idea there was a guy out there who could effortlessly turn me inside out with a kiss.
One thing was for sure: I was not ending up like my friends, adapting my goals and dreams for a man.Even though they all said that would never happen if they ended up long-term with these guys, football players who were headed to the big leagues, their denial didn’t change the fact my friends’ lives were going to be a whole lot different from the lives they’d planned for themselves.Nothing of the sort was in the cards for me.
As I led Dalton away from my mystery man, I said casually, “Cash said he plays for the ’Cats.A transfer or something.”
Dalton stopped throwing looks over his shoulder when we reached the stairs.“He’s our new backup quarterback.But from what I’m hearing from some of the offensive players, he might be more than a backup when the season starts.Why are we walking away from him?”
As we descended the stairs, I asked, “Has the poker game started in the president’s suite?”
“Not sure.I wasn’t paying attention to which of the guys were still partying in the great room.”
“Mmm.Guess I’ll hit the bar for a drink and then check it out for myself.”
One of the traditions of the Mardi Gras Masquerade Ball was the “secret” poker game played in the fraternity president’s private room.Usually, the guys didn’t let women play, but the SCRs had figured out quick that I was a ringer and made an exception for me.Mainly because I returned eighty percent of my winnings to the house’s favorite charity.And I always won, beating the presidents of the other fraternities and their seconds, who gathered at the event specifically for this private game as a way to one-up the other frats, especially the host frat.
After what had happened in that hallway upstairs, I needed to disappear to somewhere that Cash the transfer quarterback wouldn’t find me.From the way he’d looked at me when I abruptly stepped away from him, I had the distinct impression he’d come looking for me once he’d got himself back under control.
He didn’t need to find me.
When I walked into AJ’s room, I discovered the game was about to begin.AJ Kalanick, president of Sigma Chi Rho, was one of the coolest guys in the house.If not for fraternity bylaws preventing it, I had no doubt the brothers would have elected him to a second term as president after this one ended.When he saw me standing in the doorway, he motioned for me to come in and pulled up a chair beside his.
“Have a seat, Little Rho.Minimum buy-in is $200.”
“Why is this girl allowed to play?”the president of the Pikes grumbled.
The Pikes weren’t wearing understated black masks with their house letters tastefully embroidered in gold thread in the lower-right corner like the SCRs.Instead, their masks were weirdly striped in their house colors.As usual, they had to stand out.From the way the Pike second kept running his hand over the tie matching his mask—the president was wearing the same patterned tie—they thought they’d made an inspired style choice.In my view, they looked more like Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee than the Mardi Gras version ofGQ.
“The rules of the game state that the president of each house and one guest member can sit at this table.This SCR little sister is my guest.”AJ’s tone brooked no argument.
Since I’d expected to play tonight and already knew the stakes, I’d folded two Benjamins and slipped them into my bra before I left my house.Giving the Pikes my most saccharine smile, I made a show of reaching into my bra and pulling out my buy-in money.Beside me, AJ shook his head, but I could feel his grin as he slid $200 in chips over to me.Across the table, the Pike president’s guest leaned in to whisper something in his ear.From the cat-ate-the-cream twist of his lips, I gathered the two of them didn’t see me as threat.
God, I loved playing cards with cocky men.
One of my oldest memories was of climbing into my dad’s lap when he hosted his buddies for poker night and watching the game from his hand.At first, I was Dad’s cutie good-luck charm.But when I was about ten, standing beside my dad’s chair to watch the game after I became too much for his lap, I whispered in his ear that he needed to play the two pair rather than go for the full house, and he won.Everyone at the table knew the only hand I could see was my dad’s, and one of his friends had asked if I’d like to play a few hands just for fun.
Sometimes when I was home from college in the summer, I’d sit in on their games.They were sweet about me taking their money, the old dears, but every single one of them—Dad included—would like nothing better than to clean me out.The thing is, I became interested in psychology from studying the men’s tells.I enjoyed figuring those out as much as I enjoyed figuring out the strategy of the game.It made winning easy.
The Pike president didn’t know it, but he was going to be the first player to tap out of the game.His guest would be the second.I smiled absently across the table at the two of them and arranged my chips.Then I sipped from my tumbler of whiskey, set the glass carefully on the table, and waited for my cards with my hands folded demurely in front of me.
The Pikes were reckless.They’d dealt the first two hands and lost.I’d hedged my bets and waited while the Sigma Nu president won the first hand.The SAE president won the second.The Pikes lost heavily to both of them.When it was the Delta Sig player’s turn to deal, AJ busted out the cigars.The Pikes both wanted to protest when he offered me one first and I took it.Their gaping fish lips cracked me up inside, but the façade I shared was one of cool indifference as AJ pulled out his lighter and offered me a flame.
My eyes never leaving theirs, I took a couple of puffs then blew a perfect smoke ring in the air.A few low chuckles from the other guys told me they saw exactly how I was playing the Pikes.A low whistle from one of the SAEs said he admired my skill with a stogie.Though I lost the next hand to the Sigma Nu again, my stacks of chips were still healthy.The Pikes had lost all concentration and were already down half their chips.Silly boys.
For the fun of it, I dunked my cigar in my whiskey and sucked off a taste before setting it in the ashtray to my right, between the Sigma Nu and me.The next two hands were mine, and I was ahead.Beside me, AJ grunted his approval even though some of the money in front of me I’d won from him.
By the time we were an hour in, the Pikes had no more money to buy more chips, which meant anytime now, they’d have to cash in the meager few chips they had left.Both of them were throwing back Jameson as though AJ had an endless supply in his stash, and they were smoking their cigars like they were in a race to finish first.For fraternity men who cultivated a reputation for smooth and cool, neither the Pike president nor his second exhibited anything other than desperation.
After taking a leisurely sip of my whiskey and setting the glass deliberately on the table, I raised the bet $40 and called.
“You can’t do that,” the Pike second whined.“You’ll wipe us out.”
“Only if you’ve been bluffing,” I replied.
