He shrugged. “Probably. Waiters and waitresses live off their tips, so if she pays for the meal Kozlov bought, that’s up to her. If she keeps it all, I’m okay with that, too.” He took a sip of water, then looked at me. “You ready?”
“For what? Where are we heading?”
He smiled. “Well, that’s up to you, Princess.” He slipped in the nickname he’d called me on and off for years. Most of the time, it annoyed me, but this time, I heard it as a term of endearment instead of a mocking insult. “We can go do some gambling if you’d like. They also have a nightclub in here, or we could just go back to the room. It’s up to you.”
Dancing was my first love, my therapy, but gambling sounded fun too, and it was something I’d never actually done before, but then again, there is something else I’d never done before that would happen if we went upstairs to the room, I hoped.
I was nervous because I didn’t know what to do. I’d read many romance novels, and a lot of them were straight-up pornfor the imagination. What I didn’t learn in health class in junior high and high school, I learned through books, but I still had no experience where men were concerned. Butterflies floated around in my stomach. I wanted to just saylet’s go upstairs, but I chickened out. “Maybe you show me how to gamble a little first?” I said softly. “I’ve never done that before.”
He nodded and took my hand. We walked through the restaurant and toward the casino floor. People were laughing and talking as they drank and took a chance on hitting the jackpot on the slot machines. I watched one lady jump up and down as she won five hundred on a machine. She had a huge smile on her face as she printed off a ticket to cash it out.
“Don’t waste your time on machines,” Lorenzo whispered into my ear. His arm was around my lower back as he gestured for me to keep going. “She won five hundred from that one, but there’s no telling how much she put into it to get that five hundred back. If you put in a thousand and only win five hundred, you’re still five hundred dollars down.”
“What’s your game of choice then?” I asked him curiously.
“Poker. You don’t play the game; you play the person. You read people and play accordingly.” He sent me a wicked grin as he propelled me toward an empty poker table.
“And you’re good at reading people?”
He nodded seriously. “I am. It’s one of my many talents.” He grabbed his wallet from his pocket again and tipped the dealer five hundred dollars. “This table is full,” he said, then handed her another couple hundred for a stack of chips. She smiled and agreed, then watched as he started teaching me the basics of the game.
We went through several hands together. He won them all–not surprisingly–but I was having fun and letting loose. It had been a long time since I’d done that. There were a few people here and there who came by in an attempt to join in, but thedealer advised them it was a private table for a private lesson and directed them to another table. We played for an hour before I was out of chips, and Lorenzo had the full stack in front of him.
“You knew what was in my hand every time. Are you sure you weren’t looking at my cards?” I put my hands on my hips and stared up at him, laughing. “I played Monopoly with you growing up. I know how you used to slip into the bank when I wasn’t looking.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t have to peek at your hand. Like I said, I didn’t read your cards; I read you.”
“I’m not that easy to read.” I stuck my tongue out at him playfully.
“Yes, you are.” He smirked.
“Really?” I challenged him with a raised brow and a stubborn expression on my face.
His grin spread. “You really want me to do this?” I nodded silently and crossed my arms under my chest. “You asked for this.” He gave me a pointed look that said, ‘You can’t be mad.’ So I nodded in understanding.
“You chose not to go dancing because you dance all the time, and you wanted to do something you haven’t done before. That leaves gambling and going upstairs to have sex. Your lack of experience makes you nervous when it comes to going upstairs, so even though that would have been your first choice, you chickened out and chose gambling.”
My jaw dropped because he laid out my thought process as if he could see inside my head. Like he had a road map to me. Holy crap. How long had he known I’ve had a crush on him?
“I’ve always known,” he said quietly. “I always noticed you looking at me, Bianca.” He pulled me close to him, lifted my chin, and cupped my cheek. “I always noticed because I was always looking at you, too.”
His lips settled on mine even as I gasped out in shock from his words. The kiss melted me to my very core. His tongue plundered my mouth, and desire spread through my system like no glass of champagne ever could. I was into the kiss and falling under his spell when he pulled back gently, teasingly nipping on my bottom lip before he cashed in the chips, leaving the dealer another two hundred dollars in chips. He thanked her for keeping the table clear for us, then guided me through the casino floor and toward the bank of elevators.
We rode up to the suite in silence. Our gazes were locked, and the tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Years of need and frustration on both our parts were ready to boil over. I wanted him for as long as I could have him. When the doors opened on our floor, he took my hand again and pulled me down the hall toward our room.
Once inside, he shut the door and leaned back against it, watching me quietly. “Don’t be nervous, Bea,” his whispered words were full of comfort and need.
“That’s easier said than done.”
“Do you think about dancing while you’re dancing?” he asked, pushing off the door and moving toward me calmly, slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal.
“No.” I shook my head. “No, I just feel the music and move.”
“Think of sex like that.” He took my hand again and led me further inside to the living room, where he flipped on the fireplace with the press of a button.
“I don’t know what you mean.” My mouth went dry as I watched him slide his jacket off and throw it over the back of the couch. Next went his tie. He unbuttoned the vest and slid it off, tossing it on top of his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and pants.
“Don’t think about your next step or your next move. Just feel. My body is yours. You can touch me, taste me, however you want, because I plan to feast on you the same way.” His smilemade me weak in the knees, but somehow I stayed upright as he pulled off his shoes and socks.
