1
DIMITRI
The cards don't care who I am. They show the same impartiality to me that they give to any man who sits at this felt to play the game. I am on level playing field tonight, though I'm not really here to play the game. My eyes move with the flow of people around me, watching one woman in particular.
"Sir?" the dealer mumbles, and I cast my bet, still tracking Tatiana across the floor.
The white blouse she wears is unbuttoned at the top, showing a hint of her pink lace bra beneath it, and I picture matching silky panties under that short, flouncy skirt she wears. It drives me up a wall how she dresses. Every man in this place ogles her, though if they knew the claim I've staked, they'd back off.
"Banker wins," the dealer says in my periphery as I turn to keep Tatiana in my sights.
She's been avoiding me tonight, which isn't a good move for her, though she knows her job is secure. I'd never fire her. I'm too obsessed with her to let her go. And she knows about myobsession, but she hasn't asked to be moved to a different floor or section of the casino, either. Which is only encouragement to me.
I raise my hand slowly, sure to catch her eye before a dark scowl flashes across her face. The game goes on behind me with my back turned.
For months I've watched her roam around this place so comfortably. After moving back home from Moscow, I've gotten a taste of the nightlife and the women around here, but not a single one catches my eye the way she does. I know the nights she works, where she goes when she takes her smoke breaks, and how flustered she acts when she's two minutes late for a shift.
And as she walks toward me carrying her tray with a fresh drink on it for me, the room seems to fade into distant background noise. Tatiana is one of the few women on this planet who can cast a spell over me so deeply, I forget who I am and what's going on around me. The most I've spoken to her is a please or thank you over a drink she serves, but she belongs to me. She just doesn't know it yet.
"Sir," she says, setting the drink on the felt in front of me. The way she reaches puts her back to me as she stretches out to lay down a coaster and place the glass on it. A hint of her skin peeks out between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her skirt, revealing bronzed skin.
"Always so respectful," I tell her, but my hand has a mind of its own and it's definitely not respectful.
My palm slides up the back of her thigh under that flouncy red skirt until the tip of my thumb brushes the elastic of her panties,and I squeeze hard. I'm not drunk. I just know what I want and I take it.
"God," I grumble, imagining these thighs wrapped around my face, but Tatiana's hand swipes downward, smacking my arm away.
"Fuck's sake, keep your hands off me." Her scowl as she snaps back and clutches the tray to her chest is adorable, though I'm sure if I tell her that, it'll earn me a smack to the face too. "You don't just go touching women."
"I do when I'm their boss," I say, standing. The murmur of voices around the baccarat table hushes, but the men I'm playing with know enough to keep their noses in their own business. "Why have you been avoiding me, Tatiana?" This is the first time I've grabbed her like that, but God damn, I can't control myself around her anymore.
"I haven't." She backs away, still scowling at me, but she looks a little afraid. I don't want her frightened of me at all, but unfortunately, I have that effect on people.
"But you have," I tell her, taking her by the elbow to pull her back toward me. I've seen men in this very game room do worse things to her than I have. I know she's no stranger to telling a man off when she's had enough. That's why my hand traces the curve of her outer thigh, then finds its way upward again, creeping toward her panty line. "And it's obvious…. So I'm making changes on the rotation."
"What?" she asks, nudging my hand lower.
"Yeah… And after your shift tonight, I want you to come to my penthouse so we can discuss it." I give her a good squeeze again, and this time, she grabs my wrist and removes it from her leg.
"Please do not touch me again. And I will not be going to your penthouse for any reason. I don't care if you are my boss." Tatiana lifts my arm and then drops it as she takes a step backward, but I catch her wrist and make her stop as I slowly stand up and pull out my wallet.
"You forgot your tip, honey." Women who give me a bit of a chase are the best kinds. They don't realize the predator inside me loves the thrill of the hunt.
I flop my wallet open and slide a few hundred dollar bills from it, then fold them carefully as Tatiana watches. Her eyes flick to the money and then around the room, and her tongue traces over her bottom lip.
I know the way the women in this place talk about me like I’m some slab of meat. I may be a bit older, but I'm not off my game yet. I'm in my prime, and I'm worth a lot of money, not to mention the power my last name carries. Tatiana can't resist that, not even if she tried. Besides, she's every bit as attracted to me as those other women. She's just in denial.
The bills slide right between her tits as I push them down the front of her top. That pink lace parts to allow them passage, and they cling there as I pull my fingers back. Though, I'd much rather be grabbing her gently again.
"As soon as your shift is over," I say with a tone of warning.
Tatiana turns on her heel and storms off, feet slapping the tile floor as she goes, and I watch that skirt bounce with every step. God, my dick is hard and twitching and I swear she knows it. Those hips never swayed so much in her life.
I sit back down, but there's no chance in hell that I'll be able to focus on a game now that I've had that interaction. All I can dois watch every move she makes, study her facial expression as she waits on different tables, and count the very seconds until she walks across my threshold into my penthouse where we'll have some real privacy and a chance to find out exactly what Ms. Tatiana Sarnova will do when she finds out she'll be my personal waitress from now on.
2
TATIANA
