Page 12 of Smoke

And now I just want to make her cum angrily all over my hand. But I gotta see what’s gonna fly with my boy first. If Hawk’s okay with me spreading his naughty little stepsister’s thick thighs apart…

Anyone with eyes can see how fucking hot that woman is. With her soft, thick lips, come-fuck-me eyes, and tits that are more than a two-handful grab, she is pure perfection, unfettered desire, and absolute torture for my dick. Not to mention the way my glands start to salivate every time I try and imagine what her pussy tastes like.

Shit. I gotta focus on business. “Yeah, the buy-in’s five hundred. You know the drill. Don’t play dumb, Roscoe. You know we don’t do charity here.”

This fat fuck with his shifty eyes is always trying some sneaky shit. I take his money and let him through. I wait until he disappears up the stairs to Cherry’s apartment before addressing the next player.

Hawk trots down seconds later. “I need to grab another case of beer. Any sign of Cherry yet?”

Even the sound of her name is starting to do salacious things to me. I shake my head. “Nah. I’m sure we’ll hear her before we see her. She’s gonna go bat-shit when she finds out what we’ve done.”

Hawk smirks. “Good. Serves her right. She still thinks she calls the shots around here. It’s time to remind her who’s in charge.”

Omen struts up, looking slick and dangerous as usual. “The Sheriff came by, but I got rid of him.”

I feel the vein in my neck pulse. “What the fuck did he want?”

Omen puts his pistol back inside the holster vest. It’s strapped to his chest underneath his wool coat. “He saw a commotion and wanted to make sure there wasn’t a break-in. Even he knows Cherry goes out solo on Sunday nights.” Omen chuckles and pats me on the back. “Don’t worry, I assured him it’s all good. Told him she rented the place out to us for a private party.”

“You think he’ll call her? Fuck, I dare her to say anything different.”

“Nah. She’s spicy, but she ain’t stupid. We have too much dirt on her. She’ll keep her mouth shut and then come yell at us later.”

My cock throbs again. Fuck me. The thought of her angry as hell is a legit fucking turn on. I wonder just how mad I can make her before I fuck her… “All right. Sounds good. Yeah, five hundred,” I say to the next guy in line.

Omen stalks off to do another perimeter check while I take the money. In an hour we’ll switch positions. That’s how we’ve always done it. It keeps both of us alert and serves as a warning to the players.

We got three games going tonight: Texas Holdem, Three Card Poker, and the old tried and true, Five Card Draw. It’s a tight and exclusive event with just four players allowed at each table. Winner takes all—well, except our cut.

No time limits either. The last event we hosted went for almost forty-eight hours. Hence why we’re doing it up here in her apartment and not on the arcade floor. She opens for business tomorrow morning and we gotta keep that going as well.

After I collect the money from the last player to arrive, I lock the front door, and head upstairs with Omen. I let out a low whistle, impressed with how quickly Hawk managed to transform Cherry’s apartment into a card room.

In the living room, the couches have been scooted back against the wall and replaced with a card table and five folding chairs for four players and one dealer. A second table with another five chairs has been set up in one of the guest bedrooms. The kitchen dinette is now an actual bar with a couple of dudes already hanging over it in between games. And finally, the Texas Holdem game is set up at the dining room table in the corner by the front door.

I give Lola a wink and hand her a drink. “You need anything else, sugar? Any of these losers get outta hand, you let me or Om know.” Part of why the buy in is so high, is the fact that our dealers for the evening are three gorgeous women. And they’re topless.

“Thanks, baby. I’m good for now. You know I don’t mind when they act up.” The blonde flashes me a toothy grin before shuffling her decks.

It’s a win-win. Our players pay for the visual as well as the opportunity to make money. And we get a chance to distract them and take more of a cut. See, we take a percentage off the top of every hand. The more money they put in, the better. After a few stiff drinks and a nice pair of tits in your face, it gets easier and easier to lower your inhibitions.

Then there’s the wild card round. Winner takes the pot and gets a little treat from the dealer. That’s where Omen and I really have to be on guard. There’s always one who gets a little too handsy and we gotta take him out back until he cools off. These poor bastards ain’t never seen women like this before, let alone half-naked. They can’t keep their fucking dicks in their pants.

For me, I could care less. These women are working. It’s their literal job. While I can admire a good set of tits, I don’t pay for them. And sure, plenty of them have offered themselves up to me for free countless times. Back in the day, I used to partake. But I’m over it now. It gets old after a while.

I check in on Rita next in the living room, then Darla in the back bedroom. So far so good. Drinks are flowing, money is piling up, and everyone’s having a good time. I check my phone. It’s 10pm on the dot, which means our resident bombshell has been out drinking for three hours. Hawk says she can drink most men under the table, so I’m guessing we ain’t gonna see her pretty face until closer to midnight.

Fine by me. I want her sauced up, feisty as fuck, and coming in swinging. Any excuse to restrain her hot ass works for me.

“What are you smirking about?” Hawk asks as he doles out a few beers.

“I can’t wait to see the look on your sister’s face when she walks through that door.”

“Stepsister. Bro, how many times I gotta tell you? And yeah, it’s going to be a shit show. You have no idea how fucking unhinged that woman can get when she’s provoked. But remember, no one leaves until we’re paid. I don’t care how much she ruins the vibe. I want our fucking money, Scar.”

I nod. “We still on for the usual reckoning?” That’s the icing on the cake. The cherry on top. We have an appetite for destruction. For unholy acts. We never touch the winner. That would look too suspicious and discourage anyone from ever playing again.

So, we pick one from the three who lost the most, and we kill him. It’s a quiet example. A reminder of who we are and what we do. It’s the risk you take when you step into the lion’s den. At some point, we gotta eat too.