“Antonio Cortez is my real name. Everyone calls me Don. You’re not everyone. Now tell me why you’re counting cards around Vegas.”
I’m surprised at how quickly he turns the conversation back to me.
“Do you want me to leave your casino?” I take another sip of my champagne, hoping this isn’t his polite way of kicking me out.
“No. I don’t care if you take the house. I just want you close.”
I nearly choke on the bubbles when I hear his blunt statement. After I swallow, I laugh a little. “You’re okay with me bankrupting the Golden Peacock?”
“Tell me your real name.”
“Don’t change the subject,” I deflect again, not wanting to talk about me.
“I will tell you anything you ever want to know about me, but I want to talk to you as you. Not as someone you pretend to be. I’ve lived long enough and made enough money that it all means nothing. It’s only money. But you, you’re real. And that I would never want to lose.”
His words shock me and make me warm all over. There’s a heat between us that is unexplainable, and his honesty about his feeling are fast and scary. I can feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest, and I lick my lips as I try to find the words to deny him what he wants.
In the end, I can’t do it. “Georgia,” I whisper, wanting to give him everything he asks for.
Feeling his warm fingers on mine, I look down at my hands. He opens his hand, palm down on the table, and I slide mine into his, looking at his tanned skin against my soft white. He has calluses I didn't expect, and I feel them as his big palm wraps around mine, the muscles of his wrist flexing.
It’s completely insane that the feel of his skin on my skin should feel so perfect. That the small touch has my whole body alive with passion I’ve never felt. Looking down at where we’re connected, it’s as if I’ve done this a thousand times, our bodies holding memories we can’t recall.
When I look up into his bright blue eyes, I see the softness there. I want to fall into them and never come out. I want to trust him and let him hold me so that I can finally stop pretending to be something I’m not.
“Georgia, you can have anything in this casino you want. Including me.”
I lick my lips, trying to find words to respond to him, but I can’t.
“I don’t know what this is, but I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve never felt this uncontrollable pull to anything.” I feel his fingertip brush across my wrist, feeling my pulse. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”
Taking a breath, I feel myself about to take the leap. To tell him something honest and real.
“Dinner is served,” the waiter says, breaking the spell.
I pull my hand away from Antonio's. My fingers are suddenly very cold. I look anywhere but into his bright blue eyes, not able to do it yet. I need to square my shoulders and put my game face back on.
I can do this. Be charming, be polite, be his fantasy. Just don’t let him touch me again. I don’t know that I’m strong enough to survive it.
5
Don
I want to curse the waiter. I had her so close to admitting something. So close to giving me another taste of the real her. Her mask has slipped back into place, and no matter how hard I’ve tried throughout dinner, I can’t get her to open back up.
I’ll try anything to get her to come back out as the silence stretches between us.
“Ask me,” I say, taking another bite of my steak. She’s already eaten almost all of her rib-eye, and I can see my window is closing. Soon she’ll be done and have a reason to leave. She wants to turn the conversation back around to me. That’s fine if it will get her talking again.
“Do you always buy women two-million-dollar bottles of champagne and let them take what they want from your casino? I’d think that would’ve left you broke pretty damn quick. Not that I’m complaining.” She raises her champagne glass in a small teasing gesture before taking another sip.
“Can’t say I’ve ever let someone who robbed my casino walk out of here before.”
Her eyes come to mine, and she tilts her head, making those golden blonde curls bounce again. Goddamn, seeing her ride my cock as her tresses bounced all around her would be heaven.
“Did you just threaten me?” Her tone doesn’t sound worried. Good. I wasn’t trying to worry her. A lot of people fear me, and I don’t want her to be one of them.
“Don’t think I can say I’ve treated them to a two-million-dollar bottle of champagne before I got the skin owed to me after they took something that was mine.” I lean in a little, taking a deep breath, disappointed that all I can smell is the food on the table.
“But you said—”
“Oh, I’ll be taking some of your skin tonight. In my hands, mouth, and any other way I can come up with. As for the walking out of here, never said I was letting you leave.” I smile so she thinks I’m teasing, but not a word of what I just said was a joke. No one takes something that’s mine, and she’s that. I won’t allow even her to take herself from me.
He breathing picks up at my words, but no sassy remark leaves her mouth. I like that I shocked her, made her lose her step, but fuck, do I love when she comes back on something I’ve said. No one talks to me like she does. I think I could get off to nothing but her voice.
She’s leaned in a little, so we aren’t too far apart across the small table. This time I reach out and wrap one of her long blonde curls around my finger. As I lift just the edge to my nose, the smell of warm honey fills my lungs and makes my cock leak pre-cum.
“Come back to my room with me. I’ll put this champagne to use. Lick every drop of it off your body.”
I can see the hesitation in her eyes, but she licks her lips.
I place my hand under her chin, drawing her eyes to mine.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t assume that you coming back to my room means we’re going to have sex. Unless you count my tongue fucking your pussy to see if you not only smell like honey but taste like it, too.”
Her lips part a little at my words, a small gasp leaving her. I steal the opening to pull her to me, closing the distance and taking her mouth. The taste of champagne hits my tongue, sweet and warm. I hold myself back from devouring her mouth, which is what I really want to do. I want to show her that this is all about pleasing her. Making her crave me. Showing her what I can give her if she’ll let me. She might be blunt and in your face, but I can tell she’s a runner, and I don’t want to give her a reason to.
My tongue lazily sweeps into her mouth, and she opens a little more to me. I deepen the kiss at her invitation, and she slowly starts to kiss me back. Pulling back, I try to read her expression, but her eyes remain closed, her fingers coming to her lips like she’s savoring the kiss, almost like she’s never felt lips on hers before.
The act is simple and so innocent. When her eyes finally open, I can see that mask is finally gone again.
“Take me to your room.”
She barely finishes the words before I’m rising from my chair. She grabs the bottle of champagne from the table, making me smile at her. I take it from her and grab her hand before making my way to the front of the restaurant.
It’s then I see Samantha sitting at a corner table. She rises from her chair and moves towards me. There aren’t many female power players in Vegas, but she’s definitely in that small window, and I have great respect for her. She’s cunning and seems to always be two steps ahead of everyone else. Luckily, she’s never had anything that I needed, something I’m sure drives her crazy. Money isn’t the only thing Sam likes to collect; she likes to collect favors as well.
Just like me, there aren’t many in this town who don’t owe her a few of those. But right now I don’t have time for whatever it is she wants to talk about.
“Don.” Her cool eyes lock on me before they move on to Peaches. A smirk breaks onto her lips when she sees my hand locked with Peaches’. Samantha is so put together you’d almost think she was a politician's wife’s at first glance, not a woman who auctions off Mistresses to the richest men in America.
Everything about her is always in place, and she never shows emotion. But everyone knows how well she treats the girls she auctions off. I often wonder how she is with them and if this facade is only directed at men.
“Sam.” I give her as little as possible, not wanting to engage in conversation. This only makes her study Peaches more intently. I pull her close in a possessive move and give Sam a hard look.
“Interesting. I didn’t think you’d be into curves with a taste of the south. I guess I always pictured you into the tall and quiet type. She doesn’t look quiet at all. Although I’ve never even seen you as much as look at a woman before.”
“What does—” Peaches starts to say, but I cut her off, not wanting to get into it with Sam. That’s just what she wants. To know what my type might be, thinking that she could find out what I like in a woman and get a Mistress I might be interested in. Not fucking happening. There’s only one woman I’ll ever have. Even if she won’t be mine, I’ll spend my time trying to make her mine. I’m not stashing a Mistress away, wanting her to be something she could never live up to.