“You could.”
“And you’d do it?”
Without hesitation, he replied, “I would.”
“I could make you touch my breasts?” Sunny brought their hands to one firm mound, rubbing the back of his hand against the diamond-hard peak where it poked through the sage green silk blouse. When she won, she was going to make him do a hell of a lot more than that! The idea of having such a powerful man at her command made her loins quiver as much as what she refused to consider in the least – that she could end up having to submit herself – completely, as he’d put it - to him.
His only trace of a reaction was a slight tension of his lips until the much more satisfying, much more telltale hoarse, ragged response. “Yes, you could.” He then brought their other hands to his crotch, pressing the back of her hand against the ridge of hardness she found there. “Just as I could require you to do this.”
Sunny could feel the rigidity behind his zipper, and she knew she wanted this - more than she wanted to admit, even more than she’d wanted her first CEO position. Much more, if she was truthful with herself. This man was a force of nature, powerful, rich - and, apparently, hungry -and she wanted to sate his every desire, no matter how depraved.
She had a feeling they were very much in line with her own.
“Anything wild?” she asked, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as he watched avidly.
“No. Straight draw poker. One hand decides your – or my - fate.” Rod leaned forward, their hands still where they’d been placed moments ago on each other’s erogenous zones, whispering with only slightly tequila scented breath, “Are you woman enough to take the risk, I wonder?”
She wanted to snort at him, yearned to dispel his lack of faith in her, despite the small alarm in the back of her head that screamed that this man had had much less alcohol than she had, and that she ought to be careful.
Tequila-inflamed passions of all sorts burned within her and wouldn’t allow her to ignore his blatant challenge.
Sunny abruptly let go of his hands and sat back, away from him, saying, “Deal.”
He hadn’t expected to feel bereft at the loss of contact with her, however benign, but he did. To cover his feelings, he offered her his hand. “Shake on it.”
Sunny complied unflinchingly; pumped his big hand twice, then let go. She usually had pretty good luck in poker, as shown by the big pile of change to her left.
Rod shuffled the cards a few more times, then presented the pack to her and inclined his head towards it. “I think we should cut for the deal. Shall we say high deals, ace high?”
Nodding, Sunny reached for the cards and cut it relatively close to the top, showing an eight. Not too bad.
His cut was more towards the middle of the remaining pack. A ten.
After collecting the cards and shuffling several more times, he reiterated the rules they had played under all evening: the draw limit was three, unless you could show an ace, and then you could keep the ace and draw four. He dealt five cards, face down, to each of them.
Sunny took a deep breath as she reached for her hand, before having seen it, uttering a prayer for she didn’t know what to she didn’t know whom before fanning them out: an ace of clubs, two kings, a five of hearts and a three of diamonds.
When did the ticking of the enormous, antique grandfather clock in the corner become so blasted loud, she wondered? The disappointing contents of her hand made her so tense she would swear she could hear every second of her life ticking slowly by, as if it was going to end if she lost this hand.
Dammit. She had been hoping for three of a kind on the first draw – to have something to pin her hopes on. A pair of kings wasn’t much - she sneaked a look at him as he was staring intently at his cards – against the man who could control her every move for the next two days, and who looked like he would thoroughly enjoy every second of it.
“Three, please,” she asked, throwing the ace, the five and the three face down onto the table between them.
“Three to you, and dealer takes,” he looked at his hand again for a second then discarded his own rejects, “two.”
Two? That wasn’t at all good, especially when she’d gotten no help at all from the extra cards – a four, a two and a seven, all of different suits. That could mean that he had three of a kind already - even before he got to draw more!
But Sunny did her best not to let the panic show on her face. “So, since we’re not betting money, who calls who?”
“I think we both just show our hands and determine the winner from there.”
Throwing everything but the pair away, Sunny put down first one king, then the other, like it was some big reveal.