Page 27 of Red My Lips

“Forget it. I’m not playing your hand for you.”

“Just give me a number.”

“Two.” I toss a random number out so he’ll release me before I’m too dizzy to walk away.

“You heard her. Give me two.” Gage tosses two cards down on the table to discard before Brent deals him two new ones.

After pouring Gage’s drink into a new chilled glass, I make intentional eye contact with him as I place it on the table in front of him before strutting away.

They go around the table, tossing chips into the pot—a few thousand here, ten grand there. Despite my best efforts not to pay attention, I can’t help but watch as it comes down to John, Anders, and Gage. When Gage goes all in, Anders decides to fold.

Then there were two.

“You’re looking pretty cocky there for someone who doesn’t have any cards to stand on,” John drawls with the rough voice of a weathered rancher.

“Lay your cards down. We’ll see who’s still standing,” Gage replies nonchalantly. My trained eyes move over every visible inch of him in search of a tell, a sign that he’s bluffing. But I don’t see anything, not a single goosebump or twitch of an eyelid.

Either Gage has an ungodly good poker face, or he’s not bluffing.

When the hands are shown, I have my answer. Or do I?

“God-fucking-dammit,” John rumbles, shoving his losing cards away. A slow, devilish smile spreads across Gage’s face as he reaches for his new collection of pretty poker chips.

Dane, Anders, Grecko, John, and Dallin request more drinks, and I start loading a tray. I make it all the way around the table and hand off the last drink on the tray when he says my name.

I turn to see Gage point to his lap. “You’re my good luck charm. Come sit.” Every set of male eyes is on me, and I can feel the pressure of their stares. They’re a formidable group, but none compare to the intensity from the man speaking.

“You believe in luck?” I challenge, raising my brows. I barely survived being cheek-to-cheek with Gage. There’s no way I can sit on his lap. If I don’t wither and die, I’ll burst into flames.

“I believe in results,” he replies coolly, gesturing to the stack of poker chips in front of him. “The chips don’t lie.” His eyes keep me locked in, the resolve in his voice leaving no room for argument.

I’m sitting on his lap whether I want to or not.

“Alright.” I put the bottle down and step closer, stopping just out of reach. “I sit on your lap, and I get to keep my poker night tips.” A round of chuckles breaks out across the table.

“Are you negotiating with me, little devil?” Gage asks, his head tilting, voice eerily calm.

“You want this ass on your lap? I want my tips.” I’m not backing down. Gage’s eyes move over me slowly, his gaze touching me intimately in his perusal. His attention makes my heart race and my nerves stand on end, feeling like I’m in the sights of a heat-seeking missile.

I can take it. I like to play with fire.

“There are a lot of places I want that gorgeous ass,” Gage responds, the rest of the men whooping around me. Their eyes are still on me, but it only fuels my confidence. A devilish grin slowly spreads across Gage’s face, and adrenaline spikes through me. A rabbit staring down a wolf, hoping for a good chase. “Alright, you keep the money.”

Crossing my arms over my chest and cocking my hip, I narrow my eyes at him warily. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, and if I’m going to be sitting on Gage’s lap, I’m getting something out of it. He meets my gaze without flinching. Kicking back in his chair, he holds one hand out to me and pats his lap with the other. The look I cut him with promises pain and suffering if he’s lying, but he simply smirks.

Motherfucker.

As soon as I step close enough, Gage’s hand snags mine and pulls until I’m all but falling onto his lap. His muscular legs feel solid beneath me, denim rough against my bare thighs. The heady scent of leather, cognac, and tobacco envelops me as his hands grip my hips to shift me right where he wants me. My insides are liquifying, every nerve igniting under his touch. One of his hands snakes around to palm my thigh, giving it a possessive squeeze, his fingers just inches from my needy pussy. The other reaches forward to pick up the cards he laid face down on the table. He discards two cards and has John deal him two more.

“I can feel my luck changing already.” His nose grazes the shell of my ear, his voice low and heavy with meaning. “I bet you can feel it too.”

“So far, all I feel is unsatisfied.”

His cock is hardening beneath me, making me throb with desire. I shift slightly, pressing my ass against him in search of friction to alleviate the pressure building between my thighs. His hand on my waist pulls me closer and slides beneath the hem of my dress.

I have the undivided attention of every man in this room. Grecko looks bored, and I know he’s simply watching because I’m his only source of entertainment while he puffs on his stinky cigar. Dane, Brent, and Dallin watch silently, cards mostly forgotten, as their eyes search for movement where the table blocks their view of Gage’s hand below my waist. John and Anders are gazing at me intently, but their eyes remain on my face, no doubt soaking in the arousal and need I’m emoting with each breath.

I feel the attention pouring down on me like the warmth of the sun on my skin, fueling the lust building inside me. Gage can feel it too, his hand finding my lace panties.

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