And pretty much every time, that distraction had been Dean. Wondering what he was doing this evening. What he'd done when he'd left my place earlier today. If he'd met with anyone. If he was calling me while my phone was off. When I'd see him again.
If Stanley hadn't given me a smirk after he'd won a hand I'd folded on, I might've kept barely breaking even, but the moment I'd seen that bastard grin, my competitive nature kicked in, and that'd done what nothing else had accomplished. I stopped thinking about Dean and focused on kicking Stanley's ass.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table and crossing my ankles under my chair. This son of a bitch had no idea what he'd gotten himself into. I was done holding back.
I played fast, running the table at my own pace instead of at the dealers. I forced hands, quick counting to know which ones I could risk and which I couldn't. Hand after hand went down, and I gave up small bets to get to the cards I wanted. I didn't even bother to pretend that I wasn't counting. This wasn't a casino, so it wasn't anything more illegal than the game itself, and Stanley didn't strike me as the sort of guy who'd be willing to admit that someone like me was smart enough to do what I've been doing.
“I'm out.” The dark-haired man next to me pushed his chair back from the table.
“Me too.” The man on the other side of me was at least grinning when he stood. “I'm all tapped out for this week.”
Stanley looked at the other players, and then back at me. “Anyone else going to take a hike?”
I smiled in a way that I was pretty sure looked more like baring my teeth than anything remotely pleasant. “I'm not going anywhere until I'm done.”
And I wasn't going to be done until everyone else was wiped out, including Stanley Maverick. It might not have been the smart thing to do, but that smarmy little grin was too much.
“Was it your father or a boyfriend who taught you how to play?” Stanley asked.
“Who says anyone taught me?” I countered. “Much less a man.”
“How long did it take you to figure out if you flash some tits and shake your ass that men start thinking with their dicks?”
I slid two cards toward the dealer and took the ones he offered. “Not long. Men aren't exactly the most complex creatures.”
“None of that makes you a good card player.”
“You're right,” I agreed. “My assets aren't what make me good.”
One of the other men called, and I showed my hand. Stanley's expression darkened as I pulled the chips to me.
“I'm just that good.”
I hadn't had a difficult time being submissive to Dean, but that wasn't my natural personality, not in real life, no matter how nice I could be. Only Dean made me want to submit. Maverick brought out a whole different side of me, and that side wasn't very nice.
There would probably be consequences, but I'd deal with them when they came up. Right now, I had an arrogant bastard to put in his place.