Page 47 of Gambler's Conceit

Havoc chuckles at her jokes, but I can barely get myself to smile.

I fidget with the hem of the shirt Caleb bought for me staring down at it instead of looking at the stage. Is it Caleb who owns me, or is it this place? Maybe I’m paranoid to think of the entire casino as a front for something darker, but then, I’ve started to hear some rumors. I doubt theRoiis on the up and up.

Havoc shifts in his seat, and I glance up to see two scantily clad people performing a highly suggestive acrobatic show. It’s only a step away from softcore porn, with how much skin is showing and how their bodies are touching.

People laugh, and I don’t understand what the joke is—but Havoc is laughing too, so somebody must have said something funny. My ears are buzzing strangely, and I realize I can’t hear anything that’s going on.

I need to do something to get my mind off of this. Anything.

I nuzzle Havoc’s neck, pressing a kiss to the skin. “Hey,” I whisper.

Havoc strokes my back gently. “Hey,” he answers with amusement. “The show getting to you?”

I start to say yes, then I realize he doesn’t mean it in the way I’m thinking. He thinks I’m getting off on it, not that I’m practically melting down.

“Of course,” I say anyway, flashing a smirk at him. I slide my hand over his thigh to his cock, squeezing gently. “You?”

He huffs out a laugh. “A little. Those are some hot guys on stage.” He leans in and points toward the acrobat on the tightrope. “I keep waiting to see if his cock slips out of that g-string.”

I follow his gesture even as I rub his cock through his pants. “Hmm. Are you wanting it to?” I ask, trying for teasing.

He doesn’t seem to even notice anything’s wrong, and my resentment toward him ratchets up even higher.

Havoc puts his hand around my wrist, stopping my movements. “Seven… If you keep doing that, we’ll be the ones putting on a show.”

I scoff at him. “No one’s paying attention to us,” I point out. “They’re all engrossed in the show.”

Everyone is, it seems… except me.

Why the fuck am I like this?

Havoc meets my gaze, and I can’t tell if he’s actually interested or not.

I need him to be interested.

I need him to focus on me.

I use my other hand to stroke him, and he finally lets go of me so I can undo his fly.

“Fuck. But we keep things quiet,” he whispers, his eyes darting around.

“Of course,” I reassure him.

I want to slide to my knees, to really lose myself in this moment, but that’s too likely to draw attention to us. A surreptitious handjob should go unnoticed, especially with how sparsely this section of the audience is occupied.

I kiss his neck again.

It isn’t even fucking fair, how easy this is.

Havoc bites his lip to stifle a groan, then removes my hand. I glare at him, but he’s just removing his jacket so he can place it over his lap.

“I’ll do you after,” Havoc whispers.

I smile at him. “You don’t have to,” I tell him, putting my hand right back on his crotch as I work to overcome his reservations. “I’m just enjoying myself.”

Havoc strokes the back of my neck, giving it a light squeeze, and the hint of violence has my heart racing in good ways and bad ways alike.

He spreads his legs to give me better access. His cock slowly hardens under my touch, and I watch his expression. He’s trying very hard not to show how turned on he is.

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