Page 3 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

Although I’d feel almost guilty about taking his money. We—and by “we” I meant the Choir—never paid to attend events at the Diamond Club. Spider had found a way in two years ago, and we’d been exploiting it ever since. We just had to make sure that we never discussed it in front of Priest because he’d tell his good buddy Charles Black, who owned the hotel, and the loophole would be closed.

Did I feel guilty for creeping around at the Black Diamond? Nope. Firstly, Black was a billionaire so he could afford a few freebies, and secondly, he owned a security firm—he could carry out his own damn audits.

Hot Guy regarded me closely, then finally shook his head again. “I’ll have to pass.”

“Because you think we’ll get caught?”

“Because my budget doesn’t run to making bets I think I’ll lose, either.”

Aw, it was sweet that he had so much confidence in me. I gave him another once-over in light of the new information, taking in the navy chinos that showcased his well-muscled ass, the plain leather belt, and the scratched diver’s watch. He wasn’t drinking expensive liquor from that high-ball glass.

“Okay, new stakes.” I leaned in close and took a sip of his drink. Straight Coke, not even a shot of whiskey. “I bet you a blow job we can sneak into the party.”

I mean, I’d win either way.

His eyes saucered. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” But I could tell he thought I was kidding. “C’mon, live a little. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

“If only that were true.” He blew out a breath, shaking his head, but this time, it was more “I can’t believe I’m considering this” than an outright “no.”

I stood and walked away, half-turning and beckoning him to follow. If he did, happy days. If he didn’t, I’d find another willing dick for tonight.

There was no need to look back.

CHAPTER 2

JEZEBEL

Icould feel Cole behind me, and when I passed the double doors that led to the kitchen, I saw his reflection from the corner of my eye and smiled to myself. I only ever played to win.

“Hey, I don’t even know your name,” he called.

I grinned over my shoulder. “Bella.”

Anyway, that was how I ended up in Cole’s dated home a little before midnight, naked with my legs spread as he went to town with his tongue. And by all that was holy, he knew what to do with it.

“If you thought you’d lose the bet, why did you agree to it?” I asked, tunnelling my fingers through his thick brown hair. “Are you a risk-taker? You like to play long odds?”

At first, I’d pegged him for the cautious type, but on the roof, he’d surprised me by heading for the dance floor and pulling me along with him. The free drinks might have provided some encouragement, but he’d kissed me back when I pushed him up against a palm tree and checked out his junk.

Which was impressive, by the way.

He looked up, his chin glistening. “No, I just wanted to taste you.”

“Don’t fucking stop.”

He was a magician with that tongue, his fingers too, and if he kept flicking my clit like that, I might be tempted to invite myself over again. But I never went back for seconds. Not anymore. The only constants in my life were Priest, my girls, and the gold-standard vibrator I kept in my nightstand drawer. Some of my former roommates had come back into my life as well, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I had more bad memories of those days than good.

Cole added another finger into the mix, and I nearly blurted out my phone number.

Fuck.

I bit my lip hard as I sorted through my thoughts. Cole Gallagher wasn’t the type of man I usually gravitated toward. I picked out the players, the dirty flirts a decade older than me who wanted a night of fun and nothing more. If they had the telltale dent of a wedding ring on their finger, so much the better—they’d keep their mouths shut about the mystery brunette who was there when they fell asleep and gone in the morning. And they always fell asleep. I took as many orgasms as I could wring from them before I stole out like a thief in the night, and even if they had the sexual prowess of a sea slug, I knew how to use them to get myself off. If they didn’t have the skill, they could watch while I educated them.

But Cole needed no lessons.

If I hadn’t slipped his wallet out of his pocket and rifled through the contents while he wasn’t looking, I might have thought his middle name was Venom. But it wasn’t. It was Benjamin. Cole Benjamin Gallagher. He hadn’t been kidding about the lack of cash—he was carrying forty bucks and a credit card—plus he had a San Galliciandriver’s licence and an international driving permit. There was also a keycard for the Galaxy, which was one of the shittier hotels in Sin City, and I’d breathed a sigh of relief when I realised he was an out-of-towner.

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