Page 9 of V Card

Today, I’d broken that rule. Call me superstitious, but I thought this dress might bring me a little luck. Instead, all I was getting was a headache and a pair of singed eyebrows.

I didn’t look up when a figure darkened the seat next to mine. I didn’t need to. The men here were all the same. Old, married, creepy. With the kind of bloodshot eyes that leered much longer than was polite whenever I leaned over the table to toss in another chip. Couldn’t fault them though. I had nice…assets. The sort that kept the male gaze from focusing too hard on my sleight of hand.

I didn’t cheat to win. I didn’t have to. I just let the game play out a little longer when the pot was too small, the table too empty—or let’s be honest, when I was just plain bored and wanted to fuck with someone. Kind of like right now.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you… Rosalind,” a deep, baritone voice whispered next to my ear the moment my fingertips danced over the card I planned to tuck into my sleeve.

I’d never been caught before, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about what I would do if I ever found myself inthis predicament. Besides, I enjoyed improvising. There was a certain thrill that came with it.

Which was why I still didn’t bother looking up as those same fingertips dropped from the card in my sleeve and trailed up the stranger’s thigh. He knew my name. Which I admit was a little unnerving. Then again, a quick glance at the ID I had to use to sign in could have told him that.

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I asked as my gaze danced over the custom stitching of his suit, the gold buttons of his jacket, and the crisp seams of his dress shirt before landing on a jaw that was so sharp and tense it could cut a girl’s pussy in two.

“Do you know me?”he hissed. “I would like to think so… Perhaps the wallet you stole would help jar that shit memory of yours?”

“Oh, yeah, Irememberyou now.” I grinned, grabbing onto the guy’s jacket and smoothing out the slight wrinkle in his lapel.

His arm snapped out before his palm quickly closed around my wrist. Keeping me just out of reach and halting my movements. He didn’t trust me. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t trust me either. Especially right now.

“But the way I see it… I didn’t steal shit, Mr. Bettencourt. I simply took what was owed to me after Isoldya my V-card. Would you like to buy it again?”

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