Page 7 of Betting Her Curves

“As you know, Mr. O’Lachlan, any recording devices are strictly prohibited in the main room. If you’ll just allow me your phone?” the woman asks expectantly.

“Of course,” I growl before taking out my cell and slipping it into her outstretched palm. “The Degas would never tolerate cheaters.”

The woman nods before slipping the cell into a small silk bag, and then gestures to the room before us.

“Please, Mr. O’Lachlan. They’ve been waiting for you.”

I step into the double-height space from yesterday, my stride confident. Nothing has changed except now, there’s a small bar set up in one corner, with a bartender in shirt sleeves and a dark vest. A few tables with chairs are scattered here and there, but it’s the circular table in the center that draws the eye. Around the flocked green velvet surface, a few men and one woman perch on stools, waiting expectantly.

“Sir,” the dealer calls politely. “If you’ll join us?”

My eyes fly to the one woman in the room because it’s the gorgeous girl from yesterday. She’s even more ravishing now, clad in a red evening gown which highlights her enormous tits, narrow waist, and delectably wide hips. Her lips are painted crimson, and her big blue eyes blink at me like she’s trying to recall my face from memory. But therein lies the rub because she’s never met me ... while I’ve already gotten an eyeful of her voluptuous curves.

4

ASHLEY

Where do I know this man?I ask myself. I tend to be good with names and faces, and surely, I’d remember if I’d met a man so domineering in the past. After all, our new entrant isn’t just tall and handsome. He exudes charisma in waves, from the slight smirk on his handsome features to the cut glass of his square jaw.

You know him, Ashley, the voice in my head encourages.Think, think!

My mind whirs because anything I can dredge up on a competitor can only help me, given the high stakes ahead. Have I seen him play before, perhaps at another casino? Have I glimpsed him at a poker tournament, that powerful build unmistakable in a sea of smaller, slighter men? Or maybe he’s a celebrity out to gamble away his fortune, and I’ve seen him on TV.

But nothing pops to mind, despite the fact that the alpha male definitely knows me somehow. As he seats himself at the tableacross from me, those blue eyes slide appreciatively over my deep décolletage before coming up to my slightly parted red lips.

“Patrick O’Lachlan,” he says with a slight Irish burr. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The other men nod in acknowledgement, muttering greetings, but I continue to stare at the alpha male like a woman possessed. Then I snap back to the present. This is no time to act like a lovesick fool, and especially not when those blue eyes are dancing as they meet my gaze. The smirk at the corner of his lips deepens, like he can read my mind, and a dimple shows itself in his right cheek, making him even more handsome. OMG, if I could slap his face before kissing him, I’d do just that.

Are you insane?my conscience practically screams.Why are you even thinking about kissing a competitor? This is no time to lose your wits. You need them so that you can win this game.

Unfortunately, the voice is right and I need to stay focused. I still don’t know if the stash of diamonds sitting on my bureau is fake or real. Maybe the haul is worth millions, but I don’t know. It could also be a bunch of cut glass valued at next to nothing, and my whole act yesterday was for naught. Swallowing, I fix my eyes resolutely on the dealer. The long and the short of it is that I’m desperate for cash, and I need to win tonight.

Fortunately, there’s no time to waste. The dealer smiles formally, his expression polite.

“Thank you for joining us at the Degas tonight. Management appreciates your patronage, and as always, we are here for your comfort and enjoyment. Just before we begin, some basic house rules.”

The dealer drones on for a bit, and I tune him out. At this point, I’ve played enough cards to be able to listen with one ear as he sets forth minimum standards of play, betting practices, and even an overview of Texas Hold’em. It’s all good because Texas Hold’em is my specialty, and I can feel my confidence surging as he explains the basic contours of the game. I’m going to take these men to the cleaners tonight.

But then something catches my eye and I blink.Wait, is that...? Can’t be. Patrick O’Lachlan is seated three to my left, so he’s actually quite a distance, with an overweight fat cat in a tux and a slim Arab man in a velvet smoking jacket between us. Yet the angle of the table allows for me to see his lap, and that’s when the air evaporates from my lungs. Literally, it disappears in a whoosh because the man is packing ahugeclub of iron. It snakes along his thigh almost all the way to his knee, the expensive fabric unable to conceal the massive length beneath it. Patrick glances at me quickly, and smirks when he sees my gaze.

My nipples harden as heat flushes through my pussy. Unconsciously, my thighs squeeze together and I can feel an embarrassing moisture pooling there. How can this man be affecting me so? Patrick smirks again, pulling his jacket even further from his thigh to show off that enormous monster. It twitches under my gaze, and I let out an involuntary gasp, my eyes wide. The dealer turns to me, his expression inquisitive.

“Is everything alright, Miss Finnegan? As the only lady present at the table tonight, your happiness is of our utmost concern. The Degas is more than ready to address any concerns or questions you might have.”

I tear my eyes away from Patrick O’Lachlan’s twitching anaconda, even as he smirks again.Get yourself together!the voice in my head screams.You’re here to make money!

Sadly, the prospect of winning is receding quickly, although I manage to speak in a near-normal voice.

“I’m fine, thank you, Alex. Just excited to play.”

The dealer nods his head respectfully.

“Then without any ado, let’s get started. Please place your bets.”

I take a deep breath, willing my pulse to slow even as my blood continues to boil. But then, I chance another look at Patrick O’Lachlan and that asshole has the temerity tosmileat me! Not just a smile, but a mesmerizing, asshole-y smirk as he flashes those white teeth. With that, my resolve to win hardens ... because I’m going to make him pay.

5

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