Page 11 of Deadly Offer

Nikon hummed against his skin, the sound heightening the pleasure for Reuben. Reuben could only moan in response, his hand moving faster on his cock.

He could feel the pressure building, his body coiling tighter with each stroke of his hand, each flick of Nikon’s tongue. His breath came in sharp gasps, his heart pounding in his chest.

He was close,so close.

Reuben’s back arched as his orgasm hit, a loud guttural groan escaping his lips. His cock pulsed in his hand, hot cum spurting onto his stomach, and his chest. His body convulsed, wave after wave of pleasure rushing over him. Meanwhile, Nikon’s tongue continued to move, gentler now, riding out the aftershocks with him.

As the last tremors subsided, Reuben’s body went limp, his muscles lax. Nikon pressed a last kiss to his inner thigh before the larger man slid up to lie atop Reuben, pressing his ear against his chest with a sigh.

“The things you do to me, Reuben. Only you.”

Chapter 5

In Dmitrii Miroslav’s experience, people fell into two categories: those searching for exits and those hunting for opportunities. Reuben Hoyt did both at once, and that fascinated him.

Now he understood why Nikon Matvei was so obsessed with this man.

Behind the one-way glass of his observation room, Dmitrii tracked Reuben’s careful assessment of the poker room below. Sharp eyes swept the area, seemingly mapping every detail; from the positioning of the security cameras to the private alcoves with their heavy curtains. Not a single glance wasted.

The corner of Dmitrii’s mouth lifted. “Our guest has arrived,” he murmured, his breath barely ghosting the glass.

Weeks of careful planning had culminated in this moment: a whispered rumor about Miroslav’s exclusive games, a casual mention from James Donovan about the stakes. And then finally, the formal invitation delivered through one of Nikon’s own lieutenants, who was secretly paid off by Dmitrii to do so.

And now, watching Reuben’s calm navigation of the space below, Dmitrii savored the satisfaction of a well-laid trap.

His sources had revealed the truth: Reuben was far more than Nikon’s latest plaything, no matter what the rumors claimed. He was a masterpiece of control and observation. The way he studied the dealer, (one of Dmitrii’s most trusted men, placed there specifically for tonight), proved it. The fraction of a second longer that his gaze lingered as he approached the table would have gone unnoticed by most. But not by Dmitrii.

Reuben’s steps faltered for a split second, drawing Dmitrii’s attention. That tiny break revealed everything... Reuben had noticed something wrong with the table arrangement. Not enough to drive him away, but enough to sharpen his already keen focus.

“Let’s see how you handle this, clever boy.” Dmitrii’s breath fogged the glass as he watched Reuben take his seat.

The other players at the table were all regulars, carefully briefed on their roles. The businessman from Hong Kong who always played with his wedding ring. The oil magnate who telegraphed his bluffs through a twitch in his left eye. The London financier who got sloppy after his third scotch.

Reuben settled into his seat as his gaze swept over each one, lingering just long enough to catalog each player without being obvious about it. His fingers drummed once on the table’s green felt surface; the only outward sign of his heightened alertness.

The first few hands played out exactly as Dmitrii had orchestrated. His plants lost and won in the exact pattern he’d specified, building a false sense of their playing styles. But Reuben wasn’t buying it. The slight tilt of his head, the way his fingers stilled completely when the Hong Kong businessman made his tell too obvious; Reuben was assembling the pieces.

A knock at the door pulled Dmitrii’s attention away from the scene below. “Everything is prepared in your office, sir.”

“Perfect.” He straightened his silk tie, though it needed no adjustment. “Have him brought up in exactly five minutes. And make sure Vass knows to fold on the next hand, no matter what cards he’s holding.”

Through the glass, Reuben had just won his first significant pot. His smile was perfect; gracious but reserved. Just enough of a grin to avoid bruising the egos of the other players. But Dmitrii noted how those green eyes flickered toward the mirrored wall,like a chess player sensing the presence of a grandmaster behind the scenes.

“Oh, youaregood.” Dmitrii’s lips curved into a half-smile as he chuckled. “So very good. No wonder Nikon keeps you confined to dealing cards. He knows exactly what he has.”

The next hand played out precisely as planned. Vass folded despite holding a full house, and Reuben’s eyes narrowed just a touch. He was catching on faster than expected. Most poker players would be too caught up in their winning streak to notice the subtle wrongness of their opponents’ plays.

A soft tap at the door. “Sir? It’s time.”

Dmitrii gave one final look through the glass, watching as Reuben collected his chips. “Send Avdey to escort him up.”

In his office, Dmitrii positioned himself behind his antique mahogany desk. The room was designed to impress with windows overlooking the city, and curated art pieces that spoke of old money and refined taste. But the true power lay in the subtle details: the desk positioned so visitors would have the glare of the setting sun in their eyes, and the chair across from him set just low enough to force them to look up.

The door opened, and Reuben entered the room. Up close, Reuben was even more intriguing to Dmitrii; sharp cheekbones and full lips adding to his allure, hair falling just so across his forehead.

Yet, it was those eyes that held Dmitrii’s attention - keen and calculating as they took in every detail of the room while his expression remained perfectly neutral. Handsome and brilliant all in one package... no wonder Nikon kept him so close.

“Mr. Hoyt.” Dmitrii remained seated, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Thank you for accepting my invitation. Please, sit.”

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