Con throws his head back on a surprised bark of laughter. Rando #124 moves to get up, her face twisting in rage, and for a second I think she is going to strike out at me. Con just shoves her head back down on his cock.
 
 “Firebird,” Maverick calls from the table. “Come play poker with me. We need a fourth.”
 
 “You already have a fourth,” Con shoots back.
 
 “No, we have three. One girl has already lost and is paying her debt.” I look away from the blow job to see Maverick has four girls around the table. He is completely dressed, but they are not. One of the girls is completely naked, and on her knees licking the pussy of a girl who is only wearing a thong and her bra. The last girl is still wearing her skirt and heels and looking at Maverick like he is her last meal.
 
 I get up from the couch and take the empty seat at the table, waiting as Maverick deals me in. The way he shuffles the cards without looking at them, his attention fixed on me instead, makes my skin tingle.
 
 I hate when he looks at me like that, like he is picturing all the dirty things he wants to do to me. I want him to do those things. Why does he just look at me like that instead of doing it, already? He has to know that I want him to do everything to me, but he hasn’t touched me again.
 
 We play a few hands. I don’t win, but I don’t lose, either.
 
 The other girl at the table casts me a narrow-eyed look with the largest blue eyes I had ever seen. I feellike telling her she shouldn’t worry about me. She is absolutely gorgeous. Not only does she have those massive bright blue eyes, but her long dark hair flows like silk down her back, and if I were going to pick a woman for Maverick, it wouldn’t be me. It would be her.
 
 I try to get my head in the game, really not wanting to be naked at this table—or at least not any more than I already am in this tiny dress.
 
 Apparently, the girl sitting across from me has the same thought. She doesn’t want me naked at this table, either, and throws hand after hand, looking at me like she’s winning something with each article of clothing she removes.
 
 The crazy thing is…part of me thinks maybe she did win something when she finally removes the rhinestone thong that was hiding absolutely nothing. I understand why when Maverick gives me an inscrutable look and then picks her up, slinging her over his shoulder to go pay her dues in his room.
 
 He doesn’t even look back.
 
 And it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t.
 
 But watching someone else get carried away, get ruined, get seen—it burns more than I want to admit.
 
 I sit back in my chair and release a shaky breath. Yeah…she won.
 
 If I’m going to go after what I want, I’m going to have to learn how to play the game.
 
 I won’t continue standing on the sidelines.
 
 Next time, they won’t overlook me.
 
 Not because I’ll beg…but because I’ll make them regret every second they didn’t choose me.
 
 13
 
 Phoenix
 
 The next morningI’m making my breakfast in the kitchen and contemplating the state of my gameplay when two of the regular maids come up to empty the trash and drop off fresh linens.
 
 “Oh my God—this is where you’ve been?” Sarah looks me up and down.
 
 “Yeah. They moved me here for a while, to be the suite’s dedicated maid.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. None of the Titans will wake until at least ten a.m. so I’m not in my micro dress uniform yet. Hopefully, I can just play this off like extra duty.
 
 “Oh.” Sarah’s brows skyrocket to her hairline. “Thatsounds…fun.”
 
 “It’s just work. Same old, same old.” I shrug my shoulders noncommittally, but I know Sarah isn’t the type to leave without either giving or getting some gossip. I don’t plan on giving her anything, which means I’m going to have to ask her.
 
 I paste a bright smile on my face and take a sip of my coffee. “Sooo…anything interesting going on downstairs? It’s honestly so boring up here.”
 
 My ploy works. Sarah’s eyes get big, and she lets the trash bag in her hand fall against her hip. “Oh my God, so fucking much is happening. We’re all in a tizzy. Do you remember Rachel?”
 
 I frown. “No?” I don’t think I know a Rachel.
 
 “Sure you do. She’s only been working a couple months, but she has long dark hair and is super pretty with those big, freakishly blue eyes?”