Chapter Five

“Hmm, what time is it?

He laughed. “It's Vegas, kitten. Does it matter?”

“You're right. I'm parched.”

“Let me get you some water.” He rose from the bed naked and made his way to the elaborate wet bar. Rome put a few cubes in a crystal glass, then poured the Pellegrino and added a slice of lemon. He brought it back to the bed and watched her gulp thirstily, then slump back into the pile of down pillows. “What did you do to me?”

He took her glass and re-filled it, then retrieved one for himself. He sat on the bed beside her, enjoying the view of her nakedness, and her plump lips sucking on the ice cube. He grew to a semi-hard state and she lifted a brow.

“Do you ever rest?”

“Not with you around. Tell me about poker.”

Rome watched her face close up and wondered what had spooked her in the past. Or who. “What do you want to know?” she asked lightly.

“Not many little girls grow up to be world known poker players. How did you get involved with the business?”

He wondered if she'd tell the truth or lie. This was a woman not afraid of the truth. But in her world, hiding emotion was key to the win. Rome wondered if too many years playing the game so hard taught her to hide. She was a fierce warrior who would be forever loyal once you belonged to her. Roman wondered how many men she'd claimed, and the jealousy burned like a shot of whiskey.

“I grew up as a vagabond. My mom took off when I was young and my dad raised me. Unfortunately, my dad was a huge gambler and a con artist. He loved it all: horseracing, slots, tables. He couldn't drag me to the casinos until I was legal, but he gave me an education early.”

“How so?”

She shrugged elegant shoulders and stared at the ice in her glass. “He taught me how to pickpocket. How to use my age to distract a mark. Then he got me a fake ID, dressed me up, and took me into the casinos.”

The reality of her childhood struck him hard. “What about school?”

“I went here and there. Mostly, I educated myself. I was obsessed with books—all kinds. Classics, poetry, business. Then I started reading psychology and found the art of reading people. Ticks, facial expressions, how people lied. My education was the best because it was on the street.” She hmphed in disdain. “Stupid people spend thousands for a degree when they could get anything they need free. Anyway, something clicked with poker. I was pretty good at math, and had a photographic memory. I also got my father's skill.”

“What was that?”

She gave a twisted smile. “The luck of the Irish, of course. Unfortunately, my dad liked the drink as much as the gambling.”

“What happened?”

Darkness stole over her face for a second. Then she pushed it away with an expert ease he recognized immediately. “Found him passed out in a hotel with an empty bottle at his side. Had a heart attack and died on the spot.”

“How old were you?”

“Nineteen. Old enough to get by myself.”

Roman nodded as if he agreed and understood. Inside, his heart stopped, and then resumed beating. “But you still weren't old enough to gamble legally.”

“That's right. But I had squirreled enough money to get by. Some of my father's friends took me in and gave me shelter. And I took the time to learn.” Her smile came fast and hard, with a glitter in those violet eyes. “By the time I was ready, I had made my first grand by the end of the day. It was only a matter of time before I perfected my craft and suddenly, I was sucked into the Poker circuit.”

“Easy to get sucked in, but hard to remain a consistent winner.”

She shrugged again and shook the ice around in her glass. “I have my father's luck. I don't drink. And I'm careful with my money.”

Her will not to just endure but to thrive knocked him down like a sucker punch. She made no excuses and asked for no pity. Rome realized she used those emotions in her work. Control was key for her survival, but in the bedroom, Sloane needed to give up that control in order to feel. Somehow, some way, he knew in his gut he needed to push those buttons to go deeper.

He wanted to go deeper. But she wasn't ready. Yet.

So, he gave her what she needed. Not a shred of pity, just understanding and acceptance. “You made your life on your own damn terms.” He flashed an intimate smile, and then lowered his voice to a husky purr. “Good girl.”

The familiar term affected her immediately. Her pupils dilated and her heartbeat sped up. Roman scented her arousal from here, and knew she was aching and wet. He figured he had a couple of hours left before dawn.

His eyes lit on the glass she held and felt a smile curve his lips.

Sloane stopped shaking the glass. He almost laughed at the combination of wariness and lust gleaming within her eyes. With slow, deliberate motions, he reached out and plucked the glass from her fingers.

“Lay back, Sloane.”

She did. She teetered on the edge of acceptance and rebellion. Roman knew she'd never bore him with her ability to keep him off balance. Her very demeanor called to his soul to complete him.

“Now, close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you.”

He adjusted her on the bed with her hands up by her head to lift her breasts upward, and then pulled her knees up so her pussy was exposed to his gaze. Her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

He sighed. “Another direct order disobeyed.”

Her eyes flashed fire. “I'm not your sub, buddy. And I like my eyes opened.”

Roman left her for a moment, and then returned with a silk pillowcase. “Again, we'll do it the hard way.”

“But what—”

He moved fast and bound her wrists once again to the headboard. Then rolled the silk fabric of the pillowcase into a sleek rope and placed it over her eyes, snugly tying a knot behind her head.

“Roman!”

“Our night isn't over yet, and you lost the bet. Use your safe word if you want, but if it’s anything other than poker, I'm going to gag you.”

Silence ensued. He smothered a laugh and sat beside her. Her body vibrated with tension, so he spent some time stroking her silky golden skin, relaxing her into a deep trust state. “Just relax, kitten, and let me pleasure you.”

“But—”

“Shhhhh.” He covered her mouth with his, gently playing with her tongue, and sipping at her lower lip until he coaxed a moan from her. Her muscles softened as he ran gentle caresses over her throbbing breasts, down her stomach, her arms, her legs. He massaged her feet, kneading her instep with hard motions that made her sigh with pleasure. He lulled her into a floating, aroused state, enjoying the open reaction of her body, and then took an ice cube from her glass.

He touched the cube to one of her nipples.

She shot up from the bed, but the ties held her, and he moved the ice over each hard nipple, and then took each peak into his hot mouth to suckle. When she relaxed against the heat of his mouth, he slid the cube down her belly, dipped into her navel, and coasted to her inner thighs. Rome kept his mouth busy, alternating his hot tongue with the cold ice cube, until she writhed under him, lit with arousal.

He took another ice cube from the glass and hovered over her clit. Slowly, he slid his fingers in and out of her pussy; wringing out moisture, then used his tongue to work her clit with long, hot strokes. As her hips arched for more, he quickly pressed the cube against her swollen nub.

She came apart, the orgasm wrecking her body in beautiful form. Roman quickly sheathed himself with a condom, and then slid home.

Her tight heat squeezed around him mercilessly. He plunged over and over, claiming her for his own, as he rubbed the melting cubes over her nipples, pinching them in his hands to further her arousal. With one final plunge, he came hard, and felt her clench around him in her own orgasm, and they fell together on the bed in a mingle of limbs and sweat dampened skin.

And Roman wondered if he'd ever be the same man again.