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Katerina needs to choose her words more carefully. Sex not on the table? Fine by me. I’m more than happy to fuck her on the floor; against the wall; in bed; on the couch; on my desk. The possibilities are endless.
My encrypted pager buzzes, and I grab it and read the message from Darius.
Need someone to remove surveillance equipment ASAP. Ace’s Wild Boxing Club.
Looks like I’ll be hitting the gym this morning. I text my crew to meet me with a delivery truck so we can move the goods.
Driving to the address I was forwarded, I walk to the back door and ring the bell. Darius appears covered head to toe in crimson. “Christ, man. Your workouts are getting more intense,” I joke.
“Blood, sweat, and tears,” Darius agrees. “I need to dispose of this fucker, Russell.” He jerks his head to a large duffel bag. “I’m gonna grab a shower and then bleach down the men’s locker room. Can you give everything a once-over for me after I leave?”
“No problem. And the surveillance equipment?”
“Downstairs. John was running a gambling hall with his buddy, Russell’s help. Boss wants your crew to go through the security footage.”
“On it.”
“I need to get back to Newark. Thanks, man,” Darius tells me.
“Hold up. What’s this I hear about you getting married, you fucker, and you didn’t even tell me,” I say, half-jokingly.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. When the Fates smile down on me, I don’t flip them off.” He grins from ear to ear.
“Congrats, man. I’m happy for you.” I go to fist bump him, but drop my hand. “Sorry, but you’re covered in innards.”
Darius glances down to his shirt. “Damn. I don’t know how Sammy stays so clean.”
“It’s a skill,” I comment.
He scoffs. “Don’t tell him that.”
Chapter
Six
Kat
I arrive at what used to be Sergio’s restaurant; the new sign says Fabio’s. It looks closed, but I walk to the back per the text message instructions and ring the bell.
Fabio answers the door wearing another flashy suit and a smirk on his pretty face. “This way.” He crooks his fingers; I swear he’s doing it to remind me those particular digits were inside me.
Ignoring the gesture—and my pussy tingling at the memory—I follow him down the hall and to a door he opens with a hand sensor. He flips on the light, and I trail behind him down the stairs, having reached a poker room similar to the setup in the basement of Ace’s Wild. Except this one is bigger and much more sophisticated—craps tables, roulette wheels, blackjack tables, and poker tables, with a large bar in the back.
“Is there a particular game you’d like to start with?” I ask, getting down to business.
“How about poker?” he suggests.
“Works for me.” Taking a seat at the green felt table, I grab a deck of cards—getting a feel for them in my hands. “I don’t like these cards,” I decide.
“Why?” he asks, now seated across from me.
To demonstrate, I set the deck down, and the top card slides off. “Too slippery. That doesn’t happen with a good-quality deck. Plus, these are too flimsy—an unscrupulous player could easily mark them.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash secured with a rubber band. Taking out a hundred, he tosses it on the table. “Buy whatever cards are up to your standards and bring them to our next lesson.”
“Sure,” I tell him, pocketing the cash with every intention of keeping the change. “Are these decks what you use in your poker rooms?”
Fabio leans back in his chair and answers, “As far as I know.”
