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CHAPTER4
Brogan
Las Vegas.
The city of ultimate sin.
My kind of place.
As I lifted my glass, it would seem there wasn’t a pair of eyes at the roulette table that wasn’t watching every single freaking thing I did. The other players were running out of patience with me.
Fuck ‘em.
I would take all the damn time I needed.
As the dealer’s pinched face came into view, I resisted lifting my middle finger just because I could. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stepped foot in a casino. Gambling was an art. It was one I’d been good at for years.
I stood holding the dice in my hand, rolling them between my fingers as I stared at the roulette wheel. I’d lost more than I’d won over the course of an hour, which pissed me off. I’d once been a damn good player, able to beat the odds.
Maybe the difference was the fact I’d spent the last several years languishing in a brutal prison. The odds were still against me. Time off for good behavior meant shit. I would have the stigma of a felony crime dangling over my head for the rest of my life.
A wave of rage tore through me, ugly visions almost derailing my determination to shove aside the brutality of incarceration.
“Sir, if you’re going to bet, you need to do it now.” The voice of the pain in the ass dealer echoed, his stern tone riling me more than it should. I was here to have a good time, the unexpected gift of four days of luxury something I planned on indulging in. And no pompous pimply faced pipsqueak was going to derail my plans.
Dice roulette was my thing, a game I’d played for as long as I could remember. The lady wheel had always been good to me.
Until now.
I lifted my head, giving him the kind of look that said without words what would happen to the asshole if he bothered me again. The other players at the table, all dressed glamorously for the masquerade party, shrank away, realizing the kind of man I was.
I was the only one in the room who’d refused to wear a costume or even a mask, laughing at the hostess when she’d tried to stop me from entering the casino. No one would ever prevent me from indulging in whatever proclivities I desired ever again. I glanced down at my chips and smirked. I had twenty thousand left of the fifty my buddy had left for me at the dealer stand. It was good to have friends in high places. The thought made me smile.
I continued to shift the dice between my fingers, more apprehensive than I’d ever been before. This was play money, not even my own, but I was the kind of man who refused to lose. I blew on the dice again, my nerves on edge, my gut telling me all the effort meant shit.
“Sir. I need to ask you to place a bet or hand over the dice.”
The brutal man inside of me was about ready to slap my hand around his throat, beating his head against the felted table when I felt a tickling sensation against my skin.
“Why don’t you allow me?” the soft, seductive female voice said from beside me. She entangled her fingers in mine, pursing her lips before pulling open my hand.
The mysterious masked woman had hair the color of gold kissed by the sun, her long curls floating across her shoulders dipping all the way to her waist. Dressed in a body hugging, gloriously red satin dress that accentuated everything God had given her, it didn’t matter that her face was covered by a glittering black mask. I concentrated on her plump red lips as she dragged her tongue across them seconds before lowering her head, blowing across the dice.
It had been so damn long since I’d been around a beautiful creature that my primal needs almost took over. I wanted to drag her out of the room and fuck her like some savage beast in the wild.
But I curtailed my desires for now. The surest way of getting my ass tossed out of the fine establishment was fucking one of the other guests across a craps table.
“For good luck. I think you might be surprised,” she purred, the sound like smooth silk. Her words alone burned a hole deep within me, the tone creating a hard throbbing in my cock.
I gave her a single nod before wrapping my fingers around the dice, prepared to toss them. When she snagged my forearm, digging her long, crimson nails into my skin, my balls tightened. “Always bet on red. And by the way, one is my lucky number.”
One.
She took a deep breath, pulling the flute of champagne in her other hand to her lips. The scent of her exotic perfume was intoxicating, much more so than the expensive glass of scotch I’d pined for. I cocked my head, allowing my heated gaze to slowly shift all the way down to the floor. The lovely woman was gorgeous, her voluptuous breasts and rounded hips making my mouth water.
Chuckling, I figured what the fuck. I shoved the entire thirty thousand I had left to red, number one. The people remaining at the table gasped. They were used to ten-dollar bids from worthless fucks who thought they’d find a better way of life in mastering the art of gambling.
I knew better.
