AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You look fuckable.”
She didn’t want the compliment to impact her, especially because
of how filthy it was, but it was hard to ignore. Ethan was easily the best-looking guy she’d ever spent time with, let alone been intimate with. He put Kyle’s goody-goody All-American vibe to shame. Not to mention, Ethan had been with a lot of girls. That was a matter of public record. So for him to find her attractive somehow meant more than it might from another man. She felt special, like she stood out.
Samantha Hart had never stood out before, unless she counted being a head above everyone else in her grade-school photos.
The simple ego boost did wonders for her, making her feel lighter and more confident.
She could totally do this.
“You ready?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
He handed her a small stack of purple chips. He must have had someone collect them for him, since by his own admission he was banned from the casinos. Maybe the concierge had helped while they were arranging to have the world’s tiniest dress sent up to her room. “This is two thousand dollars,” he explained.
Sam examined the plastic circles in her hand. Each one was worth five hundred dollars. How could something so insignificant be worth so much? She clenched them in a fist, her palms beginning to sweat instantly. The bravado she’d felt moments earlier was fading fast.
This wasn’t her money to lose.
Two thousand dollars was her living expenses for an entire month, and Ethan had just handed it over to her.
“All you have to do is win a few hands. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” she repeated, barely able to hear her voice over the pounding in her ears. “That’s it.”
“Once you hit ten, cash out.”
She nodded. The chips bit into her skin, feeling heavier than they had when he handed them over. Now they meant so much more. This was his life in her hands, and if she fucked up, it was Ethan who would pay the price.
“Ethan, I…”
“What’s up?”
I can’t do this. I’m going to screw it up. Why are you trusting me?
“Wish me luck.”
He leaned in and kissed her, a soft graze of his perfect, pillowy lips against hers, making the back of her neck flush with heat and her head spin in a drunk, happy way.
When he pulled away, he held her chin with his thumb and forefinger and favored her with his luscious, wicked smile. “Luck, be my lady tonight.”
Sam wobbled on her heels as she moved across the indoor boardwalk, through the casino and towards the high-limit gaming area. It felt strange, not having to leave her hotel in order to complete this half-brained scheme.
Inside her beaded clutch—the one thing of her own Ethan hadn’t insisted on ordering from the in-hotel clothing store—the stack of chips rattled merrily. It was a hell of a lot of money to fit into such a small bag, and she was going in with the intention of quintupling it.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and reminded herself it was just a game, and one she had the basic skill set to win. As long as she kept a clear head and played it smart, she’d be able to win Ethan’s money. Bet big, win big. That was the idea.
Sam made her way through the throngs of people, trying to ignore the stink of smoke. Chubby middle-aged tourists sat side by side with overdressed women who looked like plastic dolls, all glassy-eyed as they fed their money into slot machines. Different movie themes glowed out from the neon, offering her a chance to win The Hangover or Sex and the City jackpots, as long as she could find the right shoes to woo Mr. Big.
Giving her dress one last downwards tug, she skirted the main gambling pit and crossed in front of the entrance until she arrived at the high-stakes area. She lifted her chin to give her best impression of a haughty woman who was accustomed to throwing money away, and marched up the stairs like she owned the place.
Two men were seated at a blackjack table, one tapping his cards while the other glared solemnly at what he’d been dealt. A few high-roller slot machines dotted the room, and to one side was a series of poker tables. One was full, but the other had three seats open, so Sam wove her way around the tables.
“Is this taken?” she asked, indicating one of the empty seats.
The man beside the chair shrugged and grumbled a “No.” Then he gave her a glance, and his red-rimmed eyes widened slightly, his gaze cruising over her like she was a car he might want to take for a test drive. Ethan was right, the dress might come in handy after all.
