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Here’s the fucking kicker:
I don’t smoke.
Tried it once in university. Hated it.
Right now, it’s tasting like fucking bliss, though.
Liam yells in excitement across the room.
“Ooohhhh. Good job, babe. Keep this up, and we’ll be able to buy the place,” Becky cheers him on.
I’m taking a long drag off the cigarette as I turn to look over at them.
Becky is sitting in Liam’s lap with her arms around his neck and her tongue down his throat.
They really are a great couple. Becky has never been so happy.
Liam’s opponents don’t look all that happy that they’re losing, though. Unlike Becky, they look like they’re pissed.
Doesn’t look like they realize that Liam has been hustling them and counting cards the entire time.
They say a sucker is born every minute. And Liam is taking to task five of them right now.
I turn my eyes back to Lock, and he’s checking out my tits.
I don’t blame him for it. In this dress and in this lighting, they look fucking amazing. I mean, they’re amazing anyway, of course, but they really pop right now.
“You ready to play?”
I’m ready to fuck! But I’ll play along for now.
“Deal ‘em out.”
Honestly, I’m horrible at fucking cards. The only reason I’ve done any good tonight is because I’ve been able to distract the other players with my tits.
Like I said, they really pop in this dress and lighting.
Lock is a different story. He’s not so easily distracted.
And he knows all my tells.
I get my two cards, and I lift them up just enough to peek at what I got.
It’s shit.
A fucking three of clubs and a nine of diamonds.
He throws down a couple clay chips of different colors into the middle of the table.
I don’t bother to pay attention to how much it is. It’s all for show at this point.
“I’ll throw in tongue on clit action on top of that bet.”
Now the real betting has started.
I throw down a couple of chips.
I like how they sound when they strike each other.
