AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Imightbea liar and a cheat but so is Raphael. He definitelydidn’t count to ten before he rose to his feet and sliced through the crowd toward me.
Panic buzzing in my veins, I bolt through an unmarked door with no sense of direction. When it slams behind me, the thrum of the party fades, and the smell of damp earth assaults me. Another cave—great. Away from curious eyes, my brisk walk breaks into a clumsy run as I travel deeper into the darkness. This cave turns off into another, and then another, and then when I turn again and there’s no light in sight, I realize I’m a fucking idiot. Why do I keep running into places without knowing where they lead?
I guess because the unknown ahead of me is still less frightening than the known behind me.
Biting down the dread rock-climbing up my throat, I keep moving, distracting myself by mentally brushing up on my monologue.
Card counting without any outside aid isn’t illegal. There is no law stating that a player can’t assign each card a high or low value to estimate the values of cards not yet drawn.
I’ve had this speech locked in one of those break in case of emergency boxes in my head for years, but I’ve never had to use it. Tried to with Martin O’Hare, but his hand found my throat before I could get it out.
I wonder where Raphael’s hands will go when he catches me.
On Thursday night, his hand flew to my throat, too. What I didn’t expect was for them to slip off me when I confessed my worst sin, and then for him to tuck me up in his car and tell me he’ll handle it. What does that even mean? Should I be worried or relieved?
A chill travels up my spine, and not just because it’s freezingin here. It’s even darker now, and I can’t even see my ragged puffs of condensation painting the blackness.
My fingers graze the craggy wall, following the curve into another fucking tunnel, where I crash into something stone-like. Something with hot hands, a violent heartbeat, and no regard for my safety as it slams me against the wall.
If a million enemies had followed me into the cave network, I’d still know it was Raphael who’d found me. Because Christ, no other scent could light a fire between my thighs like the warm cocktail of cologne, mint, and dangerthat seeps out of this man’s pores. Even the bitter breeze of whiskey leaving his lips and grazing my throat doesn’t bother me; I’m too high off the weight of his body caging me in.
Gentleman. That word doesn’t exist under the cloak of this darkness, and when his hands start to roam, I know I don’t want it to. They fist the skirt of my dress and drag it up my thighs. If the urgency in his movements hadn’t made me so dizzy, I’d tell him to be careful, because I’d left the tag on this dress in the hopes of taking it back tomorrow.
“Nice dress,” he hisses, all silk-clad venom against the flickering pulse in my throat. “You steal it?”
His hands make contact with my bare hips, the fabric of my dress now draped around his forearms. Every inch of my body sings with anticipation, the icy chill whistling in the small gap between us reminding me that I shouldn’t feel this fucking hot in December.
“Not this one,” I grind out, my lips against his chest. “Bought it with my stripper money—”
A hard, hot slap connects with my ass cheek, and my yelp of surprise soaks into the expensive fabric of his shirt. “What did I say about stripping for other men, Penelope?” he says, his rough tone at odds with the slow, soothing circles his palm now makes on my stinging ass.
“I don’t need to strip for other men. I’ve got this one client who overpays for lap dances in his car.”
Another slap. This one so loud the impact echoes off the dripping ceiling. My moan rises up after it, like steam in a hot sauna. Before I can suck in another breath, his hips push me further into the wall, something hard and throbbing in the middle of them.
Fucking hell. A void opens up in my lower stomach and begs to be filled with friction. I don’t have to give him the satisfaction of grinding myself against him like I did in his car, because both his hands slide round to my ass and cup my cheeks as he pulls me against his erection.
It nestles perfectly between my thighs, and I’m too delirious from the weight of it to come up with another sarcastic retort.
His lips brush the crown of my head. “You said you were going straight. Martin not teach you anything?”
“I am. I mean, I have—”
Another slap on my ass. This one is so violent that it lurches me forward, so my clit tingles on his bulge.
I’m going out of my mind. All I can hear is buzzing in my ears when he speaks again. “There’s only one little brat on this Coast who’d teach Rory to card count.”
Sparks run from the warmth of his fingertips down to my pussy as they trail along the thin band of my thong. When they connect under my navel, I stop breathing.
If he dipped those thick fingers lower, he’d realize my body doesn’t hate him as much as my brain does.
But he doesn’t. He only snaps the band with an irritated hiss and grabs my wrist. He tugs me into the darkness, and when I pull back, he tightens his hold on me.
“You won’t make it out of here on your own, Penelope.”
Yeah, not a chance. Ass stinging and heart thundering, I follow him blindly through the tunnels. How the fuck does he know where he’s going?
His heavy footsteps echo against the thick walls, and as the sound of the party grows louder, my body grows lighter with relief. That was a surprisingly easy punishment for the crime committed. Just like yesterday when he chased me into the forest and I confessed the reason I was really on the Coast, he let me off easy.
