The Bet by Max Monroe

Jude

Right in the middle of a table full of big, burly, poker-playing men, I find Sophie.

She looks so damn tiny compared to the rest of the table, but she also looks crazy hot. Her legs are crossed beneath a pair of cutoff jean shorts, and her badge-covered T-shirt stretches across her breasts in the most tantalizing way.

Ten fucking badges she’s earned thus far. And if all goes well, I’ll get her to earn another ten before we leave this town.

When she meets my eyes, her lips crest up into the kind of smile that creates one of my own, and I pick up the pace to close the distance between us. Once I’m standing directly beside her, I press a kiss to the side of her cheek.

“How’s it going, babe?” I ask as I pointedly make eye contact with all the men at this table, even the tall, gangly dude in the casino uniform and name tag that reads Dealer.

It’s not so much that I’m marking my territory, but more that I’m making sure they understand that if they fuck with Sophie, they’re going to have to fuck with me.

Most men at the tables in the high-roller poker rooms at any of the big Vegas casinos are chill, but every once in a while, you get a real asshat who thinks he can push people around. Even if those people are women.

Luckily, no one gives off a dickhead vibe, and I move my focus down to Sophie’s chips.

“Babe,” I whisper into her ear, “I thought you said you were losing. That doesn’t look like losing.”

If my count is correct, she’s up a few hundred from what I handed her this morning before I left to meet with Electric’s investors over breakfast at The Palm.

She just shrugs, and her mischievous body language makes my bullshit detector go ding-ding.

I narrow my eyes at her, and when she shoots an awkward but adorable wink in my direction, I know, without a doubt, something is afoot. I’m not sure what it is, but I’m pretty sure Sophie is up to no good.

More curious than ever now, I press another kiss to her cheek and step back and let her play the cards the dealer just dealt to the table.

Three of the men immediately up the ante, and two of them fold.

When it’s on Sophie to decide, she peeks at her cards once more, and it almost looks like she might throw in the towel, but when she playfully shrugs one shoulder and lets out a little giggle, she ends up matching the bet and hanging in the game for the dealer to show the flop.

Ten of Spades. Two of Hearts. And the Ace of Clubs hit the table.

A guy in a Hawaiian shirt makes the bet a thousand to play.

A man with a big ole white beard and crinkles around his eyes shakes his head, but then, he ends up matching the grand and staying in.

The play is on Sophie again, and she looks around the table, glances at the flop, takes one more peek at her cards, and once she does some kind of visible mental count in her mind, she shoves a thousand bucks worth of chips to the center.

Well, shit. I guess she’s going for it.

A Jack of Clubs hits the turn.

Hawaiian shirt guy makes the wager two grand to stay in this time, apparently a real fan of whatever cards are in his possession.

The old dude with the beard folds straightaway, but I’ll be damned if Sophie doesn’t shove another bunch of chips toward the center to stay in the hand.

Once the dealer is satisfied that everyone is all set, he flips one last card to make the river.

Another Ace. But this time, it’s a Spade.

Hawaiian guy wagers five grand this time, but Sophie? Well, my girl just silently shoves all her damn chips toward the center of the table.

“Wait… Are you all in?” her opponent asks, and Sophie nods.

“I’m all in.”

“Looks like the little lady came to play!” the old guy with the white beard exclaims through a chuckle.

The other men at the table are a combination of amused and outright shocked, and I can’t deny I’m feeling both of those things myself.

But when I step to the side a little to look at Sophie’s face, I can see there’s a change. A certainty lying behind her eyes. A confidence that is undeniable. It reminds me of that night she told that douchebag she was an ex-convict from Bedford Hills.

Wait…she hasn’t been doing what I think she’s been doing, has she?

I furrow my brow and try to make sense of it, but when her opponent eventually calls, everything moves at rapid-fire pace.

He shows his cards—a pair of Queens.

“Queens and Aces. Two pair for the gentleman,” the dealer announces.

“Good hand,” Sophie says, but when she flips over her hand, she adds, “But it looks like mine is better.”

I look down at the spot in front of her, and there sits a pair of Aces.

Did she really just slow-roll these old dudes with a pair of fucking Aces in her hand?

When I check her cards again, a stunned laugh barrels out of my chest.

Holy fucking shit. She just played these men like a fiddle.

My eyes laser in on Sophie again. She just sits there, all fucking smug, and it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“Four of a kind for the lady,” the dealer states, and it takes a lot of effort for him to keep his amusement to just a tiny quirk of his mouth. “The lady wins this round.”

The dude in the Hawaiian shirt just sits there, his mouth gawked open wide.

But the old guy with the beard busts a fucking gut, slapping his leg with each hearty laugh. “Well, hell. Looks like we have a hustler in our midst!”

The three other guys join in on the laughter, but considering he just lost twenty grand in one hand, all the man in the flowery shirt can do is shake his head and mutter, “Fuck me. I just got snowed.”

“Dude, your girlfriend is nothing but trouble,” a guy with a moustache says directly to me, but his voice is purely amused. “She’s been cheating us for the past two hours. Making us think she didn’t know jack shit about cards, but it looks like she knows a hell of a lot more than she was letting on.”

I don’t even bother correcting him on the girlfriend comment because, fuck, I’m too turned on to make sense of anything right now but the fact that I need to get Sophie up to our room to earn another goddamn badge.

Sophie just rakes in all her winnings and flashes a little wink at everyone at the table. “It’s possible that I might know a thing or two.”

The confidence vibrating off her body might as well be a fucking siren’s call for my dick, and the instant she has all her chips stacked up and in order and tells the men goodbye, I practically drag her toward the elevators.

“W-what are you doing?” she asks as I hurriedly shove us inside one of the empty carts. “Jude? Are you okay?”

“Are you kidding me?” I retort just as the doors close shut. “I’m more than okay. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Hell, I’m surprised I didn’t try to fuck you right there on the table.”

Her eyes go wide, but then, something changes inside her. Like a flip of a switch, that confidence of hers is back and flaming, and she’s moving toward me. One shove of her free hand into my chest, she pushes me up against the wall and kisses me with the kind of fierceness that makes my dick twitch beneath my zipper.

Damn, girl.

“I’m ready to earn my next badge,” she says, steps back, sets her chip-holder on the ground, and hits the emergency stop bottom on the elevator so that we’re hovering about ten floors from our suite. “But I want to earn it for your orgasm. When I make you come. With my mouth.”

All I can do is blink.

“Do we have a deal?”

Is she for real? Fuck yeah, we have a deal.

“Babe, I’ll take that deal any-fucking-day of the week.”

“Good.” She grins at me like a little sexy devil.

And then, she doesn’t waste another second of time.

To her knees, Sophie yanks down my pants and briefs, and while her big green eyes look up at me, she sucks my hard cock into her mouth.

Hands down, it is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire thirty-six years of life.

Her devious little tongue circles my tip while her mouth creates the most delectable sucking sensation around my cock, and I just stand there, watching her work me over like the self-assured goddess I always knew she was deep inside.

With each stroking suck of her mouth, the pleasure starts to build, and it doesn’t quit until my breaths come out in harsh pants and my thighs start to burn.

And she keeps going until I come hard. In her pretty mouth.

But I hardly have time to catch my breath before she’s tucking me back into my pants and standing to her feet.

“Looks like you owe this Girl Scout a badge,” she says, pointedly licks her fucking lips, and then hits the button on the elevator to make the cart move again.

Well, fuck. Someone stick a fork in me, because I might be done for when it comes to this woman.

It’s nearing ten in the evening, and Sophie and I decided to stay in the room for the rest of the night. Surely that has everything to do with how damn busy we’ve kept ourselves running around Vegas, fucking like a pair of horny rabbits.

Not to mention, I was up pretty early this morning for my meeting with Billy and the investors. Thankfully, that went as well as I’d hoped, and I’m now officially a consultant for Electric’s team.

The aromas of food waft into my nose as I wheel in a cart full of dinner that a bellhop just dropped off at our door. Everything on it is courtesy of the hotel’s in-room dining menu, and I guide it into the master bedroom, where I find Sophie sitting on the bed in one of the Venetian’s plush cream robes.

I toss the two badges I grabbed from the box on the dining room table onto the bed beside her. One of the badges is a picture of a sunset, and the other is that goddamn unicorn because I’m certain the round of oral she gave me in the elevator is about as close to feeling like a mythical creature who can jump over fucking rainbows as I’ll ever get.

“For your collection,” I tease with a little waggle of my brow. “And dinner is served, madam.” I lift the silver metal covers off the plates. “I hope you’re hungry because I pretty much ordered anything that sounded good.”

“Which is apparently a lot,” she says when she gets a load of all the food on the cart. Burgers, tacos, chicken fried rice, even pancakes and eggs and bacon—I spared no menu item that looked like a good possibility.

I wink at her. “I guess you could say all your badge-earning has worked up an appetite.”

“Tell me we’re going to eat all of that in this bed, and I will let you steal another pair of my panties.”

“I’ll take that deal, babe. And I choose those sexy pink ones you were wearing last night.”

A shocked giggle vibrates her throat. “You mean, the ones you tore in half?”

“Exactly those ones.”

“Jude, do you think that maybe you should seek therapy for this panty addiction you’re developing?”

I smirk. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because a lot of people would possibly think you’re deranged.”

“But do you think I’m deranged?”

“I think I should think you’re deranged, but…” She pauses and then snorts. “I’m probably far too biased because every time you steal my panties, I end up with orgasms. So…” She shrugs. “I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

I chuckle at that.

“But don’t worry, your pervy secrets are safe with me.”

Before Sophie, I’ve never had the urge to steal someone’s underwear. It never even occurred to me, if I’m being honest. But fuck, I’ve never been one to be embarrassed by what turns me or someone else on. And I have to say, knowing I have a secret stash of Sophie’s panties in my bedroom drawer is a fucking turn-on.

It’s also hot as hell when I get to witness her reaction when I shove them in my pocket. A combination of blushing and panting and hooded eyes that are just begging me to do dirty, pleasurable things to her. And, well, a man can only be so strong while looking into Sophie Sage’s heated emerald gaze.

Eventually, I start the process of setting up our dinner display. Once I cover the bed with one of the large bathroom towels, I set out two forks and a few of the plates.

Sophie makes it very apparent that pancakes covered with whipped cream and strawberries are her top choice. I know this, because she grabs the plate with two greedy hands and moves it to her lap.

“Not sharing that one, eh?” I question as I sit on the bed beside her, my body only clothed in a pair of black boxer briefs.

“Nope.” She shakes her head and laughs around her first bite.

I waver between the burger and tacos for a good ten seconds, but eventually, the tacos win out. One crunchy bite in and I nod. “Oh yeah, these are good.”

“The decision to eat room service in bed is one of the best decisions I’ve ever forced you to make,” she states around another bite of pancakes.

“Not nearly as good as what went down in the elevator earlier, but it’s up there.”

She blushes and grins, and just when I’m about to start waxing poetic about her mouth’s superior oral skills, my phone chimes loudly with a text message from the bedside table. I snag it off and see a message from the last person I’d ever expect.

Someone I haven’t heard from in forever.

Kyle: Do you know any good lawyers in Cuba? Currently in a bit of a pickle.

I laugh. Outright.

“What is it?” Sophie asks, and I turn the screen of my phone to let her read the text. Instantly, her eyes go wide. “Uh…that doesn’t sound good…”

“Yeah, it doesn’t,” I agree. “But that’s how shit always is with Kyle.”

“Is he a friend of yours?”

“Well, it’s been years since I’ve talked to him, but yeah, growing up, we were pretty close as teenagers. Although, all three of my brothers hated him.”

She quirks a curious brow. “It sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

“Kyle was known for trouble,” I elaborate. “When I was seventeen, the FBI came to my door looking for him. Not even kidding. All because he stabbed himself with a K bar knife while playing ‘Commando Games’ in Central Park.”

Her face pinches into disbelief. “That doesn’t sound real.”

“Oh, but it is. And that incident was pretty much the last straw for his dad. Right after that, he shipped Kyle off to military school. We kept in touch here and there, but I swear, it’s been, like, thirteen years since I last talked to him.”

“So…are you going to respond?”

I nod and quickly type out a message. Once I hit send, I turn the phone so she can read it.

Me: Dude, the only things I know about Cuba I learned from the movie Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. I don’t think that’s the kind of expertise you need.

Sophie covers her mouth to laugh at my cinematic tastes, and I roll my eyes, saying simply, “My sister.” And Kyle responds while both Sophie and I are looking at the screen.

Kyle: Ah, hell. Thanks anyway. Hope you’re good, man!

“That’s it?” she questions with an incredulous gawk to her mouth. “No explanation. No nothing?”

“Yep. That’s Kyle. The most random motherfucker you’ll ever meet.”

“This might be irrational, but I feel kind of angry that I have no idea what’s happening with him in Cuba,” she comments. “I guess I’m starting to understand why your brothers hated him.”

“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Remy, my oldest brother, hated him the most.”

“What are your other brothers’ names?”

“Well, actually, I have three brothers and one sister,” I expand. “Winnie is the youngest out of all of us Winslows. Then there’s me. Then there’s Ty. Then Flynn. And Remy.”

“That’s quite the brood,” she comments. “I have fewer siblings than you. Only two sisters for me.”

“Clearly, I remember Belle,” I tell her with a grin. “Kind of hard to forget all that confusion.”

She snorts. “Yep. Belle, my twin, and then Katelynn. She’s the oldest.”

For some strange reason, I find myself asking her more questions about her family. “So, are both your parents in the picture?”

She nods. “My mom and dad have been married since before Katelynn was born, and they’re now happily living the retiree life in Miami. What about you?”

“Dad left when we were young. My mom is very much present. Strongest woman I know. I also have my uncle Brad and aunt Paula, who have always been like second parents to us.”

“Damn, your dad left your mom with all those kids?”

I couldn’t agree more. “Talk about a real bastard, huh?”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” She reaches out and places a gentle hand on my thigh, but even though it feels nice to have someone be that kind, my inclination to brush it off is strong.

“Thanks, babe. But there’s no need for sadness or sympathy on my behalf. If anyone deserves that, it’s my dad. I think we can both agree it was truly his loss leaving us all.”

“I don’t know your siblings, but if they’re anything like you, I can’t even imagine being able to walk away.” Her smile is soft and caring, and all of a sudden, my heart gets all twitchy inside my chest.

Fuck, that’s weird. Maybe I should get that checked out when I get back to New York?

Or maybe you should realize that it’s not your heart, but what this woman is doing to your heart…

I shake off that ridiculous idea, but I don’t hesitate to answer Sophie’s next question about if any of my siblings are married or have kids.

“Only Winnie. And my niece Lexi is the coolest kid you’ll ever meet.”

“Both of my sisters are married. And Katelynn has two little boys, Ben and Alex. They’re two and three and keep her on her toes,” she says with a warm smile, but then she furrows her brow a little. “So…wait…none of your brothers are married?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “To my baby sister’s dismay. Ty is always bringing random women to family events, but that’s about as close as any of us get to settling down,” I answer honestly, but then I remember one very poignant moment in our past. “Although, Remy was engaged once, but that ended pretty terribly.”

“Terribly?”

“He got left at the altar.”

Her head jerks back. “No shit?”

“It was a rough time.”

“Damn,” she mutters to herself more than me. “That’s horrible.”

“That, it was,” I say, and suddenly, I have the urge to direct us toward a less heavy subject. “But don’t fret over it, babe. It’s in the past. And right now, we’re in the present, and I’m sitting here realizing that you’re eating pancakes with a bare pussy beneath that robe. Which, I have to say, is quite an interesting situation we have on our hands.”

She quirks a brow. “What are you getting at?”

“How you’re going to earn that next badge.”

“Okayyyy…”

“And I’m pretty sure it starts with seeing how long you can sit there and eat those pancakes while I’m licking your pussy.”

She just stares at me. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but baby, I would, and I will.”

Giggles jump from her throat as she tries to juggle her plate of pancakes in one hand and scoot her body away from me with the other.

But I’m quicker.

And the instant my head is beneath her robe and my tongue gets a taste of her sweet pussy, I actually hear Sophie’s plate hit the floor. Surely that’s a fucking mess. But right now, who the hell cares?

Sophie’s got a badge to earn, and I’ve got a delicious pussy to feast on.

Sounds like Vegas luck is on my side.