toward the elevator
but out in the casino, somebody cheered at the clink of coins pouring from a
slot machine.
“Hey,” Melanie said, interrupting Brooke’s lecture on the
topic of women deciding their own fate. “I’m going to go. I’ll call you
tomorrow.”
Before Brooke could object, she ended the call and turned
off her phone with a sigh. The casino beckoned, promising an opportunity to
wander aimlessly, too stimulated by lights and sound to have mental space for
thinking about Sam. Swinging her strappy heels in one hand, she ducked into the
hotel lounge for a drink and caught sight of the very same person she wanted to
avoid.
Sam was so many things she hadn’t found with her high school
and college romances. Intrigued by the possibilities, intrigued by him ,
she wanted him like she’d never wanted anybody else. She wanted to know him.
Even though she knew Brooke’s suggestion was a bad one,
Melanie paid for her margarita and circled around to approach Sam from behind.
He sat at a poker table with a pair of jacks, a pair of sevens and an ace in
one hand and a drink in the other hand. When she reached him, she dropped her
shoes on the floor and slid her arm around his waist. Sam tensed and turned his
head to see her but he didn’t move away. Instead, he looked back to his cards.
“That’s impressive,” she said, resting her chin on his
shoulder and her hand on his fly. His cock started to thicken and swell, which
she encouraged with a little squeeze. Her pussy softened in response to the
memory of him taking her, big and deliberate between her legs.
Melanie rubbed her face against the side of his neck and breathed
in his spicy scent. “Your pile of chips, I mean. What’re you going to do with
it if you win?”
“Hire a nanny to keep you out of trouble.” He repositioned
her fingers to his belt and pushed a stack of plastic chips to the center of
the table. “Douglass can’t keep you in line either?”
“I didn’t offer him any authority over me. Why aren’t you
married?” She ignored his belt and drew her fingernails along the line of his
growing erection, enjoying his obvious discomfort and equally obvious physical
response to her undisguised flirtation. And just because she enjoyed poking the
tiger with a stick, she added, “You’re getting up there in years.”
He discarded his ace and collected another card from the
dealer. “Are you calling me old, little girl?”
She shrugged and wiggled her hand deeper between his legs to
cup his testicles. “I’m not a little girl. And you, well. You’re on David’s
guest list. He’s not exactly college frat boy age anymore.”
The dealer cleared his throat.
“Quiet,” Sam said to her. But he didn’t move her hand this
time.
Quiet meant quiet er , right? While Sam did what he
needed to do with his hand of cards, she gathered all her courage and whispered
in his ear, “I want you to dominate me again. Tell me more about your dungeon.
Let me see it when we get back to New York.”
His abs tensed hard beneath her arm and his cock jumped
against her palm.
“You don’t know what you want,” he replied, too low for
anybody but her to hear. “You prove that to me over and over again.”
“I do know. I want you. I want to submit to you. You’re the
one who devalues my decision by refusing to acknowledge it as legitimate.”
“Fold.” Sam put his cards down on the table, pocketed his
remaining chips and pulled her off him. Turning on the stool, he met her eyes.
“I’m thirty-six. You’re what, seven? You’re a little girl.”
“Hmm. Well, you were checking out my tits down by the pool
yesterday. And the day before that you had your dick in my—”
“Melanie,” he warned.
“Well, you did. Does that make you a pedophile?” Flashing
another smile, she tilted her head in the direction of the crowded bar. “And
does that mean you’re going to call the cops on the guy who made my margarita a
double?”
“No cops,” Sam
but out in the casino, somebody cheered at the clink of coins pouring from a
slot machine.
“Hey,” Melanie said, interrupting Brooke’s lecture on the
topic of women deciding their own fate. “I’m going to go. I’ll call you
tomorrow.”
Before Brooke could object, she ended the call and turned
off her phone with a sigh. The casino beckoned, promising an opportunity to
wander aimlessly, too stimulated by lights and sound to have mental space for
thinking about Sam. Swinging her strappy heels in one hand, she ducked into the
hotel lounge for a drink and caught sight of the very same person she wanted to
avoid.
Sam was so many things she hadn’t found with her high school
and college romances. Intrigued by the possibilities, intrigued by him ,
she wanted him like she’d never wanted anybody else. She wanted to know him.
Even though she knew Brooke’s suggestion was a bad one,
Melanie paid for her margarita and circled around to approach Sam from behind.
He sat at a poker table with a pair of jacks, a pair of sevens and an ace in
one hand and a drink in the other hand. When she reached him, she dropped her
shoes on the floor and slid her arm around his waist. Sam tensed and turned his
head to see her but he didn’t move away. Instead, he looked back to his cards.
“That’s impressive,” she said, resting her chin on his
shoulder and her hand on his fly. His cock started to thicken and swell, which
she encouraged with a little squeeze. Her pussy softened in response to the
memory of him taking her, big and deliberate between her legs.
Melanie rubbed her face against the side of his neck and breathed
in his spicy scent. “Your pile of chips, I mean. What’re you going to do with
it if you win?”
“Hire a nanny to keep you out of trouble.” He repositioned
her fingers to his belt and pushed a stack of plastic chips to the center of
the table. “Douglass can’t keep you in line either?”
“I didn’t offer him any authority over me. Why aren’t you
married?” She ignored his belt and drew her fingernails along the line of his
growing erection, enjoying his obvious discomfort and equally obvious physical
response to her undisguised flirtation. And just because she enjoyed poking the
tiger with a stick, she added, “You’re getting up there in years.”
He discarded his ace and collected another card from the
dealer. “Are you calling me old, little girl?”
She shrugged and wiggled her hand deeper between his legs to
cup his testicles. “I’m not a little girl. And you, well. You’re on David’s
guest list. He’s not exactly college frat boy age anymore.”
The dealer cleared his throat.
“Quiet,” Sam said to her. But he didn’t move her hand this
time.
Quiet meant quiet er , right? While Sam did what he
needed to do with his hand of cards, she gathered all her courage and whispered
in his ear, “I want you to dominate me again. Tell me more about your dungeon.
Let me see it when we get back to New York.”
His abs tensed hard beneath her arm and his cock jumped
against her palm.
“You don’t know what you want,” he replied, too low for
anybody but her to hear. “You prove that to me over and over again.”
“I do know. I want you. I want to submit to you. You’re the
one who devalues my decision by refusing to acknowledge it as legitimate.”
“Fold.” Sam put his cards down on the table, pocketed his
remaining chips and pulled her off him. Turning on the stool, he met her eyes.
“I’m thirty-six. You’re what, seven? You’re a little girl.”
“Hmm. Well, you were checking out my tits down by the pool
yesterday. And the day before that you had your dick in my—”
“Melanie,” he warned.
“Well, you did. Does that make you a pedophile?” Flashing
another smile, she tilted her head in the direction of the crowded bar. “And
does that mean you’re going to call the cops on the guy who made my margarita a
double?”
“No cops,” Sam
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