Power Play: Jodie and the Billionaire (4 page)

“Some
prince who lives in Germany.” Kimber waved her question away. “I only paid
attention to the ones who I had a shot with.”

“Right,
like you had a shot with Dorian Cole?” Lauren interrupted. Kimber stuck her
tongue out at her.

“What
does he do?” Lauren asked, leaning in, eyes bright. She was the only one who
knew that Jodie and Jason weren’t an item anymore. The only one who knew that
Jodie and this very rich billionaire had unexpectedly shared a very intimate
moment recently.

“He’s
some sort of entrepreneur. He invests in inventions I think.”

“Well
he sure seems to like Jodie,” Lauren remarked.

“He’s
a player.” Kimber slanted her eyes, glancing back at him. “You better be
careful. I don’t want to have to explain anything to Jason when we get home!”

“You
won’t have to.” Jodie stood up straighter as the stick man called for last
bets. “Jason cheated on me. We broke up.”

“What?”
Kimber gaped at her but couldn’t ask any more because Dorian Cole had returned
to the table, phone back in his pocket, making another bet on the “pass” line
as the stick man slid the dice toward Jodie.

“Come
out roll!” The stickman was careful to push them close this time and Jodie
picked them up. Looking at that forty-five thousand dollars on the line made
her sweat. She thought,
please, please, please,
seven or eleven
and
threw the dice, holding her breath.

“Easy
six,” the stickman announced, corralling the dice. “Mark the six.”

“Well
we didn’t win.” She frowned, watching as the “off” marker get flipped over by the
stick man to “on” and then placed on the six.

“You
didn’t lose,” Dorian explained. “Now you just want to roll a six before you
roll a seven.”

“I
think I’m getting the hang of this.” She smiled at him as more people joined
the table, placing more bets.

“You
want to make another sucker bet with that, Miss Lucky?” He nodded at the
thousand dollar chip sitting on the pass line.

“I’m
lucky at dice but…” She shook her head. “Not
that
lucky. It’s Jodie, by
the way. Jodie Miller.”

“Dorian
Cole.”

“Dice
are in play.” The stick man slid them all the way down for Jodie.

She
looked around the table, feeling the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her. It was
disconcerting to say the least. And that forty-five thousand dollars sitting
there? It made her sick to her stomach thinking about losing it, even if it
wasn’t hers.

“Shooter’s
still looking for a six!”

Taking
a deep breath, she picked up the dice and thought
six, six, six.
She
could see it in her mind, three pretty dots making diagonal lines across each
die. Her fingertips tingled as she let the dice go, heart caught in her throat.
The dice were so far away she couldn’t see what came up and had to wait for the
reaction of the crowd or the stickman’s announcement.

“Four
easy.” The stickman pulled the dice in. “An eighter from Decatur.”

It
was like listening to a foreign language that Jodie, somehow, was beginning to
understand.

“So
nothing happens?” she asked, watching everyone placing more chips on the table.

“Not
for us,” said Dorian. “You’re still rolling for a six.”

The
excitement had the table absolutely buzzing. People were smiling and
happy—winning. Their enthusiasm was catching. She tried not to put too
much pressure on herself but somehow she felt responsible because she was the
one who had the dice in her hands. It was ridiculous, of course. It was all
mathematical odds, right? There was no such thing as luck, not really.

“Jodie!”
Kimber nudged her from the other side, all wide-eyes. “What is going on?”

She’d
almost forgotten about the girls. They were all staring, whatever bets they’d
placed completely forgotten. The excitement of Dorian Cole at the table, paying
close attention to one of their own, had completely trumped gambling.

“Apparently,
I’m shooting craps.” Jodie laughed, realizing she hadn’t even thought about
Jason, or her constantly vibrating phone, in almost half an hour. That had to
be a record.

“Quite
well, in fact,” Dorian added. His hand moved to her lower back again, shifting
her closer, and she let him. It felt incredible to have a man—a very
handsome, very rich man—flirting with her, clearly attracted to her,
especially in front of all of these rich, snobby women. Well except Lauren,
and, she supposed, Kimber.

“You
ready to roll that six?” He moved her hair aside to ask her, close to her ear,
and she shivered. “If you do, you’ll double that forty-five thousand.”

“No
pressure.” She shifted nervously, hearing the stickman calling for last bets.

“Don’t
worry. I can afford to lose it.” He chuckled, his breath warm.

“That
doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Nervous?”
he asked, pressing her against the table with his body.

She
nodded, swallowing as she glanced around, everyone’s gaze turning toward her as
the dice started making their way down the table, guided by the curved stick.

“Excited?”
he whispered, his thigh between hers. Oh God, the feel of him, the heat of his
words, the memory of his mouth, soft and wet and open on hers. What in the hell
was happening?

She
nodded and gave a little whimper, trying to concentrate. She was standing at a
craps table in the middle of Caesar’s Palace and this man was practically
bending her over the table in front of everyone. A slow flush heated her cheeks
at the thought. Her nipples were so hard they hurt and she noticed the stickman
noticing as he deposited the dice in front of her.

“Does
it make you wet?” Dorian whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear,
making her close her eyes with a silent plea for strength. She thought her
knees were actually going to give out and was grateful for the weight of him
behind her, pressing her flush against the table.

“Yes,”
she admitted, lips barely moving as she opened her eyes with a shuddery breath,
blinking at the bright green felt on the table. He was right there, hands on
either side of the table beside her, body snugged tight to hers, his mouth
against her ear.

“Win,”
he whispered.

“Dice
back in play!” The stickman announced as Jodie reached for the dice in a
trance. She wasn’t thinking about anything except Dorian when she
rolled—his hands, his mouth, the hard press of his cock against the curve
of her ass. Just his trousers and the thin material of her dress separated
them, and everyone—
everyone
—was watching.

“Ten
easy! Big Dick!” The stickman shouted, making Jodie’s whole body flush with
heat. She expected Dorian to say something, like he had about the stickman
“short sticking” her, but he didn’t.

“The
six and the four,” Dorian murmured, chuckling. “They call it the ‘big dick.’”

How
fitting
, she thought, all too aware of the man’s throbbing erection against
her ass. She thought his kiss had been a surprise, making her instantly wet,
but this was something else altogether. Her pussy wasn’t just wet, it was
aching, pure torture between her thighs. It was overwhelming. It made her want
him to fuck her. Right there. In front of everyone. Somehow the audience made
the whole fantasy even hotter.

“What’s
that ‘come’ all about?” Jodie asked, watching people put more chips on the
green felt in the section marked “come.”

“If
you’re a good girl, I’ll teach you about that later,” he replied, shifting his
weight. It was a casual thing, but it made his cock rub against her ass. A
little shiver went through her as she imagined him inside of her, impaling her,
inch by glorious inch. She could imagine the already-shocked bridesmaids
watching in horror and dismay as Dorian Cole bent her over, shoved up her
skirt, yanked her panties aside, and just took her.

“Now
win for me,” Dorian whispered, his breath coming almost as fast as hers as the
stickman called for last bets and slid the dice their way. No one could hear
them over the crowd they’d drawn. It felt like the whole casino had surrounded
the table to watch.

His
words thrilled her. Jodie picked up the dice, everything tingling, from the
tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. She looked at the dice in her hand
and asked them in her mind for a six. A pretty six, any way they
wanted—two threes; or a one and a five; or a two and a four—it
didn’t matter. As long as the numbers added up to six, she’d be happy. The
whole table would be happy. Dorian would be happy.

“Six
easy, pay the line! Pay the line!” The stickman announced and the place erupted
like they were at a concert and the main act had just taken the stage.

“We
won!” Kimber screamed, turning to Jodie and kissing her cheek. “Oh my fucking
god, you lucky little dice whore, we won!”

Jodie
couldn’t help laughing as the girls all hugged, jumping around. People around
the table smiled, high-fiving. Behind her, the man who had made her wet made her
even wetter by grabbing her around the waist, burying his face in her neck and
breathing deep.

“You
lucky little dice whore,” he whispered, kissing her neck, the words sounding
completely different out of his mouth than they had coming out of Kimber’s.

“Your
winnings, sir.” The dealer nodded toward the equal stack of five-thousand
dollar chips he’d put on the table next to the first. Jodie felt faint
realizing they represented ninety-thousand dollars, all put together.

“Parlay.”
Dorian didn’t take his nose out of Jodie’s neck, where he was making her cotton
panties so wet it was shameful. “We’re still going.”

“I’m
sorry sir.” The dealer shook his bald head, pushing the chips off the pass line
toward him. “There’s a fifty-thousand max on the pass line.”

“You
won’t let it ride?” Dorian’s head came up and Jodie shivered at the tone of his
voice. He didn’t sound happy at that—not at all.

“Let
me make a call.” The dealer reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell
phone. They watched him make the call as the stickman called for people to
place their bets. She couldn’t believe it was still her—she was still
rolling. How long had it been?

“Sir,
this is…” The dealer got quiet, listening, glancing up toward the ceiling.
Jodie followed his line of sight and realized he was looking at a camera. Of
course, they were all over the casino. “Ninety thousand… That’s right… Yes,
sir.”

“We’ll
let it ride, Mr. Cole,” the dealer said with a smile, sliding the chips all
back onto the pass line. Just that action made Jodie feel a little ill. “Ninety
on the pass.”

“Holy
fuck,” Kimber whispered beside her. “Jodie, if you crap out…”

“Shut
up.” Jodie nudged her, throwing her a withering glance. “Don’t you dare jinx
me!”

But
there was no such thing as luck, right? It was all math—statistics. So
what were the chances that she could keep rolling and winning? The casino would
know the odds.

Oh
my God, that’s why they let him make the bet. They knew he was going to lose!

“Dorian…”
It was the first time she’d said his name out loud and it felt good, right, in
her mouth. “Maybe you shouldn’t…”

“Let’s
ride it out.” He shifted against her, so damned hard she actually made a little
noise in her throat at the feel of him. “Isn’t it exciting?”

Nodding,
she had to admit, it was. In so very many ways.

“Seven
or eleven,” he reminded her softly once bets were placed and the dice were
pushed their way, but she knew.

She
was already telling the dice what she wanted them to do in her head as she
picked them up off the felt in one hand. She saw several people were betting
against her. It wasn’t just possible that she would throw craps—it had to
be more than a probability.
Ninety thousand dollars.
That much money
could have paid her college loans with enough left over to buy a small house.

“Win,
Jodie.”

Oh
my God, her name, he said her name and it moved over her like a caress. She
took a breath, closed her eyes, and threw the dice. She imagined them bouncing
off the “rubber alligator,” as the stickman had described the corrugated rubber
backing on each end of the table, bouncing, landing…

“YO!
Eleven!”

Kimber
screamed so loud beside her Jodie thought she might have actually gone deaf in
her right ear for a minute. The girls jumped up and down like little kids and
everyone surrounding the table cheered. The only people who grumbled were the
people who had bet against her. Dorian laughed, turning her in his arms and
planting a very big kiss on her lips in the excitement.

She
broke it off quickly, too afraid of what Kimber and the triplets would say, but
the memory of his mouth swept through her instantly, turning her legs to Jell-O
and her nipples to glass, and she wanted more.
More, more, more.

“Can
you do it again?” His eyes brightened.

She
laughed. “I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Can’t
let that ride, sir,” the dealer informed him. He was already on the phone and
he didn’t look happy.

“Well
I can’t bet against you.” Dorian gathered his chips, once again doubled in
size. “You want me to sit this one out?”

“Yeah.”
Jodie nodded, frowning at the table. “I just have a bad feeling…”

Kimber
overheard, leaning over to tell Lauren and the rest of the girls.

“Well
your instincts have been right so far.” Dorian took seven of his chips and put
them in the “don’t pass” field.

“Betting
against the shooter?” The stickman raised his bushy eyebrows, so thick they
almost matched his mustache, but the dealer placed the bet.

“I’ll
sit this one out,” Kimber said, counting up the chips sitting in her rack in
front of her. All of the girls had made a ton of money but they were following
Kimber’s lead, holding back from placing any more bets.