Power Play: Jodie and the Billionaire (5 page)

“Want
to make a little side wager?” He waggled his eyebrows at Jodie when she turned
her head to look at him. His arms around her waist felt perfectly comfortable
now. “Make it even more exciting?”

“What
kind of wager?”

“How
about…” He slid his hands over her hips, smiling slyly. “If you crap out, you
take another selfie with me. My choice of time and place.”

She
looked at him, considering. “And if I don’t crap out?”

“You
keep that.” He nodded at the pile of chips—minus his thirty-five thousand
dollar bet on craps—still sitting on the table.

“Oh
no. No way.” She felt the blood drain from her face at the thought of that kind
of money. “I can’t take that.”

“Why
not? You earned it, shooter.” He laughed. “Besides, if you’re right and you
crap out, you won’t have to take it.”

Jodie
blinked at the pile of chips and tried to imagine how her life would change if
she had that kind of money. And then she remembered that incredible kiss, his hands
on her ass, mouth slanting across hers, and the heat that flooded her at the
memory was enough to turn her cheeks rosy. She turned away from Dorian, not
wanting him to see her flushed face, watching chips being tossed everywhere on
the table. Word had spread about the lucky shooter.

Before
she knew it, the dice were back in front of her again and she picked them up in
one hand, not sure what she should ask for. If she threw a seven or eleven,
Dorian would insist on giving her the money he’d made on her rolls. If she
crapped out, he’d double his thirty-five thousand dollar bet on the
table—and he’d win a selfie of the two of them, taken whenever, wherever
he wanted.

She
tingled all over at that, wondering what he was up to—but she knew the
general direction he was going, considering the way he pulled her into the
saddle of his hips as they stood at the table, two puzzle pieces, almost but
not quite fitting together. Just a little nudge, and then…

“What
do you want me to roll?” she glanced back at him, feeling the eyes of everyone
at the table trained on her. The casino was still loud, lively, but the table
was quiet, waiting for her.

“I
want
you.
” His whispered words made her breath catch in her throat, his
fingers digging into her hipbones. “And I intend to have you—no matter
what you roll.”

She
threw the dice, not caring what they came up, knowing that either way, she won.
Turning, she snaked her arms around his neck before pressing her lips to his.
She wanted him to know—she wanted him too. There was nothing else in the
world she wanted more, nothing else she could think about. It could have been
all the drinks, or the excitement of rolling the dice, winning all that money,
but it wasn’t any of that. This man, this Dorian Cole, wanted her—
her,
Jodie Miller. She was desirable, wanted. After everything that had happened
over the past week, that was enough.

The
moment their mouths met, she was lost again, just like she had been before.
Jodie moaned as his tongue touched hers, not gentle but insistent, mimicking
the motion she knew he wanted to be making between her legs, a hot, desperate
rut. His hands moved from her lower back to her hips, stilling her tiny thrusts
as he broke their kiss. She looked at him, breathless, her chest heaving.

“Snake
eyes!” the stickman called out. She heard the hint of relief in his voice, and
the way he tried to cover that up.

“I’m
so glad I didn’t bet!” Kimber exclaimed.

Jodie
came back slowly, leaning against Dorian as he collected his seventy-thousand
dollars in chips. She’d crapped out. Her run as the shooter was over. She’d
disappointed them all. But none of that mattered, because she’d won. She’d won
the most important thing, the thing she’d wanted most. And it had taken the
roll of the dice to make her realize what it was she really wanted.

“Forty
minutes of rolling without a devil, sweetheart.” The stickman dropped her a
wink. “That was a hell of a run.”

Dorian
cashed out, tipping the dealers, and Kimber yanked Jodie’s arm, pulling her
aside. She barely had enough time to grab her little clutch off the ledge. At
the table, the game continued on, a new shooter taking up the dice at the other
end.

“What
the hell, Jodie?” Kimber tried to drag her away, the triplets and Lauren
surrounding her. “You broke up with Jason? Why didn’t you tell me? What’s going
on?”

“I—”
Jodie wobbled in Kimber’s too-tight heels, realizing for the first time in
almost an hour how much her feet hurt. It was too much to try to explain right
there in the middle of the casino floor. Although, it wasn’t, not really. Jason
had cheated—had continued to lie and cheat, in spite of his regretful
pleas—and she’d broken up with him. It wasn’t complicated. It was
actually very simple. Painfully, horribly simple.

“You’re
drunk.” Kimber announced, shaking her head, trying unsuccessfully to pull her
away, but Jodie wasn’t budging. “You can’t go with him, you know.”

“It’s
not a good idea,” Lauren said. The triplet girls agreed, pestering Jodie about
how unsafe, how crazy, how insane it was to consider—well, whatever she
was considering.

“Ladies.”
Dorian Cole interrupted their little hen pecking with a smile and an arm around
Jodie’s shoulders. He looked down at her. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”
She nodded, looking back at Kimber. “You guys, I… I’ll call you.”

She
realized she had no idea where they were going—although she had some
vague idea and hoped it would involve a bed.

“Jodie…”
Kimber frowned, her hand still on Jodie’s arm, but she was looking at Dorian.

“It’s
okay, Kimber,” Lauren intervened. “Jodie’s a big girl. I’m sure she can handle
herself.”

Kimber
still looked doubtful but let go. Jodie gave Lauren a thank-you smile,
mouthing, ‘Owe you one!’ She knew that would probably involve reading Lauren’s
book but hey, she could live with that. And who knew? Maybe her current run of
luck would hold out and she’d discover the next new writer phenom. That was
always the best part of her job, after all.

“I
promise, she’ll be safe with me.” Dorian gave Kimber a reassuring smile,
guiding Jodie away from the gaggle of girls. She followed willingly, waving
over her shoulder at them. She felt a little bad, leaving Kimber on their last
night of her bachelorette party—but she had a feeling Kimber would
understand, given the circumstances.

“Do
you have to cash in your chips?” she asked, trying to keep up with his long
stride.

“Nah,
I’m good. I’ve got a player’s card.” They walked out of the casino into the
foyer, past the shops with the huge Roman statue fountain in the center. “They
wanted to comp me but I’m staying at the Palms.”

“Is
that where we’re going?” she asked as they stepped out into the night air. It
was nice, cool but not cold.

Dorian
smiled, handing a ticket to the valet before turning and taking her into his
arms.

“I
need to get you somewhere private,” he murmured into her hair, nuzzling her
neck, hands roaming over the curves barely concealed by her dress. Well, Lauren’s
dress. She had a feeling that fifteen hundred dollar piece of material was
going to be on the floor of Dorian Cole’s hotel room before she knew it. And
Jodie was so titillated by that prospect she was shaking.

“Cold?”
He pulled her closer still, kissing her neck, her collarbone, breathing in her
scent.

Jodie
heard his car before she saw it, but his mouth had found hers and she was lost
again.

“Sir?”

Dorian
broke the kiss, grabbing the keys from the valet. “Get in.”

Jodie
gaped as the valet held the door open to Batman’s car. She got into the matte
black Bugatti, a little two-seater, beside Dorian and the valet closed the door
behind her. The interior was black too, reinforcing the feeling that she was
riding with Batman—and when she looked over at his profile as he popped
the clutch and shifted into gear, she actually wondered for a moment who he was
and what, exactly, she was doing.

Then
her phone vibrated in her purse.

“Put
your seatbelt on,” he said, glancing over to see her pulling her phone out of
her clutch.

Jodie
did as he asked, gasping as the car came to life, hugging the curved entryway
of Caesar’s Palace as he zipped around the stopped traffic.

“Is
that him?” Dorian took the corner, shifting into the straightaway like he was
planning to fly.

“Yeah.”
Jodie saw text message after text message from Jason, and four voice messages,
all of which she must have missed while they were playing craps.

WTF
Jodie? Who the hell is that?

He
must have received the picture she sent of her and Dorian. She didn’t even want
to check her messages. But she did click over to Facebook and when she tried to
log in, he’d changed the password. Of course he had—he had plenty to
hide. Probably more half-nude pictures of
Nicole.

Asshole.

“Stop.”
Dorian’s hand massaged her shoulder, her bare neck, under her hair. “Look at
me.”

Jodie
dropped her phone into her clutch, zipping it back up and looked over at him,
trying not to cry. It was stupid, crying over Jason, considering everything she
knew—all the pictures, all the texts, all the Facebook messages and, of
course, the flight he’d taken to Missouri for the “funeral of an old friend”
that had actually been Jason’s weekend fuckfest with
Nicole.

“I’m
going to make you forget he ever existed.” His eyes darkened as he looked at
her, gaze dropping from her cleavage to her hemline. “He made the biggest
mistake of his life when he cheated on a woman like you.”

The
way he looked at her, talked to her, made her feel desired and wanted in a way
she hadn’t felt in—my God, years! And she realized it was something she
was craving, and maybe Dorian Cole was taking advantage of that, but she really
didn’t care. She wanted to get lost in him again. She needed it more than she
could possibly say, and he seemed to know it.

“You
already have.” Jodie crossed one leg over the other—her feet were
throbbing in Kimber’s too-small shoes—and saw his gaze skip down to the
hemline of her dress, riding high up on her thigh.

“I
haven’t even started.” Dorian shifted the car into higher gear as they turned
the corner again onto another straight away, this one with hardly any traffic.
They were moving very fast—Jodie didn’t even want to see the speedometer.

His
hand moved from the gearshift to her knee. Jodie shifted in the little
seat—there wasn’t a lot of room—turning her body toward him. She
saw him smile, a slow, sexy smile that spread as he slid his hand up her bare
thigh, pushing the dress almost all the way up.

“You’re
so fucking beautiful.”

“It’s
the dress.” Jodie squirmed in her seat. His hand was hot, burning her thigh,
but he didn’t move it any higher, and she really kind of wanted him to. Her
pussy was throbbing, panties shamefully wet. “Versace. Fifteen hundred dollars.
And it’s not even mine.”

“It’s
not the dress.” He pulled the Bugatti into the Palms, getting out and handing
the valet the keys.

This
time it was Dorian who opened her door and gave her a hand out. She followed
him into the hotel, which was far more opulent and much less pretentious than
Caesar’s.

“So
you’re in Vegas for a bachelorette party.” He led her through the lobby, around
the corner to an elevator, but there was no button to push on it.

“Yeah.
That, and I’m supposed to be on Pawn Stars tomorrow—you know that show?”

“What
are you selling?” He raised his eyebrows, pulling out his wallet.

“Don
Quixote. First edition. I found it in my grandmother’s stuff.”

“That’s
worth quite a chunk of change.” He gave a low whistle as he ran a card through
a reader on the elevator. It opened immediately.

“You
know books?” She blinked in surprise as they got in. “A private elevator?”

“I
know rare and precious things,” he countered, grabbing her hips and pulling her
slowly toward him. “Have you ever been fucked in an elevator?”

“No.”
She shook her head, putting her arms around his neck. His hair was
irresistible. It curled around her fingers at the nape of his neck. “Do you
recommend it?”

“Well,
it
is
a private elevator…”

The
elevator stopped, the doors opening, and Jodie nearly screamed when a man
dressed in a tuxedo met them as they stepped out. Instead, she grabbed Dorian’s
arm, stepping toward him so they were hip to hip. He slid an arm around her
waist.

“Good
evening, sir.” The tuxedoed man actually gave a little bow. “Can I take your
coat?”

Oh
my God, he
was
Batman. He even had an Alfred! Although this Alfred
wasn’t an old man—he was young, probably her age.

“Hey
Andrew.” Dorian shrugged off his suit coat and handed it over. Okay, Andrew,
not Alfred. But still! “You can have the night off. But first—how about
some food?”

He
turned to Jodie, eyes questioning. She nodded enthusiastically. She hadn’t
eaten since the dinner buffet and, at the time, she hadn’t been very hungry.
But now she was ravenous.

“What
do you want? Steak? Burger? Tofu?” Dorian asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

“No
tofu.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste, asking Andrew, “Do you have waffles?”

He
nodded. “Best chicken and waffles in the state.”

“Oh
that sounds awesome!” Now her mouth was watering. “And cupcakes. Do you have
cupcakes?”

“Yes
we do,” Andrew said.

“Bring
me a steak.” Dorian loosened his tie. “And some of that lemon cake from the
other night.”

“Yes,
sir,” Andrew replied. “Anything else?”

“A
bottle of champagne,” Dorian added, watching Jodie as she started wandering
through the room—which wasn’t so much of a room, or even as suite, as a
freaking apartment. “Chocolate covered strawberries.”