Page 34 of Ace's Winning Hand
ACE
My woman has been keeping her own at the final table. It’s been more than a little impressive to watch. I’ve sure as fuck been hard since I watched her get dressed earlier. Fuck, I’m always hard around her. That’s just how it is and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Quincy Wells does something to me that no other woman has done. I crave her constantly. Even the distance between us right now is too much.
I wish she could have sat on my lap while playing. But I would have spent my time glaring at the other celebrities around the table.
At least that fucker Aaron Holt is gone. I saw the way he looked at my Hollywood, and I didn’t like it one bit. Not one fucking bit.
She didn’t take his shit and she sure as hell saw through his famous golden boy bullshit. I puff my chest up a little at the memory. The way she brushed him off was sexy as fuck.
Now is not the time to think about that.
Not when my woman has been playing aggressively like she’s on a fucking mission to take down every other person at the table to bring home the tournament win. But I see her flagging. I don’t think the cards have taken a turn, they love her just like everyone else she meets, but she’s ready to be done.
I don’t blame her.
It’s possible I’m not helping because I can’t take my eyes off her. I’ve been watching her try not to shimmy in her seat more than once.
There’s no doubt in my mind that if I were to slide my hand between her thighs and under the scrap of lace covering her pussy, I’d find her drenched.
For me.
Always for me.
She’s not ready to see it, but I’m not letting her go. I was serious as fuck when I told her she’s mine last night. But she’ll understand soon enough.
I can’t tear my eyes away from her, she’s so fucking gorgeous. The lights hit her blonde hair and illuminate it from the inside out. It looks like she’s glowing.
Maybe she is.
My attention snaps to the cards when the dealer shows the turn. I take in my woman’s face and know what she’s about to do.
“I’m all in,” her voice is clear, almost mischievous.
I don’t pay attention to anything other than her face as the rest of the players throw in or fold. One corner of her mouth twitches at the river and I swear she’s preparing herself to stand up. It hits me right in the middle of my chest—she knows she’s about to lose the hand. She probably knew before she went all in.
My cock goes rock fucking hard.
She’s taken down by trip Jacks and if I hadn’t spent so much time studying her while playing, I might believe the pout. With a smile and good lucks given to the rest of the table, my woman stands and turns toward me.
I’m struck again by how much of a goddess she is. Her hips swing as she heads right toward me even though she should probably be going to some green room somewhere. When a man approaches, she unclips the microphone pack and hands it to him. He opens his mouth, but sheshoots him a glare, and he swallows hard before disappearing back into the production darkness.
Her voice is soft when she’s standing in front of me, “We have one more night together.”
Is that disappointment I hear in her voice?
I could allow myself to feel it too, but I don’t. Because she’s not going anywhere. I just need a chance to get her to see it.
My hands come up to cup her face, my gaze roaming over her features. The sadness in her eyes deepens the longer I don’t say anything.
“Come on, Hollywood,” I murmur, “I’ve planned something special for us.” My eyes roam over her, my mouth going dry at how it hugs the curves of her body. “I’m not wasting your outfit,” I tease her and wink.
“Okay,” her voice cracks slightly, but she clears her throat and tries again, stronger the second time, “okay.”
I whisk her away, choosing one of the restaurants in the hotel known for being romantic, dark, and perfect to hide my woman away for one more night. As she sits, I eye her, loving the way she lets herself shift in her seat now that she’s not playing at the poker table.
Knowing I affect her, and make her want so much it’s hard for her to keep still, is fucking heady. I don’t take the responsibility lightly.
