“Bring me another.”
She nods, her black hair falling over her tattooed shoulder, then shimmies away.
With a flick of my finger, I point Tade toward the tall stool at the bar, and he slides into it with a solid look of confidence.
The table fills up, but as aDeltaattempts to take the last spot, I lean forward, place my hand over it, and inform him, “This one’s taken.”
He goes still. Eyes dart to mine. His jaw tightens, like he’s weighing the cost of pushing back. But after a long second, he swallows whatever pride he had and backs off—silent, retreating like prey that realized it was about to be eaten.
As I suspected, the succubus comes bouncing into the room before the hand is dealt. When she spies me, I make sure she’s watching while I dive in and suck on Sutton’s neck. She threads her fingers through my hair, tits soft against my chest as I tap the green felt table behind her. Waiting.
Steam practically blows from Ashlyn’s ears as she strolls toward me like a hurricane, whip gripped in her hand. As if sheplans to use it. She halts at my side, then snaps her fingers. Hand on hip. Attitude seething with ire.
“Up, asshole. You lost. I won. I get to take you to the center ring and make you my bitch.”
My laugh is slow and filled with venom. “Oh,babygirl…everyone knows whose bitch you are. You’re just the last to admit it.”
“If you’re implying I’myours?—”
“You are.”
“No, I’m not.” She crosses her arms, the leather strap held loosely in front of her. Eyes darting toward the felt, the cards, the dealer. An addict trying to deny herself the next hit. The tip of her pink tongue dips out to swipe at her bottom lip.
“Wanna bet?”
Her big blue eyes narrow as she examines my face for a tell, which is hard to do because Sutton takes the moment to press her mouth over mine.
“Bet what?”
“On who owns who. If you win? I’ll not only go to the tent and do your little obedience test. But I’ll wait on you hand and foot for a week. Whatever you want. Whatever little humiliation fantasies you’ve dreamed up, I’ll be yours.”
“In front of campus, Mr. President?”
“Yep.” I pop thepto emphasize my point. And now…here’s the kicker.
“And ifyouwin?”
“Well, then I ownyoufor the week.”
With a tug on Sutton’s blonde ponytail, I trail a finger down the front of her neck, letting it dip into her cleavage while warning the jealous woman next to me. “Collared. Leashed. And trained into submission to me,Ashlyn Donovan.”
Ashlyn rolls her tongue over her teeth, contemplating. Her expression gives nothing away, but I can feel the heat radiating off of her.
Hmm, maybe I overplayed the hand.
Lips brush against Sutton’s ear as I maintain a locked gaze on Ashlyn. “Didn’t think she’d do it. She knows she’ll lose to me.”
Ashlyn’s arms drop. Upper lip curls into a sneer. “Fuckyou. I’m in.”
The sound is electric. Harmonious. Like angels singing. I’m about to get what I want. And for the first time since I left that fucking closet, I can finally breathe.
When I wave at the empty seat, she scurries into it, like she’s afraid I’ll change my mind. The brown leather padded chair groans as she settles in, squirming with anticipation, dropping her whip to the side. She’s glowing as gold as her hair. Almost smug.
I hate that her corset makes her tits crest the surface of her dress.
I hate how much I can’t look away.
A silent, simmering fury is what keeps me going. And if I give that up to lust after her pussy? I’ll lose.