The Player (The Game Maker #3)(12)

I wanted to shake them. Stupid rich people.

Couldn’t they see I was false gold?

I stared at the ceiling, my mind zooming to a memory from my early childhood. I’d been pensive and confused as I’d told my mom, “Gulls always say, ‘If something seems too good to be true, it is.’ That’s supposed to be our secret, but it’s out there, right in the open. Why don’t they listen?”

“They get greedy and ignore what they know deep down,” my beautiful mother had said. “Vice, never forget that we sell fairy tales. And fairy tales don’t exist.”





CHAPTER 6

When I opened the door to exit one of the guest bathrooms, Dmitri was striding down the hallway, heading for me with an intent look on his face.

Intent on what?

My God, he was huge. I instinctively backed up, which only trapped me with him. But when he shut and locked the door behind him, I wasn’t anxious; I felt excitement . . . expectancy.

What would he do? We certainly wouldn’t be the first strangers to get busy in a Vegas bathroom. Should I go along with the scenario?

Maybe, but a show of resistance wouldn’t go amiss. “Dmitri, I’m not the type of girl who hooks up in bathrooms.”

“I know.”

“But you still want us to?”

He reached for my purse, setting it aside.

I guess he does. “I’m not going to have sex with you.”

“Understood. Let down all that lovely hair of yours.”

After a hesitation, I removed my hair stick, and the length tumbled over my shoulders. My hair was platinum, courtesy of some distant Norwegian ancestors, and had a little curl to it.

Dmitri appeared captivated as he ran his fingers through it. “Like silk,” he said absently? seeming not to realize he’d spoken aloud. “I want to see all this blond hair fanning out in my bed.”

Could be in your future.

He wrapped the ends around his fist, then leaned down to graze his lips along my neck. His tongue flicked me, and the pleasure was so intense, I couldn’t bite back a soft moan. I clutched his chest to keep my balance.

“I want my second kiss.” He brushed his lips against mine. Once, twice . . . His tongue swept in.

I met it with my own, and heat shot through me.

He groaned against my lips, deepening the contact. As our tongues twined, my breasts began to ache, my thong getting damp. I was panting by the time he drew back.

His golden eyes looked darker with lust, now full amber. “So many things I want to do to you.” His voice was husky. Releasing my hair, he said, “Turn to face the mirror.”

“Pardon?” He’d muddled my thoughts.

“I’m going to give you commands. If you obey me, you’ll be rewarded.”

He’d warned me he would play games. “I don’t know,” I murmured, another show of hesitation before I played along. For my con, I was supposed to make his dreams come true—almost. Teasingly, and short of sex.

“Turn around.” The seething need in his eyes made me do it.

When I faced the mirror, I thought I’d see bewilderment in my reflection. I was confronted by my own excitement. Did I like being bossed around?

“Lift your dress for me.”

I wore only a white lacy thong. I nibbled my lip.

“You want to show your body to me.”

I did. I really did.

No, the tequila must be making me loopy! All I could think over and over: Give him whatever he needs.

“Do it. Now.” This control he wielded unnerved me—even as it aroused me.

Heart racing, I pinched the hem of my dress and started to raise it. Any shyness I’d expected—along with the impulse to cover myself—faded.

For some reason, I craved his gaze on my ass and my wet panties. But I took my time pulling my dress up to my waist.

He sucked in a breath, ogling my curves.

My face was on fire. Things were getting confused in my head until even my embarrassment was making me wet. And happy. Giddy, even. My lips curled.

“Is that a victory smile, Victoria? It should be. I’m coming undone. If you ever discover the extent of my attraction to you, I will be doomed.”

“Doomed to what?” In the mirror, I gazed down his body.

His big cock surged against his pants. “To whatever it is my Victoria desires.”

It’s a material world, Russian.

“Keep your dress raised.” He reached for me, using both hands to cup my cheeks, to knead them, to spread them. This wasn’t a mere seduction. He was exploring me, his eyes lit with curiosity. A boy with a new toy.

He gripped my hips, head tilted down as he watched himself thrust against me. Low masculine sounds broke from his chest.

I inhaled sharply. His excitement and need were fueling the same in me, but I still said, “No sex, right?” I didn’t think I physically could take that dick in me. Not without some prep time.

We met gazes in the mirror. “I’m not going to f*ck you yet.” Wait, yet? “Take off your dress. I must see more of you.”

While he remained clothed? “Why should I?”

He gave me his thrall look. “Because, beautiful girl, this is the most pleasurable thing I have ever done, and I’ll give anything for it to continue.”