The Marriage Dare

But first he has to win, and I’m not convinced that he will. Maybe my beginner’s luck was being saved for this, because it somehow knew that this was coming and I’d need it more than those other hands. I don’t have a choice. It’s either this, or I’m sleeping in a shelter by the end of the week.

I take a sip of the whiskey. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll do it. But only because you’re going to lose and your bank account will be two million lighter tonight.”

He smirks. “I’ll barely notice that it’s gone. If you win.”

“Oh, I will.” I say it with a confidence that I don’t entirely feel. But I have to stay focused. I can do this, even if I’m feeling those two glasses of whiskey. The universe has dropped a chance in my lap and I’m going to take it.

“We’ll see,” Daniel says, standing and reaching out his hand for mine. “Let’s go.”

3

Daniel

There’s more of a buzz running through my veins from Monica’s proximity than any of the whiskey that I’ve had tonight. Now that I made my offer—or set my trap, depending how you think of it—I can’t wait to spring it.

I wasn’t exactly truthful with Monica. Or rather, I didn’t tell her everything. She did contribute to ruining my life, and I do want revenge. But this is more than just a simple hand of poker. Because my family had no money, and we barely had a home, playing cards was one of the only sources of entertainment that I had. Especially after she smashed that Game Boy. To say that I learned poker would be the understatement of a lifetime.

I breathed poker. I learned the rules and the statistics of the game. And more than that, I learned how to play the people sitting across from me. Poker is a game of chance, but it’s also a game of manipulation. I saw the way she convinced herself that she had just as good chance of winning as losing. But I know better. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, and she’s not walking out of here with two million dollars. If everything goes my way, she won’t be walking out of the casino at all.

Poker was the way I made a name for myself. Tournaments between shifts at the auto shop, and eventually enough money to take a chance at the big leagues. I never looked back. I could have retired off of my winnings from poker and taken care of my family for the rest of their lives. But after everything that we went through, “good enough” isn’t my style. So I took those winnings and gathered investors and opened the first Brazen Casino. The right idea at the right time.

I lead Monica through the casino toward my private poker suite. I hold high stakes games here for VIPs and friends if they’re ever in town. Tonight it will just be Monica and me, and I can’t wait. She’s even more beautiful up close, and more beautiful than I remember. I did tell her the truth when I told her that I’m at war with myself. Everything in me wants to skip the poker game and take her upstairs and fuck her until she’s screaming my name. But I also want to see her brought low. I want Monica Blast to know humiliation and more. I want her on her knees before me—figuratively and literally.

She’ll beg me. For every single thing that I can give, she’ll beg. I’ll treat her like a queen. Shower her with luxury and then take it away. Give her pleasure that’s never enough. Until she’s crawling after me. Then maybe, once I’ve decided she’s had enough, I’ll relent. Maybe.

The vision of her kneeling before me fills my head and I’m glad that I’m walking in front of her because I’m instantly hard. Monica has a gorgeous body and even more beautiful face. Perfect lips that I’m dying to see wrapped around my shaft. I want to see her swallow my cum. I want to look into her eyes and see her powerless in front of me. The boy she used to mock and bully. I want her to feel how the tables have turned.

But that will have to wait. I need to focus now, because I have no intention of losing. There’s a guard—Devon—at the door to my suite, and he nods to me as I approach. Taking a step back, I place my hand on Monica’s bare back—thank God for the way this dress is built—and usher her inside. Her skin distracts me and makes me want to alter the deal. But no. It will be worth it. Monica is going to be mine whether she likes it or not.

“This is beautiful,” she tells me.

“Thank you.”

She’s right, it is. I spent a lot of time on this room, working with a designer. Every choice was intentional. It’s meant to initially be welcoming and disarming, but there are touches that sink in later that add intimidation. Just what you need in a room where you’re trying to win poker. Dark walls and gold sconces create a shadowy atmosphere that’s intimate and just a little dangerous. Red leather furnishings that are incredibly comfortable, but will also stick if you start to sweat. I love to watch people succumb to the design. It happens every time. “Make yourself comfortable.” I gesture to the table in the center of the room.