Maybe they should’ve been paying more attention to their cards because it wasn’t long before the table was down to three players.
Seeing how easily he slipped between three different personality types brought back her concerns. Did he treat her like a player to be managed in a card game? Could he gauge her mood and adjust his personality and responses accordingly? And if he was doing that, how much had he really changed?
Man, she had a crapload of doubt. And when they weren’t rolling around in the sheets together, it made her wonder if they could overcome their tangled past.
Doesn’t matter, remember? Hot sex, good times, when it’s done it’s done and there won’t be any crying about what might’ve been.
Shouts and clapping brought her out of her reverie. A bunch of people were standing around the table but she couldn’t see anything.
Who’d won?
Then everyone stepped away. Dalton’s beaming grin was a sight to behold. No mistaking that for anything but a victorious smile.
Their eyes met. Rory recognized that look. Triumph and lust. A conquering hero hell bent on taking his prize.
So winning made him horny? Interesting.
If she was a betting woman, she’d drop a C-note that Dalton would drag her back to their room as soon as possible. He’d have her bent over the arm of the couch or pinned to the mattress within minutes of walking through the door.
But Rory didn’t want that. Tonight she wanted to tease the beast. Sexually torment him to the point that he’d f**k her with that dangerously raw edge he tended to keep hidden.
Before she delved any deeper into that fantasy, the big, broad cowboy was in her face, lifting her, spinning her in a circle. “I won, I won, I won.”
She laughed. “I see that. Remind me never to play strip poker with you. What happens now?”
“Gotta go to the cage, get my cash and give the tax man his due. Sign some papers.” He stepped back and his hungry gaze took in her outfit. Cleavage-baring black bustier with a sheer pink blouse over the top. The stretchy black miniskirt clung to her ass and was about three inches shorter then she preferred. She hadn’t worn hosiery, even though it was f**king freezing. She’d slipped on heeled black boots that reached her knees.
Dalton made that growling noise. “How long you been walkin’ around wearing that outfit?”
“Some. Why?”
“Because you are smokin’ hot. Jesus, woman. You’re making me lose my train of thought.”
“Maybe this will get it back on track.” She placed an openmouthed kiss on his neck above his shirt collar. “Get your winnings so you can buy me dinner. I’m starved.”
“I’ll feed you. Then I’ll f**k you.”
Obviously Dalton didn’t care that anyone within earshot could hear him.
Rory brushed the front of her body against his. “You’re hard.”
“Fuckin’ right I’m hard. Winning always gets me hard. Add in the fact you’re here with me? Lookin’ like sex on legs? This hard-on ain’t goin’ away until I f**k you at least twice.”
Pushing him to the edge wouldn’t be a problem. The man was already there.
“Mr. McKay?” a staff member inquired behind him.
“Yeah. I know. Gotta get the paperwork done.”
“I’m supposed to ask if you’d like to dine here. I can have a private table reserved for you.”
Dalton looked at her. “How’s that sound?”
“Good.”
He kissed her cheek. “Hang out by the slot machines. I’ll be back in ten.”
Rory wandered on the main floor. She had more fun watching people shoving nickels in the slots than doing so herself. She didn’t stop for long in one place; too much restless energy. She did pause to look at a display of Old West memorabilia.
She sensed his return. Feeling his hot gaze tracking her backside, from her heeled boots up her legs. Lingering on the curve of her ass. Her hips. Her fall of hair that brushed the bottom of her shoulder blades.
Then Dalton’s hands landed on her hips. He swept aside her hair and placed a very possessive kiss on the side of her neck.
Gooseflesh broke out across her entire body and she released a soft moan.
“That moan drives me f**king insane. I wanna slip my hand under your skirt and finger you until you come. Then I’d lick that sweet cream from my fingers.”
Rory turned her head to nuzzle his jaw. “Then I’d suck it from your tongue.” She actually felt his pulse jump.
“Jungle girl, we’re gonna rip each other to pieces when we’re alone.” His mouth grazed her ear. “And. I. Can’t. Fucking. Wait.” He punctuated each word with a kiss.
Her entire body hummed with anticipation.
“But I promised to feed you first, so let’s go.”
Dalton clasped her hand and they climbed the stairs to the next level.
The host escorted them to a private table in the corner with windows on both sides.
She unrolled her silverware from her napkin and tried not to gawk. “This place is like…wow. Really upscale.”
Dalton looked up from the menu. “Food looks good. Since this meal is on the house, have whatever you want.”
The waiter delivered bottle of champagne and poured two flutes.
Rory raised her glass. “To Dalton McKay’s poker face and his incredible luck at cards.” When he growled, she laughed. “Kidding. To your winning strategy.”
They drank. Dalton refilled their glasses.
As he contemplated the menu, Rory studied him. Candle glow looked amazing on him. He’d mussed up his hair during the games and she preferred that wild look. His full lips were pursed as if he was deep in thought. When he glanced up at her from beneath the brim of his black hat, she was struck anew by his rugged good looks. It’d taken him longer to grow into that handsome face, but man, was it worth the wait.
“Sugarplum, why’re you lookin’ at me like you’ve never seen me before?”
“Because you’re gorgeous. Every woman in this restaurant is staring at you. They’re wondering what you’re like in bed.”
“If there are women in here besides you, I didn’t notice.”
She bit back a sigh and refused to let her cynical side get a foothold and warn her it was just another line.
Dalton ordered the elk medallions with a wild mushroom and bourbon demi-glaze. Rory ordered the pumpkin ravioli in a sweet cream sauce.
After the waiter left, she glanced up at Dalton to see him staring at her with a decidedly predatory look. “What?”