Strip Poker: Bad Boys Club Romance #2 Read online

  “Not about this,” she said, pushing my arm playfully. “I meant I shouldn’t be telling you ways to leave your uncles and do your own thing. But… since we’re on the topic… what would you really be giving up if you left them and went out on your own?”

  I thought about that for a second. “Well… the yacht… the private jet… I have a really good life right now.”

  “Is it really what you want, though? That kind of life?”

  “The women are nice,” I joked.

  “Yeah,” she scoffed. “Women you like so much you pay them thousands of dollars to go away.”

  Ouch.

  “Is that all you want?” she continued. “Lots of women you don’t care enough about to have them stick around till the next morning?”

  I looked at her closely – her shining eyes, her flushed cheeks, her slightly tussled hair.

  She was so goddamn beautiful. So alive.

  And she seemed really passionate. Like this was important to her – that my life meant something to her.

  “No,” I said quietly. “No, I definitely want more than that.”

  She gazed deep into my eyes. “See? That’s what I’m saying – you’re just trapped by all these things you think you want, but you could do so much more, Vic. You could be so much more. You have so much potential – ”

  I couldn’t help myself.

  I leaned forward and kissed her.

  Her lips were soft and warm. And underneath the whiskey, there was a sweetness to her breath.

  There was no hesitation on her part. She kissed me back, her lips pressing against mine –

  For all of two seconds.

  And then she pushed me away.

  “ASSHOLE!”

  “What?” I asked, bewildered.

  She stood up, her glass thumping onto the carpet and spilling booze everywhere. “I said no funny stuff!”

  “What?” I exclaimed, standing up too. “You were into it – ”

  “I WAS NOT!”

  “You kissed me back!”

  “I DID NOT!”

  “Yes you did – I felt it! You totally went for it!”

  She balled up her fists and put them on her hips angrily. “I am NOT one of your floozies!”

  “I didn’t say you were!”

  “You were planning this all night!”

  “I was not!” I yelled, then added, “Not really…”

  “That’s why you sent Domenico away! Because you were jealous!”

  “Me?! Jealous of Domenico? Don’t make me laugh!”

  “This was all a plan to get me back here – get me drunk, then kiss me and – ”

  “I kissed you because you really seemed to care about me, and you were totally into me – ”

  She got an enraged look on her face. “I am SO not into you!”

  “Then why’d you kiss me back?!”

  “Because I’m – I’m drunk and – FUCK YOU!”

  She stomped across the penthouse, grabbed her purse, and stopped at a closed door. “Do NOT bother me again tonight, you hear me?!”

  She opened the door, went inside, and slammed it shut behind her.

  “That’s the bathroom,” I called out, trying hard to stifle my laughter.

  She opened the door, her face red, and went to the next door. She opened it to check, then once she was satisfied turned back to me. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

  Then she slammed the door shut behind her.

  I sighed and shook my head. Women.

  Except, I had to be honest: all the women I hung out with would have totally banged me and then tried to use me afterward.

  Which is probably why I was so intrigued, even though she’d gone all psycho on me.

  In fact… I kind of liked it, which was sort of fucked up.

  I tiptoed over to the door and silently tried the knob. Not to go in – at least not now. It was better to let her cool off first. But if everything she’d just done was for show – so she didn’t have to feel cheap about sleeping with me – then the door would be unlocked.

  I gently twisted the doorknob…

  Nope.

  Locked.

  Well, damn.

  I waited out on the sofa for ten minutes to see if she’d come out.

  She never did.

  When I finally went to the master bedroom, I left the door slightly ajar… just in case. But after watching Sports Center for another half hour with no sign of Monica, I realized it was a lost cause, so I shut off the TV and used the remote to make the windows pitch black.

  I got into bed, but all I could think about was her slipping into my bedroom, getting under the sheets with me… her body naked… her skin soft and warm…

  Damn.

  It took a long, long time to get to sleep.

  25

  Monica

  Holy crap, what just happened?!

  I’d been talking to Vic about how he could make a huge change for the better in his life.

  One second he was looking at me intently, listening to me, taking me seriously. The next he’d been kissing me…

  …and I’d been enjoying it.

  I was right about to start French-kissing him when a voice had gone off in my head like an air-raid siren:

  WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!

  I had come half an inch away from ruining all my prospects for this new job. If I’d slept with him, there’s no way he would have respected me. He’d have laughed me off, made my life hell, and I’d have gotten fired within a week.

  I stumbled into the bathroom connected to the room (thank God I didn’t have to go back out there) and looked at myself in the mirror. Bleary-eyed, skin flushed, hair a mess… total fucking drunk.

  He really had been trying to take advantage of me.

  And I’d almost let him.

  That was the scariest thing: that for an instant… I’d almost been willing to go to bed with him.

  Fuuuuuuck.

  Time to get your head screwed on straight, woman.

  I looked around. Since this penthouse was the height of luxury, there was a cornucopia of supplies – toothbrush, toothpaste, cold cream, moisturizers. At least I didn’t have to worry about that.

  I took off my makeup and enjoyed a long, hot shower. Once I got out, I drank a ton of bottled water. Best to get hydrated so the hangover wouldn’t hit me like a freight train tomorrow morning.

  Or, I guess, later this morning. Ugh.

  Right before I was about to collapse into bed, I remembered Simon.

  Crap. I still have to arrange airfare for him…

  Screw it, I’ll just email him to take care of it and tell him I’ll reimburse him later.

  I got my phone out of my purse and immediately saw I had a new voicemail.

  Simon, I thought in irritation – but no.

  Sal Cortelian.

  “I got your message, Ms. Ames. Although I am not pleased about the excursion to Las Vegas, at least you can hopefully limit my nephew’s debaucheries.”

  Wonder what the old man would have thought if he’d known I’d almost participated in said debaucheries?

  “Since you’re there, I’ve arranged a business meeting tomorrow morning for my nephew. Breakfast at the Wynn hotel. I’ll have my assistant email you the particulars. In your interview, you pitched me the idea of harnessing Victor’s social media presence to achieve some sort of return on our expenditures…”

  Oh yeah.

  In my drunken stupor, I’d forgotten about that.

  It was basically the same concept I’d just told to Vic – except I’d suggested he cut out his uncles and strike out on his own.

  I’m sure Sal would’ve loved that.

  “This will be the first test of your theory. Have Vic at the breakfast meeting at 9AM… or I shall be severely disappointed. Sleep well, Ms. Ames.”

  My stomach turned. The veiled threat was unmistakable: get him there or lose your job.

  But 9AM?!

  That was only 6 hours from now. Subtract t
hirty minutes to make sure we were there on time…

  I was betting that 9AM was hours before Vic normally woke up.

  He was NOT going to be happy.

  I thought about informing him about the meeting right now, but my walking out there in a bathrobe was likely to be misconstrued. I didn’t want that hassle.

  And early warning would give him the opportunity to slip away into the casino for the next 12 hours and miss the meeting.

  No… best to take him by surprise.

  It would also be a chance to reassert my authority and whip his ass into shape.

  But that meant getting him up in about five hours.

  Waking him up wasn’t the same as getting him out of bed and making sure he was at a breakfast meeting by 9AM, though.

  I thought about how to do it. He outweighed me by well over a hundred pounds, and there was no way I could compete with his strength –

  Oh, wait…

  …I know how.

  I checked my purse and made sure I still had what I needed.

  Yup.

  This isn’t going to be pretty, though.

  But ‘pretty’ wasn’t what I’d signed on for… and I had a lot more important things at stake than making Vic Cortelian happy.

  26

  Vic

  Monica was there.

  It was dark when she walked into the room. With a sexy smile, she unbuttoned her blouse, exposing a scarlet lace bra holding up the greatest pair of tits imaginable.

  She unhooked the clasp in the front, and as she slowly pulled away the bra –

  A gigantic spotlight shone out from her chest and blinded me.

  That was when I woke up to see the Las Vegas sun blazing in through my windows.

  My completely transparent, un-blacked-out windows.

  “…what the fuck?!” I grunted, shielding my eyes with my hand.

  “Alright, up and at ‘em,” came a faintly New Jersey-tinged accent.

  I rolled over and squinted up at Monica. She stood at the foot of my bed, remote in hand. She was dressed exactly the same as yesterday, but her clothes were crisply ironed, her makeup was perfect, and there wasn’t a hair out of place.

  Not to mention her expression was completely merciless.

  “What the FUCK, Monica!” I shouted angrily, my eyes squinted nearly shut.

  “Your uncle Sal arranged a business meeting at 9. Not my choice, but it is what it is.”

  “What the hell?! I came here to play poker and get laid, not do business!”

  “And you didn’t even get laid,” she said in mock sympathy. “Now get up.”

  “How did you get in?!”

  “Your door was open.”

  “What? My…” My thoughts drifted back to the night before. Oh yeah. “You were supposed to come in last night, not now…”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “…nothing. Go away!”

  “Get up, Vic. I let you sleep as long as I could, so that gives us exactly forty-five minutes to get there on time – and we will be there on time.”

  “That means it’s…” It took a couple seconds for my bleary brain to work out the math. “…8:15 in the morning!”

  “Congratulations, your second-grade teacher taught you well.”

  “Most of the time I don’t even go to BED until now!”

  “Well, then, last night was an early one for you. Come on, let’s go.”

  “Fuck you,” I grunted as I rolled over and put my pillow over my head.

  I heard the thump, thump, thump of her high heels on the plush carpet, and then the pillow jerked away.

  “I’m serious, Vic,” she said as she threw the pillow on the floor. “Get up.”

  “Fuck you AND Sal.”

  I grabbed another pillow. She tried to snatch it out of my grasp, but I was too fast.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s your choice,” she said, trying to sound tough.

  I put the new pillow over my head, then peeked out just long enough to say, “Fuck you and DIE,” right before I covered my face again. And this time I hung on with a death grip.

  There was the thump, thump, thump of her heels… then silence.

  Thank GOD, I thought in relief.

  “Last chance,” I heard her muffled voice say.

  I just lifted up one hand and flipped her the bird.

  Suddenly a splash of Arctic-cold water slammed into my back.

  “AAAAAHHH!” I screamed as I jolted up out of bed, soaked from my neck to my boxers.

  I turned around to see my bed filled with ice cubes. Monica stood a few feet away with an empty champagne ice bucket in one hand.

  “There, now you’ve had your shower,” she said.

  “You BITCH!” I screamed. “What the HELL are you DOING?!”

  “My job,” she said as the tossed the pail away with a clank.

  “Well FUCK YOU! I wasn’t going to your goddamn meeting before, and I’m definitely not going now, you stupid – ”

  She lifted up her hand. There was a metallic pink object in her grasp, about the size of a pack of chewing gum –

  Which suddenly lit up with a sparking ZZZZZAP of electrical current.

  “AAAH!” I yelled, and jumped back a foot. “What the hell is THAT?!”

  “Keychain stun gun. My brothers got it for me for Christmas. Never used it, but it’s supposed to be 20 million volts. Crazy, huh?” she said as she lit it up again.

  ZZZZZZAP!

  I involuntarily flinched.

  “You know, as bad as it normally feels,” she continued, “I’ll bet it hurts like a mother when you’re drenched in water from head to foot.”

  Oh…

  Oh no…

  “You bitch,” I seethed.

  “You can call me whatever you want as long as you get to that meeting on time.”

  “This is illegal,” I snapped.

  “No, this is a negotiation. What do you say? Eggs over easy, or Vic well-done?”

  ZZZZZZAP!

  Now, I’m a tough guy, but when you see something out of a sci-fi movie in the hands of a crazy-ass bitch…

  “Fine,” I snarled, then headed for the bathroom –

  But she stepped between me and the door. “Unh-unh. Just put on your clothes and let’s go.”

  I stared at her in shock. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You mind if I go to the bathroom first?” I sneered.

  “Yes, I do. You’re not barricading yourself behind any doors.”

  “I gotta piss!”

  “Hold it till the restaurant. Come on, chop chop.”

  “You’re a real fucking bitch, you know that?”

  “Yeah, you already told me.”

  “You’re gonna regret this,” I snapped.

  “Well, just make sure you don’t,” she said, and triggered the stun gun again.

  ZZZZZAP!

  I shuddered as I pulled on my camo shorts and thought of all the ways I was going to get my revenge.

  27

  Monica

  We showed up at the restaurant in the Wynn five minutes early. Once the waitress sat us down at a linen-covered table, I finally put away the stun gun.

  “You unbelievable fucking bitch,” Vic muttered as he watched me stash it in my purse.

  “You keep calling me that. It’s getting old.”

  “It’s what you are.”

  “A Babe In Total Control of Herself?”

  He was puzzled for a second, but then he figured out the acronym.

  “That’s cute,” he said sarcastically. “You get that off a bumper sticker?”

  “A refrigerator magnet, actually.”

  “Well, I can call you something worse if you want.”

  “What – ‘Boss’?”

  “Ha,” he said mirthlessly. “Never gonna happen.”

  “Stick around, you might be surprised.”

  He scoffed, then looked around the room of businessmen talking over omelets
and coffee. “What the hell is this meeting, anyway?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He looked at me with a mixture of shock and outrage. “You dragged me out of bed at gunpoint for this, and you don’t even know what it is?”

  “It wasn’t at gunpoint, it was at stun-gunpoint. And your uncle Sal arranged it.”

  “How does he even know I’m here?”

  “I told him.”

  “WHY’D YOU DO THAT?!”

  “Uh, because I work for him? I had to check in with your uncles last night. I left a message, and Sal arranged this meeting without my knowing about it.”

  “You traitor.”

  I smiled with fake sweetness. “You can’t betray somebody you have no allegiance to.”

  “I’ll remind you of that when I get my revenge.”

  “What are you gonna do?” I asked in a bored voice.

  “I don’t know yet, but when I figure it out, it’ll be a doozy.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah. It’ll be one for the ages. It’ll make the Count of Monte Cristo look like Mickey fuckin’ Mouse.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “Ohhhhh, so do I, believe you me.”

  Suddenly there was a voice that was way too peppy for this early in the morning.

  “Hey hey heeeeyyyy, it’s The BEARD!”

  We both looked up to see a plump, boyish-looking, balding white guy in a three-piece suit. He had the biggest smile I’d ever seen on anybody besides a used car lot salesman, and he was making twin guns out of his hands and pointing them both at Vic. Pew pew!

  Vic looked up at him in confusion.

  “Dougie Koblowski, Vic! I’m a BIG fan!” the guy said with a giggly laugh as he stuck out his hand.

  Dougie?

  Unless you haven’t hit puberty yet, who the hell goes by ‘Dougie’?

  Vic just stared, like he didn’t know what the hell to make of him.

  When Dougie saw no handshake was forthcoming, he played it off by pointing at a passing waitress. “Hey – this is The Beard, and he doesn’t have a drink! What up with that?! Three Bloody Mary’s – you like Bloody Mary’s, Vic? ‘Course you do, what am I saying – Bloody Mary’s all around! Yeah!”