Blow Me, Baby
Sidney Bristol
Published by Sidney Bristol at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Sidney Bristol
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This story is for Suzan Butler, who tweeted me asking to write her a scene involving gambling, a man who looked like Gerard Butler, and blowing. I hope you’re happy Suz.
When your friends hooked up with male strippers and stole your wallet, there wasn’t anything to do except play the players.
Toni tugged the front of her dress down, her breasts dangerously close to popping out of the halter top. Somehow in the confusion to clear out of their hotel room her friends had also made off with her suit case, leaving her with a hotel bill, her car and their dirty laundry.
So much for friends.
Wobbling on borrowed heels she did her best to strut into the Vegas casino. She’d always been lucky. It was time to see how that luck held up under pressure because she couldn’t take another hit this week.
Milling around on the casino floor scored her a drink, some chips and a sleazy request for the night. Sipping the fruity cocktail she tried not to gag. What she wouldn’t give for a beer, some jeans and to never have come on this stupid vacation. It had been a fleeting idea. One of her coworkers’ girlfriends had convinced her to come. She hadn’t liked the girl in the beginning but over time she’d seemed okay. Toni had few friends who were women and the girl had caught her at a low point with the invitation for the weekend get-away.
At least she’d driven herself. Now all she had to do was score some cash.
After working the floor for another hour she hit pay dirt.
Sliding up to the table Toni peered down at the craps game in play. She’d never gambled on principle. Wasting her hard earned money on cards and dice didn’t line up to her way of thinking.
The dealer dismissed her and her lack of chips in favor of the plain clothes heavy hitter next to her. She’d watched him for several minutes playing the table. The man had luck – and money. Inwardly she groaned because damn her luck – he was a fine piece of ass. If the strippers had looked anything like him she wouldn’t have been able to refuse. A few inches over six foot with dark hair and a day’s worth of scruff he had rugged down to an art.
Her quarry turned to her, dark blue eyes high on adrenaline. “Blow me, baby.”
Stunned, Toni’s cheeks flamed.
“Darlin,” he chuckled, an accent that was not rooted in the America’s flavoring his voice. “Don’t leave me hang’en.”
She had enough piece of mind to glance at his hand and the dice resting in his palm.
Oooooooh.
Meeting his laughing gaze she bent over, pursing her lips. His brow lifted at the provocative gesture and broke out into a grin when she blew over the dice. The pressure around them bore down, creating a bubble of sensual possibilities. Toni’s heart raced, catching his excitement.
“Come on Lady Luck, I need a new pair of shoes!”
He rattled the dice in his hand and tossed them on the table. She didn’t know the rules of craps well enough to know what the dice meant but he pumped a fist in the air and cheered. Grinning she looked from the table to him. Hands clenched her shoulders and jerked her against his chest. Surprised, Toni’s last thought was, ‘How did he know?’
Lips sealed over hers, stealing her breath away in a toe curling kiss. Swaying on her feet she leaned against his chest. Her nipples tingled, reminding her of yet another thing stolen from her. Despite his lip locking power, Toni had enough presence of mind to put a hand to his chest and push him away.
“Oh come now lass, we were just gett’en started.”
“Don’t you have some winning to do?” Oh how she hated herself for sounding so breathless and turned on.
“Aye.” He looped an arm around her waist and hauled her against his side. Turning his attention to the dealer he collected and organized his winnings.
“That’s a lot of chips.”
“Aye.”
“I don’t know a lot about gambling. What do all the colors mean?”
“Different amounts of money. Hush lass.”
She bit back the urge to tell him off and watched the next game. He again asked for her precious breath and unsurprisingly he won. Again. This was her prey alright.
“How much money is all this?” She peered at the new stacks of chips.
“About five grand. Do you fancy dinner with me to celebrate my good luck?” The way he grinned was full of joy. It would be so easy to be taken in by him. He was good. Very good.
But she was better.
“Maybe,” Toni said, but his attention was back on the table.
Popping the latch on the clutch she’d found in the dumpster outside of the hotel Tori checked the tools of her trade. At least the idiots hadn’t been stupid enough to mess with her car or her work gear. She was pissed about the wallet and clothes and it was going to suck to come clean to her friend about his girlfriend, but all of those things were replaceable. Her work gear was not.
Gifted to her by her mentor, she still used the same colt revolver and worn Kevlar vest as she had on her first job. They brought her luck.
With finesse that spoke of years of practice, Toni slapped the cuff on her gamblers outstretched arm and clicked it tightly into place before he even realized he’d been made. Shoving her left hand between his shoulder blades she wrenched his cuffed arm behind his back.
“Don’t struggle. I’m Fugitive Enforcement, Mr. Stuart. You’ve failed to appear in court. If you struggle I will use force to subdue you.” Her body felt alternately hot and cold, betraying her outward calm. Damn but she loved the thrill of bagging her criminal. George Stuart had fled California, her home state, on bail. Bringing him home would pay for her trip and line her pockets – and here she’d thought the weekend would only cost her money.
George bucked against her. “Oh come on! I’m just a little late for a date. It’s no big deal, lass.”
“George, give me your wrist or I will use force.” Her blood was pumping, no matter that in the course of bounty hunting this was a clean bag and tag. She hadn’t had to chase him, tase him or even subdue him, but it still got her hot to slap the cuffs on.
Grousing, George thrust his free arm back and she clicked the cuff into place. Spinning him around Toni kept one hand on his arm while she dug in the clutch for her badge and clipped it over the most daring bit of cleavage. The dealer watched her with wide eyes, one hand under the table probably pressing a panic button. He wasn’t ignoring her now. They were drawing a small crowd, but that was George’s fault. The guy simply wouldn’t shut up.
“Don’t look so unhappy, George.” She flashed him a sweet smile. Too many men underestimated her because she was female, and just like George they’d been had. “I’m going to let you collect your winnings. You’ll need it to pay your bondsman.”
His face was red and splotchy. “Ya know what lass? Blow me.”
Tilting her head to the side, Toni grinned. “Baby, we already did that. Don’t you remember?”
About the Author
It can never be said that Sidney Bristol has had a ‘normal’ life. She is a recovering roller derby queen, former missionary, and tattoo addict. She grew up in a motor-home on the US highways (with an occasional jaunt into Canada and Mexico), traveling the rodeo circuit with her parents. Sidney has lived abroad in both Russia and Thailand, working with children and teenagers. She now lives in Texas where she splits her time between a job she loves, writing, reading and belly dancing.
You can visit Sidney at www.sidneybristol.com or twitter with her @Sidney_Bristol