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There are too many in my mind.
But it's her turn, not mine. And despite her passion for sex, she's not about to dare me to lick her to orgasm.
She's too smart for that.
I can play her game. It's a good idea. Or a terrible idea. I'm not sure anymore. The stale air and the sounds of the casino are already twisting my thoughts.
No.
It's smart. From a certain angle.
This way, I can make sure she goes home with someone safe. Someone who will show her a good time.
If she picks a guy on her own, he might be no good. One of those selfish fuckers who doesn't believe in cunnilingus.
Or insists a condom ruins the experience.
Or thinks sex is over the second he comes.
I've listened to too many war stories. From womenandfamily law attorneys. Sure, there are stories about men with selfish or difficult women, but they never really compare.
"Dare," I say.
The barista calls our order before she can issue a dare.
She pounces on her iced latte.
I sip my iced tea slowly. Usually, I don't mind my reputation as the stern, all-business guy. But with her, I don't like it. I want her to see me as someone who enjoys life. I want her to see me as, well, fun.
She stabs her lid with her straw, takes a long sip, sighs with bliss. "This is way better than I expected." She motions to the doorshall we?When I nod, she moves back into the mall pathway and back onto topic.
She slows as the casino comes into view. The lights and sounds belong to a different universe. One of chaos and pain.
Not one of peace.
But that's fun, isn't it? Gambling and drinking cheap, free liquor are fun to the people here.
Her eyes go to my watch. "We have two hours. That should leave time for at least two rounds," she says. "So, first thingsfirst, Jackson Steele, I dare you to play a one-hundred-dollar round of blackjack."
It's not exactlyI dare you to tell the dealer you want to tie her up, but it's a traditional idea of fun, yes. "Is that risky enough for you? Or should I put it all on red?"
"Oh, yes, you should. But I want to ease you into things." She shoots me a knowing look. "Blackjack has more strategy. That's a good game for you."
She's right. She knows me well.
How does she know me so well?
It warms me someplace that's usually cold. I don't just want to fuck her. I want to hold her too. I want to stay up late, talking about everything and nothing.
When's the last time I felt that?
Have I ever?
I don't know anymore.
"Come on." She intertwines her fingers with mine. "Lose control for once in your life. It will make it more satisfying when you take control later." She doesn't addwe're both thinking about those furry handcuffs around my wristsbut it fills the air anyway.
After we each buy a hundred dollars'worth of ten-dollar chips, we head to the ten-dollar minimum table. Daphne wants to enjoy at least ten rounds.
