Joker’s Mistress – ebook

Excerpt

“Gentlemen. My name is Ava and I will be dealing your cards tonight,” she said, smoothly, taking her place at the head of the table.

Kathrine had never seen Ava look so sensual. She was head to toe glittering black sequins, shimmering like an ice-laden evergreen in the moonlight. The dress was loose about the shoulders and the daring neckline cut deep; almost to Ava’s navel. It covered her adequately, but displayed a rich earthy slice of the roundness below each nipple; the under-curve melting seductively into the dusty shadows of the gown.

“If you are ready, we will draw cards for position.”

There was a murmur of approval and Ava fanned the deck, one handed, holding the cards out to the men. They took turns, drawing a card for seating privileges; the highest to sit at Ava’s left.

“The game is five card draw,” Ava continued. “Aces high; no wild cards. And if there’s no objection, I am going to raise the stakes.”

The men watched as Ava lifted her hands to the front of her dress. Kathrine heard the rustle of satin and smiled. Ava parted the opening with a delicate slip of her fingertips and her unhaltered breasts were suddenly bobbing free like twin moonscapes, pale and full; the trumpet-shaped nipples, peaked.

“This sweetens the pot, winner takes all,” Ava said. “Do I heard any objections?” The room went still; a cloying silence.

The men gaped at the sight-of-sway of Ava’s chest. There was uncertainty. What was being offered them? The men weren’t sure they understood. The eyes of the investment banker from Austin were bugged and his hands were trembling with anticipation.

“I will avail myself to the winner following the game, in the bedroom,” Ava said. “No spectators, no oral, no anal. I am safe and clean, and I don’t carry condoms. Any questions?”

Ava looked around the table. Nothing.

“Okay, gentlemen. Let’s play some serious poker. A fresh deck of cards.”

Ava wasn’t naive, Kathrine knew that much. Ava had played the Sidewinder Room, after all; on the lower level of the Adobe where the Casino hosted its by-invitation-only parties: The private parties where the girls who flipped the cards and spun the wheels were required to leave the bottom half of their uniform in the change room locker before striding out onto the gaming floor.

The girls would come in waves, three or four at a time, like lines of catholic schoolgirls; some with arms linked, laughing gleefully. Others, the younger ones, the first-timers, stayed focused on the money. They smiled nervously into the upturned faces of the men; sweaty faces that glimmered with surprise and hope at the sight of their favorite dealers from upstairs; jovial pubic parcels now exposed and rollicking; presented up for their enjoyment. The men would marvel shamelessly at all those rolling hips punctuated with dark swaths of pubic hair; accentuating each and every languid step.

“Gentlemen. Opening bids please,” Ava said.

There was twenty-five grand on the table and the men had yet to sort their cards. Martin was first up and drew only one card. It was a clear indication that he had a strong hand and he bet five-thousand.

Three players balked; folded their cards. Martin looked at his last opponent with renewed interest. He didn’t know the man and the guy’s face revealed little but Martin sensed a bright intensity. Kathrine felt her cell phone vibrate and she read Martin’s text message: “Who’s the dude?”

Kathrine turned from the game and texted: “Pitcher for the Oakland A’s.”

When Kathrine looked back, Martin had shrunk a little; dropped lower into his chair. He recognized a real opponent. The ballplayer slid chips into the center of the table. “I’ll see you and raise you another two-thousand.”

Martin took a breath and tossed more chips onto the pile. “Call,” he said and spread out his cards: Two pair, eights and jacks.

“Sorry, bud.” The ballplayer smiled. He had a straight: Four, five, six, seven, eight.

He took Ava by the elbow. She cocked her head back as she was marched toward the bedroom and gave Kathrine a tight remorseful look. Never before had the two friends been this close. There was just the glimmer of a sad smile on Ava’s lips and then she stepped through and was lost from view.

The ballplayer looked down at her breasts, still saucily protruding from between the folds of her dress, and grinned. She winced but there was nothing for it: She had made the deal; thrown her body onto the table alongside the money. And he was here to cash in.

            No big deal, she tried to convince herself. She thought of the Sidewinder Room, the private parties where she had walked out onto the gaming floor wearing nothing more than her trim little vest with her string-tie dangling about the long column of her bare neck.

It had been okay back then, when she was young. Her husband needed the cash and she had made the sacrifice. It was humiliating, sure, but she had done it. And now here she was again. Not so different she tried to justify her next question: “How do you want to do it?”

He chuckled deeply and reaching out he ran his fingertips down along the outside curve, her left breast arching into the feel of his fingers. It pricked the goose-flesh. “From behind, sweetie,” he said. “I want to watch that lovely ass of yours jiggle as I pound you.”

Ava dully nodded and rolled her shoulders free of the dress. It fell, caught on her hips and she did a snaky little wiggle to shake herself loose from the satin. It parachuted down nude legs and pooled about her ankles. Ava heard his breath catch. If he hadn’t realized she wasn’t wearing underwear, he knew it now. Ava stepped from the confines of her dress, reached down, gathered it loosely and placed it over the back of a chair. She moved to the side of the bed, crawled up, and bending at the waist, she widened her knees. Then Ava lowered her face into the bedspread. With her high-heels dangling off the edge of the bed and her bum propped in the air, it was the pose of absolute, and unconditional, surrender.