“Alpha, I could get in real trouble…”
“It’s fine…” I say, panting and quickly unbuckling my belt.
The smoking brunette waitress has been eyeing me all night. At break, I just had to have her.
“Seriously, I’m not…supposed…to…the players…” She tries to talk as I kiss the shit out of her lips.
“I’m not playing cards right now, am I?” I breathe.
She thinks then nods, ticking the corner of her lip in agreement as if to say that makes sense.
I smile as I fist my dick and slam it into her pussy. I’ve got fifteen minutes before the dealer calls my seat. Better make this good.
I kiss her to keep her quiet as I slam it home on the sink of the woman’s washroom.
I need this so bad. Grabbing her ass, I’m a fucking animal on her.
As I kiss her, I pull out my phone and check the time. Shit, five minutes.
I bare down and hit her pussy hard. She tenses and I feel her clench up around my girth.
She’s screaming into my mouth as my dick buries deep inside her.
I look at my phone. Two minutes. I thrust hard and it’s just enough to send me over. My climax rushes out and I coat her in my release. A few more strokes and I pull out. I quickly do my pants back up and kiss her.
“Thanks.” I give a charming smile.
“Good luck!” She calls to my back as I rush out of the washroom to the poker table.
I straighten my long, black curly hair and put on my poker face.
I casually look around from behind my dark glasses. The sounds of the casino are muffled by the doors of the private card room.
I smile at other players as I walk by.
Walking up to the table that I’ve been winning at all night, I take my seat. The dealer arches a brow and I nod to him.
The brunette waitress that I just had fun with, walks by. I stick my finger in the air. “Hey, sweetheart. Double shot whiskey. Top shelf stuff.” I wink and smile and throw a chip on her tray.
“Coming right up.” She smiles and walks away.
“We going to play cards, or watch you strike out.” Jonah says. Card shark. Dresses like he’s from a New York in the forties movie. He thinks he’s good, but I’m better.
I smirk, thinking of my ‘strike out' in the bathroom. “I’m waiting on you, tough guy."
Rick, sitting on the left of me, taps his chips together. “Let’s go.” He’s irritated because I’m one hand away from cleaning him out.
Drew, on my right, leans back in his chair. “I can watch Mateo strike out. It’s good entertainment.” He shoots me a smart ass smile and I shoot him a middle finger.
The other three guys sit silently. Waiting for the cards and for me to annihilate them. I eye them all.
There’s a kid in a hoodie and dark glasses. A guy with long hair pulled back. He’s in a suit. He’s the tables high roller and the one I’ve been targeting most of the night.
The last guy is an Irish man. He’s got the greatest tell. Whenever he gets a bad hand, he tugs at his ear. It helps him think. It’s great for calling his bluff.
Me? I’m a professional bluffer. I can wipe the floor with you. You can count your cards. You can try to shark me, but you’re not getting past my skills.
The dealer shuffles and it’s game on.
The hot brunette drops my shot on the table and I bounce my brow at her.
She smiles and walks around the table.
Behind me, a couple of pit bosses and security walk around the ten table VIP room.
Minimum bet at these tables is five thousand. I aim to triple that.
The dealer deals two cards each. I take a quick look. Rick starts. He ante ups. The kid folds. Mr. suit goes in and raises one. Jonah sees it.
The Irish man eyes me and sees the bet.
I look at my cards again. I see the bet and raise another two thousand.
Drew folds. The rest pony up.
The dealer flops.
Queen of hearts, seven of clubs and three of diamonds.
I look at my cards through my dark glasses. Two of spades. I slowly push the second card from behind it. Ace of diamonds. I got nothing.
Mr. Suit tosses in and raises. The Irish man sees. Rick eyes the table. He tosses in. Jonah raises and I see it, along with everyone else.
The dealer flops the forth card. Five of spades. This just gets worse. I love it.
I toss in and raise three thousand. The pot is now well over 15000 and it’s all mine.
Mr. Suit raises four thousand.
Rick folds. Jonah taps his chips. He sits and thinks. He must have something good. He sees the bet.
I toss my chips in.
The dealer tosses the river. Two of clubs.
Pair of deuces. My favorite hand.
Mr. Suit tosses in. Jonah matches. The Irish man raises another two.
I sit and think. Just bide my time a bit. Make them start to question themselves.
I eye them from behind my glasses and look at my cards.
I raise ten.
There’s nothing good on the table except the Queen which makes them think I have two more in my hand.
Now, if you were a counter, you’d know the probability of that, at this point, is highly unlikely. You’d call my bluff. But it’s a good thing I’m the counter at this table and all these guys suck.
My face is stone as I lay my cards down and wait.
Mr. Suit sits and thinks. He tosses his cards.
Rick soon follows with the Irish man right behind him.
Jonah flicks his eyes to me and back to his cards. He’s most likely sitting on a pair of sevens. If he thinks I have a pair of queens, he’ll fold.
He challenges my bluff by raising another three.
My eyes meet his and I push all my chips out. “All in.”
He still has a big stack in front of him. Does he want to risk it?
I see his brow start to wet a little. I got him sweating now.
He looks at me one last time and throws his cards.
I smirk and toss my cards to the dealer.
I rake in my winnings and motion for a cash out. “Thank you, gentlemen. It’s been fun, but I’m out.
The lady brings the cash box and takes my chips.
Mr. Suit calls over one of his guys and whispers to him. The guy walks away.
“Let’s see your cards." Jonah motions to the dealer.
“Come on, Jonah. Quit whining.” Rick says.
“No. I want to see his cards right now.” He thumps the table.
“Quit being a sore loser, Jonah.” I say in a snarky tone.
The cash box lady hands me a wad of cash and I put it in my pocket.
The dealer turns my cards over.
“You fucking cheat!” Jonah says.
I shake my head. “Bluffing isn’t cheating. Not my fault you fell for it.” I stand and salute the guys at the table and turn.
I hit the chest of a pit boss. “Manager wants a word.”
“Seriously? I didn’t cheat.” I scowl.
“Tell him. Let’s go.” He grabs my arm as I sigh and shake my head.
I’m led upstairs and to an office with a large window to the casino below.
“Look, fellas. I didn’t cheat.” I say to the pit bosses and security behind me. “This is the suit isn’t. I knew I hated that guy for a reason.”
They sit me in a chair and the manager is leaning on his desk. “Mateo Ortiz. You have quite the reputation on the strip.” He doesn’t quite look like a gangster. More like Frank Sinatra. He tosses a tablet on his desk. “You cheating my tables?”
“No! Check the cameras. I didn’t cheat.” I defend.
He nods. “We did check the cameras. Guess what we found?” He eyes me.
“What?” I scowl.
“You coming out of the bathroom with one of the VIP waitresses. So I’ll ask you again, did you cheat?”
Fuck! I sigh and lower my head. I forgot about the hall cameras.
I shake my head. “No. It wasn’t like that…”
He pushes off his desk. “I don’t mind that you count cards. I don’t even mind that you bluff every hand…” He leans a hand on my shoulder and puts his face close to mine. “But when you fuck one of my girls to get her to call cards to you, now I have a problem.”
“What?! No! I…”
He sucker punches me right in the gut.
I double over and groan.
He pulls my hair and raises my head. He delivers a right hook to my jaw. “This is my house and I don’t like cheats." He grits.
He goes to swing again and I grab his wrist. My eyes glow gold. “And I don’t like false accusations.” I snarl.
I kick him back, pull my chair out from underneath me and throw it into his gut.
The pit bosses come at me. I swing a right into the face of one and head but the other.
The security try to grab at me and I jump through the glass.
I fall to the first floor, landing on my feet on top of a black jack table.
People scream and back off as I stand straight. Shards of glass fall all around me. I look at the people looking up at me.
I look up and the manager is pointing. The pit bosses and security run for the stairs.
I jump off the table and weave my way through the jackpot machines. I come to an aisle and I’m clotheslined.
I fall to my back, choking.
A security guard grabs my jacket and puts my face in his very angry one.
“I’d love to stay, but I got to go.” I smile and grab his head. Slamming my forehead into his nose.
He falls to his hands and knees and I leap over him. I run up the aisle. A bunch of people were standing around talking. I jump through them, making some yelp
“Excuse me. Coming through." I say in a rush.
I hear screaming as the security and bosses run through them, hot on my ass.
More security show up and I skid to a stop.
I’m circled. “Ok.” I tick my head.
One security guy rushes me and I swing. Landing a punch to his face. Another swings and I duck. I upper cut him.
A pit boss runs at me and I grab his arm. I swing him around and let him go into the other waiting security. They all go down like bowling pins.
I leap out of the circle and hit the front door.
I get outside and look for the valet lot.
I turn to the right and book it fast.
At the entrance to the lot, I use my wolf powers to break the lock on the key cabinet.
“Hey, what are you doing?” The valet kids comes up and grabs me. I punch him in the face and he falls to the ground out cold.
I scan the keys.
“STOP!” I quickly look. Security is heading this way fast.
I find my keys and shut the cabinet.
Hitting the fob, I desperately need to find my car. Finally, I find it.
I get in and start it. I slam it into gear and reverse out fast. Security is right up my ass. Trying to get in.
I slam my mustang into drive and peel out of the lot.
On the street, I pass the front doors just as the manager is getting to the sidewalk. I wave at him with a charming smile and hit the gas.
I’ve been accused of cheating before, but I’ve never had to fight my way out. I hope this doesn’t get around. I need this.
I pull out the wad of money. 40,000 in cold, hard winnings. I smile and kiss it. I stick it back into my pocket and turn up my radio to ‘Fortunate Son' by Creedence Clearwater Revival.
With the wind blowing in my hair, I thump on the steering as I speed down the highway to home. Merritt City. Another great Vegas trip under my belt.