Corey
Stefano leads me to a black Mercedes and he drives to the Venetian. I shoot him a quizzical look as we get out of the car at the valet station, but he just smiles and escorts me in.
I’m still confused as hell when he takes me to the poker room, takes out a grand in chips and sits down at a no hold em table.
“What are we doing?” I lean over and whisper.
“I’m testing your poker skills,” he murmurs back, nodding to the dealer.
“Oh.” I sit up taller. I’m suddenly intrigued, challenged and revved up. This isn’t some scary mafia deal he’s pulling me into. He wants to see me play.
I’m not sure why that’s a turn-on, but it is. His interest in me is always a panty-soaker, but knowing it goes beyond my good looks and extends to my brains, my skill, sparks more than just my libido. It lig
