All In: Paying to Play (Gambling With Love) Read online

  I throw my keys and phone on the kitchen island and open the fridge to grab a beer. A pyramid of white Styrofoam boxes are stacked up on the usually empty shelves. There’s no food because I can’t cook. In fact, I haven’t eaten a home cooked meal in three years. I’ve tried to make some of the meals I watched our mom cook us a million times, but I always end up throwing them in the trash. Speaking of which, my trash can is overflowing with what looks like empty containers and black remains of…something that I now notice has left a dingy stench in the air. Guess the bitch can't cook, either. What the hell is she good for?

  Hungry, I pull the containers out and line them up on the counter to see if any of its edible. The mixed vegetables, salmon and potatoes look so good my stomach growls. I pile some of each up on a plate, not giving a shit if the bitch complains about me eating her food, and then throw it in the microwave.

  After my stomach’s full, my muscles relax and I feel somewhat drowsy, but it’s not enough. So I sit my ass down in front of the living room television and go straight to one of the late night skin channels. Two naked bottle blondes with huge fake tits make out in a bed, feeling each other up while a dude takes turns eating them out. Now that’s what I’m talking about.

  My dick instantly swells, and then it’s impossible to think about anything but the threesome fucking on my wide screen. All right, so there’s one other little thing…or person rather, that’s responsible for my raging boner. I can't help but imagine how damn amazing Addison would look naked. Seeing her bare, heavy tits bouncing. Getting my hands on that perfect, curvy ass. Those bright red, pouty lips around my cock instead of running her mouth.

  Unzipping my jeans, I pull my cock out, and as soon as my fist squeezes around it, I blow out a breath, already feeling lighter.

  …

  Addison

  I throw the sheets back and climb out of bed to go to the kitchen under the pretense of getting a glass of water. I woke up when I heard Jake moving around the house, even though my sleep up to that point had been fretful. Now I have this bizarre desire to see the big bastard. Definitely a glutton for punishment since there’s almost a certainty that he’ll say something hateful and I’ll end up saying something I regret. Again.

  I pad barefooted to the kitchen in my pajamas, and other than the oven light it’s shadowed in darkness. That’s when I notice the sounds coming from the living room. Is that…moaning? Curious, I take off across the linoleum and step onto the carpeted floor of the living room, stopping on a dime when I see the TV.

  Holy shit! There are people fucking! Not just two but like three of them. And then the realization hits. Jake is jerking off to this nastiness. Listening closely I can even hear his harsh breathing and the squeaking of the recliner. I can’t see him, only the back of his chair, but at that moment I know what he’s doing, and I’m…turned on. Which is disturbing. Yet I can’t make myself retreat. No, I strain my ears so hard it’s a wonder they don’t bleed.

  Since I can’t watch him, I watch what he’s watching. Two young, skanky blonde women in a bed, kissing each other, large, fake breasts being fondled while an older looking man frantically eats them out. Both of them, alternating his tongue from one pussy to the other. Oh and he's also using his fingers to fuck them, never leaving one completely empty while his mouth is away.

  The man eventually lifts one woman on top of him and she bounces on his cock. That’s when I realize my hand has grown a mind of its own as it disappears down the front of my shorts, sliding underneath my panties. I'm swollen and needy between my legs. When my fingertips touch the sensitive flesh of my clit, I have to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud.

  I watch the screen as the second woman moves into position, riding the man’s face while the other woman rides his cock. The two women face each other, both leaning forward to kiss and continue fondling while the man underneath fucks them both.

  I push two fingers into my soaking wet pussy with the heel of my hand putting pressure over my clit. I come before the women on TV, but nowhere near as vocal. In fact, I don’t make a sound, unlike Jake who I hear grunting.

  When the man on the screen warns the women he’s about to blow, the one on his cock climbs off of him and seals her lips around his big, thick length, fucking him with her mouth. The man eventually grabs his cock and strokes it while coming on the woman’s tongue that's hanging out of her wide open waiting mouth, and all over her eager face. That’s apparently what sets Jake off. His panting grows louder before he groans what sounds like, “Fuck, Addy.”

  Wait, what was that? I’m certain I misheard something that just sounded similar to my shortened name. The man’s never even called me anything other than derogatory words.

  I've just barely managed to remove my hand from my panties when Jake spins his chair in my direction. With only the light from the television, his gorgeousness is even more pronounced in the darkness. There’s a layer of shadowy stubble from his sideburns all the way down his jaw to his chin, like he didn’t bother to shave today, and the usual obnoxious humor is absent from his dark eyes, leaving them soft and honest. In fact, they seem almost…lonely. Then he opens his mouth.

  “What do you want, sweet cheeks? Need to meet your bitching quota before midnight?" he asks, his voice quiet, making him sound tired. That's when I notice his hand is on his cock that's protruding from his unzipped jeans. "Right now I’m thinking of a much better use for your smart mouth. Wanna guess what that is?"

  “You’re a pig.” I say the words without thinking after I’m caught off guard by him finding me snooping on him, oh, and because of his unfortunate sexiness. The suggestion of sucking his dick actually makes my mouth water, and I have to pry my eyes away from his thick shaft. “So, what? You couldn’t find a slut to fuck you tonight so you had to do it yourself?”

  “Nope. But maybe I’ll bring one home tomorrow and we could all three do that,” he says, raising a dark eyebrow suggestively and gesturing with his thumb behind him to the threesome on TV.

  “In your dreams,” I scoff before spinning on my heel to go back to my room.

  “Night, Addy,” he calls out behind me, answering that question. The way he says my shortened name actually sounds sort of sweet, unlike his usually rude slurs. That really shouldn’t have me grinning like a silly teenager when I crawl back in bed.

  Chapter Six

  Jake

  Pulling into my driveway and seeing her car now causes my aching muscles to tense, ratcheting up my anxiety. Damn it, I shouldn't dread walking into my own fucking house! After a long day of having my body worked to death I want to go in, pass out in my chair with the remote in one hand and a beer in the other. Without hearing a woman bitch and complain. Is that too much to ask? Why do men ever agree to get married if this is what it's like? Maybe because married men occasionally get fucked, while I get nothing. Nada. A swollen cock and blue aching balls or a mess in my hand is what I get. Like last night when Addy caught me jerking off. Instead of running away screaming and repulsed, she'd just stood there and stared like she'd never seen a cock before. Or porn. And her hard nipples were more obvious than a flood light shining in my eyes. She was turned on. Seeing her standing before me, after making myself come imagining her on her knees sucking my dick, I wanted nothing more than to tear her tiny ass pajama shorts and tank top off and pull her onto my lap to ride the fuck out of me. Never gonna happen.

  Fuck.

  I force myself out of my driver’s seat and drag my tired ass inside. The first thing I notice when I walk through the door is the house stereo is on, playing Red Hot Chili Peppers, which I approve of. The second is the smell. It's...nice, like the warm, cinnamon scent of an apple pie cooking in the oven. Pies like my mom used to make. I cautiously take a few mores steps, hating myself for letting a woman make me nervous and putting me on edge like this.

  Then I see that the living room is...spotless. No trash, no crumbs. The floor even has lines in it like it's been vacuumed. What the fuck i
s going on? I feel like I'm walking into a booby trap. Ha! Booby!

  Speaking of boobs, there's still no sign of my stacked roommate. She's not in the kitchen and sadly there's no pie in the oven. Must be one of those damn air fresheners, which is a huge disappointment to my grumbling stomach. I start cautiously down the hall since the light from the bathroom is on and the door is open. I turn the corner, and...holy fuck.

  Addison is on her hands and knees cleaning the bathtub in cutoff, frayed jean shorts, her incredible ass cheeks exposed as she stretches forward and scrubs, making her entire body shake. I can hear her humming along to “Dani California” blasting through the speakers, and the whole scene is so hot I don't want to interrupt. No, I want to video record it to have forever. And she's making my house clean, like really fucking clean! It hasn't looked this nice since the day I moved in.

  She starts scrubbing in a swift back and forth motion and I barely stifle a groan thinking she'd look exactly the same if I was kneeling behind her, shoving my cock in and out of her pussy while fisting her long, raven hair in my hand to keep her ass right where I want her. Suddenly she sits back on her heels and her head whips around to the doorway where I've been gawking. Her whiskey-colored eyes are wide as her lips part in surprise. I'd love to force that smart mouth open even wider and shove my cock inside of it. Oh hell. I struggle for something to say, a bastard remark that won't give away my arousal.

  "Your ass and the house are looking nice, sweet cheeks. What's with the June Cleaver routine?" I ask.

  "You live like a disgusting pig. If I'm going to put up with you for six weeks I want to at least live somewhere clean."

  "Yeah well, get your ass up and get ready. We're going out to dinner," I tell her, making a spur of the moment decision. I need to get my hands on that incredible ass, and according to her, there's only one way to do it.

  "W-what? Why?" she asks.

  "PR. My agent said we've got work to do to make it look like I've settled down. No one's buying it," I lie, hopefully convincingly.

  "Oh," she mutters, lowering her eyes. "It'd probably help if you weren't a complete prick to me out in public."

  "Whatever. Hurry up and be ready to go in fifteen," I reply over my shoulder as I head to my room before she notices my raging boner that's desperate to bury itself in her.

  After I shower and dress in khakis, I roll up the sleeves of my white dress shirt and go look for Addison to see if she's ready. I'm not trying to catch her changing to sneak a peek or anything like that. Nope. Not at all

  And, oh hell, I find her sitting on the edge of the guest bed, her lean leg lifted in the air as she rubs lotion up and down it, flashing just a hint of black panties underneath her little black, strapless dress.

  "Where are we going?" she asks without looking up at me.

  "The Capital Grille. I want steak," I reply, entranced by the up and down motion of her hands caressing each of her legs.

  I grab onto the top of the door frame to stretch my sore back muscles, trying to find something to do with my hands other than reach for those damn legs to pry them apart and taste her. She doesn't know it yet, but she's in for it tonight.

  "That's one of my favorite restaurants." She shocks the hell out of me by replying sweetly instead of complaining. Then her penetrating gaze finally swings my way. Whoa. Her bright red lipstick jumps out at me in sharp contrast to her black dress and hair. Her long eyelashes flutter over golden eyes as she sits all arched back, ivory legs stretched out in front of her. I feel like I should be paying admission for an old school naughty film or pin-up girl photoshoot. When her front teeth bite down on her plump bottom lip, my hips reflexively rock forward, my cock trying to call next. But then I realize...she's actually checking me out, from my fingers grasping the frame all the way down to the toes of my brown dress shoes.

  "Like what you see, sweet cheeks?" I tease.

  Her eyes narrow just before she looks away and combs her fingers through her wavy hair. "Your belt and shoes don't match."

  I glance down at myself in surprise at her statement. Brown shoes, black belt. Who gives a fuck? She does apparently.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were an enforcement officer for the fashion police," I snap in annoyance at her critique. I reach down and unfasten my belt while she watches my hands work. I yank the leather free from all the loops and fold it in half, slapping my other palm with it a few times. "I can think of a few better uses for this anyway. Why don't you bend over, so I can give you something to really bitch about?"

  Her eyes widen with her gasp before she grumbles, "Ugh. Now I've lost my appetite."

  "You can nibble crackers the whole time for all I care, but we are going out, so get your ass in the car!" Infuriating fucking woman. I turn around and storm through the house, tossing the belt on the sofa when I pass by it.

  After I sit down in the driver seat of my Challenger, there's several moments when I think she may actually refuse to go with me. But then the door opens and she steps out, locks up, and strolls slowly and sensually, swaying her hips the whole way until she reaches the car. When she climbs into the passenger seat she's sitting close enough that I can smell her fresh, citrusy scent that makes my damn mouth water. Probably just my hunger.

  "Well, are we going to eat or not?" she huffs. Shifting in the leather seat, she tugs on the hem of her short dress like that's going to make it magically lengthen to cover the abundance of thigh exposed. Yes, we need to get out in public, because PDAs are my new best friends.

  I drive us downtown and luck up finding a close parking spot on a side street. Of course the restaurant is packed this time of night, and since I didn't make a reservation, we're directed to wait at the bar. Watching Addison mount the bar stool, I decide exactly how I'm going to spend the time until a table's ready.

  "Let me get a Jack and coke," I tell the frat boy bartender as I take the stool on the left of her. "And what would you like sweet-ie?" I barely catch myself before saying cheeks or tits because I'm distracted, stroking my palm up Addison's bare leg, my thumb running along her inner thigh. Her jaw drops as her hand covers mine to stop my forward progress. Then she picks my hand up and slaps it down high on my thigh. Oh God. If I squirm even a few inches our overlapping palms will brush my cock.

  "Just a water is fine," she says sweetly, flashing a perfect smile at the bartender.

  "My pleasure," the asshole says with an answering grin, staring at Addison with obvious male appreciate before going to work on our drinks. The dickwad probably spent more time perfecting his floppy, Justin Bieber hair than the woman with waist-length hair did beside me. Fucker. Doesn't he see her practically grabbing my junk?

  Addison's hand stays where it is, so if she wants to play this game, we'll play. I slide my hand out from under hers so that the warmth of her palm is now burning me through my khakis. She still doesn't retreat, so I cover her dainty hand and start slowly, sensually rubbing up and down my thigh, coming closer and closer to my cock with every pass. The bastard between my legs swells and rises to attention, trying to get a bad touch. I barely swallow down my groan before it escapes.

  "That's enough, Jake-ass," Addison grits out softly between her clenched teeth.

  "What?" I ask innocently, releasing her hand. "If we're going to sell this shit then it's supposed to look like we can't keep our hands off each other."

  "Here you go," the bartender says when he sits our drinks down on the little square napkins in front of us. "Let me know if you need anything else." Then he winks, actually fucking winks at Addison, and she beams back at him like he hung the moon. Oh come on!

  I whip out my wallet and throw down some bills, more than enough for our drinks. "Keep the change. It must be tough working for tips since so many assholes probably short you."

  The college kid's clean-shaven jaw ticks when he finally glares at me instead of drooling over Addison's cleavage. "Yeah, it is, but unfortunately not all of us can juggle balls one day a week for a ridiculous amount of money. Som
e of us have to actually work to put ourselves through medical school."

  Fucker. So he knows who I am and he thinks he has a chance with my girl?

  "What type of medicine are you studying and where?" Addison asks, interrupting our pissing contest.

  "Pathology at UNC's Charlotte campus," Dr. McDreamy-wanna-be answers with a megawatt smile when he turns back to Addison.

  "Oh wow, that's impressive. I graduated from Wake Medical with a specialization in psychiatry."

  "So not only are you beautiful, but you're also incredibly smart, the total package," he tells her with a cheesy smile and a stunning blush spreads over Addy’s ivory cheeks.

  I'm starting to feel like I'm a bystander on this “date”, and it's pissing me off. So I decide it's time to interrupt.

  "She's also a sexy little freak in bed. Don't let the classy exterior fool you. You wouldn't believe the kinky shit she begs me to do to her with whips and chains," I intercede. "Actually, I think that's a little bit of my, well you know..." I swipe my thumb over the corner of Addison's painted lips, unable to prevent my shit-eating-grin at the furious expression on her gorgeous face. Golden eyes squinting in anger, it's a wonder she hasn't bitten the tip of my finger off yet.

  "Then I better go freshen up in the bathroom, honey," she mutters before hopping down from the stool. Then I watch her sway her hips in a fantastic way with her departure.

  "You really are the asshole the media makes you out to be," the jerk behind the bar says, pulling my eyes from her ass when Addison's out of earshot.

  "Yeah, I am. But guess which asshole she'll be going home with tonight. Here's a hint, it sure as fuck won't be you." Only because Addison is being paid to be with me. The thought that she'd drop me for this douchebag in a heartbeat if she wasn't makes me so angry that I want to send this bastard to dental school after I knock his fucking teeth out.