Free With His Love (For His Pleasure, Book 16) by Kelly Favor

not just staying temporarily. The layout was similar to the penthouse suite, only without a basketball court.
    But Patrick’s bar had a real live bartender pouring and mixing drinks—and of course, she was a total knockout, wearing a t-shirt that seemed to be trying and failing to contain her enormous breasts.
    And she wasn’t the only gorgeous, scantily clad woman in the place. The hotel room seemed filled with women that were parading around, flaunting their assets to anyone and everyone.
    There were men, too, mostly older business types that ogled the women while drinking and talking about money.
    Patrick led her past all of this commotion and into a large room that was much more controlled, almost peaceful. In this room was the poker game, and it seemed that Patrick was trying to keep the environment tranquil for his players.
    There were seven players at the table, including Red. Each of them had stacks of different colored chips in front of them, and some even had bundles of cash in front of them on the table.
    Her first thought was that it just looked sleazy. Her next thought was that she didn’t trust Patrick, nor did she trust any game he was hosting.
    There was no reason for her fears—it was just an instinctive suspicion—but she found herself resisting the urge to run over to Red and beg him to leave with her immediately.
    Patrick leaned over and whispered in her ear. “He’s doing well—up probably close to half a million dollars right now.”
    Nicole’s breath caught in her chest. “Are you serious?”
    “I am.”
    She could smell the strong scent of liquor on his clothes and breath. She moved a step forward to get away from him.
    “You can go say hello to him,” Patrick said. “Just wait for the hand to finish up.”
    “How will I know when it’s over?”
    “You’ll see. Just watch.”
    The dealer, a thin older man with a blank expression, had just laid three cards down in the center of the table.
    A young looking black man in a tilted cap and baggy clothes tossed a handful of chips out.
    “That’s Bill The Chill,” Patrick whispered, leaning forward now.
    “Who’s he again?” she asked, curious despite herself.
    “Only considered the toughest all-around player alive. Balls of steel, excuse my French. He just bet fifteen thousand dollars. Watch ‘em fold.”
    Around the table five of the other players folded. When it came to Red, he seemed to be thinking. Nicole’s heart rate speeded up as she watched him consider what he wanted to do.
    Patrick giggled quietly as time drew out. “Crazy bastard,” he muttered.
    Red pushed a large stack of chips into the center of the table, and the other players took note, sitting up in the chairs and watching Bill’s reaction.
    “What just happened?” Nicole asked, intrigued and frightened.
    “Your crazy husband just raised to forty thousand dollars.”
    Nicole put a hand to her chest. “Why would he do that?”
    “Could be bluffing. Could have a good hand. Could be nuts. I vote option C.”
    Everyone was watching now. The room had gone deadly silent, as Bill stared across the table at Red. Nicole’s mouth had gone dry. She stared at the massive amount of chips sitting in front of these men, trying to calculate how many millions of dollars were being represented in the room.
    It felt dangerous. It felt wrong.
    People would literally murder someone for just a fraction of the money that was changing hands right now.
    Bill folded his hands under his chin and looked down at the three cards on the table, then glanced back at Red. He smiled a little. “No way you picked up aces,” he said.
    Red didn’t respond. He looked still as a statue.
    “I call,” Bill said suddenly, almost casually, pushing more chips into the already mountainous stacks in the middle of the table.
    The dealer did a quick count. “Call twenty-five thousand,” he said. Then he took a card from the deck and placed it next to the other three cards. There were now four cards