Free Hot Dates: Becoming a Shared Wife by Kirsten McCurran

overconfident in just assuming if I sat there some hot guy would come along to sweep me off my feet. I had not even been there an hour, but a sudden crisis of confidence made me move. I left a tip on the bar and moved on out to the casino floor with my drink.
    The casino was hopping and the energy of the crowd calmed my nerves. The slots were busy, but mostly with senior citizens—I was not going to find any fun there. I drifted past the poker and blackjack tables, but those players were focused on their games and the couple cute guys I saw didn’t look like they would notice me. A raucous group was gathered at a roulette table on the end and I joined them.
    The tiny white ball whizzed around the wheel and then clicked as it slowed and finally settled on 22 black. All I knew about roulette was that you put your chips on the table and hope the ball landed on your number, or color, or both. I had no idea about strategy. Dave is the gambler in our family. He loves his poker and craps, while I usually busy myself sitting in front of a slot machine or maybe with a little blackjack. But the energy of the group around the roulette table was infectious and soon I was cheering along with the others when the ball landed—even though I hadn’t placed a bet.
    “You don’t want to play?” The voice was smooth and confident. I turned to my right to see a tall, well-dressed man in his late forties. His hair was black and swept back from a widows peak, the goatee on his handsome face was shot with gray. His sensuous lips were curled into a playful smile.
    “I’m not a huge gambler,” I replied. An anticipatory buzz filled my brain. I could tell by the way his gaze casually swept down to my cleavage and back to my face that he was interested and didn’t feel the need to hide that.
    “This is an odd place for you to be hanging around.”
    “I didn’t say I never gamble. I just don’t do it often.”
    “You don’t like to take risks?”
    “I never said that.”
    “Life without taking risks is boring, isn’t it?”
    “It is. And I’d never want to be boring.” It was all in my head, but it felt like this handsome stranger was speaking directly to my situation. He was probably not a mind reader, though.
    “Then you should try your luck…” He paused, waiting for my name.
    “Dana.”
    “Try your luck, Dana. I’m Charles. Here, let me get you started.”
    Charles took my hand like it was his and pressed a stack of chips into my grasp. This was just the type of forward man I needed. His strong hand on my waist turned me back toward the table. Our bodies brushed together and the rush made that buzz in my brain fill my body. “What should I do?” I asked.
    “It’s easy. Just pick your favorite numbers and put down some chips.”
    I leaned forward and laid down chips on 7 red and 14 black, my anniversary, which I thought was oddly fitting. Charles also leaned forward and his arm went around my waist. My new gentleman friend was not shy at all, and that confidence was exciting. “Now, you don’t just have to bet on single numbers. You can also put down chips over two or four numbers.” He ran his hand down my bare arm, raising goosebumps, and placed it over mine. He guided my hand and I dropped a couple chips at the corner of four numbers. It reminded me of how Dave was when we first met—how he just took possession of me like I was already his.
    The wheel spun and the ball took flight and I won on one of the numbers on my multiple bet. It wasn’t much, but it was exciting to win and I whooped and jumped up and down. The bouncing of my breasts was not missed by Charles who grinned as he took in my charms. I tried to hand the chips back to him, but he insisted I use them to keep playing. He also flagged down a passing cocktail waitress and ordered dirty martinis for both of us.
    “You look like a martini kind of woman,” he commented.
    “But how did you know I like it dirty?” I placed my hand over his on my hip.