Page 273 of Phobia
“Good thing you called the cavalry, then.” I smile, but I don’t mean it.
Ant’s played at some questionable places with even more questionable people, but something about this set-up feels different.
This club isn’t advertised or inviting, and I doubt the people here play for kicks.
Chapter 5
“Done already?” Frank asks as I leave Spencer’s office.
I nod and walk ahead of him, planning on going straight to the door. I only deal with Spencer out of necessity, and this place is seedy as fuck, even by my standards. Spencer runs a members-only poker club, but it’s a front for fucking the weak over. He’s in the loan shark business and has one of his bottom feeders sat at every table, waiting to offer some poor sod a handout that’s likely to cost him a few fingers when he can’t pay it back.
“Oh, hello,” Frank says, blowing a low whistle.
I turn to see what piqued his interest and follow his leering gaze towards two sets of long legs striding towards one of the tables. A big blonde guy walks ahead of them but is more interested in where he’s going than his companions. Ignoring him, I focus on the tall, silver-haired stunner following him, all long limbs and tits that don’t need a bra to keep them up.
She’s got the sort of flash look that draws the eye, especially in a place like this where the only females are those serving drinks. Pretty as she is, she’s not my style. The last set of legs, however… now they’re worth sticking around for. The second woman’s dark hair grazes her shoulders, highlighting her defined bone structure. She’s not quite as tall as her companion and nothing next to my 6ft 2 frame, but she’s got a face that could tame the wildest of beasts. Defined yet soft, warm yet brutal, her features set firm, warning away anyone who might dare to step into her space.
A true queen, though I suspect she doesn’t know it.
She sways as she walks, and I’m mesmerised by the dip in her waist and the swell of her breasts. My hands get restless, desperate to grip her curves—preferably while I’m thrusting into her.
I make no apology.
“I’m suddenly feeling a little parched.” I grin at Frank, and he chuckles, turning towards the bar where two whiskeys are already being prepared.
“Let me guess… the brunette?”
“You know I’ve always preferred treacle sauce over royal icing.”
We watch them zone in on a man sitting at one of the tables, looking worse for wear. Royal Icing leans in to speak to him, and he seems none too pleased by her presence. Treacle hangs back, looking concerned, as she casts her eyes over the people at the table with him. The miserable fuckers don’t appreciate the interruption to the game, but they seem to be enjoying the view.
Icing continues to argue with the bloke at the table, and then Treacle steps forward, saying something that makes everyone around them laugh. She gives them nothing, no hint of fear or embarrassment, yet for some reason, I find my hackles rising.
“Who ordered the entertainment?” Spencer appears next to me and leans against the bar. Whistling, he gets the attention of the waitress at the table that’s causing the drama, and she hurries over.
She doesn’t need to guess what he wants. “I’m sorry, Spencer. They came with one of the members.” She points to Mr Tall and Blonde. “They’re trying to get Ant Parker to leave.”
“Nobody leaves unless they’ve got nothing or everything. You know that, Lyn.”
“Well, yes… but she offered to take his place.”
Spencer scoffs, “Whichshe?”
“The brunette.”
The brunette.My little Treacle.
“Tell them to fuck-”
“Yes,” I state calmly.
Spencer and Lyn stare at me: Spencer wondering if he heard me right, and Lyn debating which of us she should listen to—her boss ortheboss.
“Let her play.”I want to see what she’s made of.
Spencer stares at me a moment longer before turning to Lyn. “You heard him.”
“Right, Spencer… Dom.” Lyn heads back over, speaks with the group, and the dumb fuck at the table is pulled away, and a goddess takes his place. New cards are dealt, and while the other players go straight in to assess the damage, Treacle’s hand remains face-down.
