Beginners Luck (Ransom Drysdale)
“Come here, baby,” Rick smirks, pulling you into his lap as you try to steady the drinks he had you fetch.
He sighs as you balance across his lap and he shamelessly runs his hands along your thighs, dipping under the hem of the short dress he picked for you. You glance nervously around the table at the three other men, all watching stoically as he nuzzles your neck.
“Isn’t she pretty, boys? I bet she’s worth more than anything you’re offering tonight.”
You sputter and frown at him, he wouldn’t dare.
“Enough distractions. Place your bet,” the man to your left sneers over his cards, eyes linger on your plunging neckline.
His cold blue eyes meet yours and his lips twist into a haughty smirk. You fidget in Rick’s lap as he chuckles and pulls out his buzzing phone. His laughter dies a few seconds into the call and he absently drags the slice of lemon from his drink across your lower lip as he listens placidly.
“This isn’t a great time. I’m hosting a poker game…” he says while the silent guests watch you part your lips, the tart lemon juice stinging the tip of your tongue.
He grips the back of your head and pulls you into a rough kiss, licking across your sour lips as he hums in delight. He pulls back just as suddenly and pats your ass for you to get up.
“She’s subbing in for me. Sorry gents I gotta take this call.”
You gape at his departure, wanting nothing more than to follow him, away from these stuck up rich boys. The door slams behind him, irritation evident in his curt replies. You know better than to disobey, so you settle into his chair and peek at his cards then the neat row placed at the center of the table.
“I… um – I’ve never really played before. I have seen him play but I’m sorry if I mess up,” you mutter shyly, glancing around the table.
“Oh, Jesus,” the blond rolls his eyes with an annoyed scoff.
“Don’t be a dick, Ransom. We’ll help you out honey, don’t worry,” the greasy haired guy in black winks at you from across the table.
“Thanks,” you return, eyeing Ransom as he huffs angrily.
“I just bet my fucking car and he decides to leave the game now?”
The curly brunette with a mustache, Harry, you believe, smirks and taps his cards on the green felt, “not her fault you’re shit at poker.”
Ransom turns to you and smirks, “why don’t you just go ahead and fold. Wouldn’t want to have him come back to a loss, would you?”
You narrow your eyes at his patronizing tone and raise your chin as you turn to Harry, “how much to call?”
Harry and greasy guy, Adam, go through the rules and help you through the first round until you get a hang of the game. Something they very much regret doing by the end of the next three rounds.
“Beginners luck,” Harry claps Ransoms shoulder, fighting a grin as Ransom fumes beside you.
“This is bullshit,” Ransom growls, tossing his cards on the table as you happily take in the pot to add to your pile.
“What’s bullshit?” Rick asks as he sashays into the room and leans over the back of your chair. “Oh man, did she really beat you all this bad?!”
You preen, a smug smile plastered on your face as you stare back at Ransom. “Yup!” You pop the p and hop up to let him take back his chair.
“That’s my girl, for that I think you deserve a present,” Rick pinches your chin, dangling Ransom’s car keys in front of your face. He kisses your cheek and you squeal in excitement while Ransom seething in silent rage.
—
You check your phone as you wait for the Valet to bring your car around. Once again, Rick leaves your date early but is sure to slip his credit card across the table with a goodbye kiss to the cheek, “go buy something pretty. I’ll see you tonight.”
You’re disappointed, you hate sitting in the restaurants alone and shopping alone doesn’t sound much better. Maybe an afternoon at the spa instead? Rick will never notice if what you wear is new, it never stays on long anyway.
“Miss?” The valet greets and you trade a tip for the keys before settling in to the drivers seat.
You make it to the exit of the parking lot, pausing to check your mirrors before you gasp at the sight of someone sitting up in the back seat. You turn to look, a startled scream catching in your throat as the cool blade of a knife catches under your chin.
“Ransom,” your eyes widen as he easily pins you to the chair with one hand and flourishes a knife with the other.
“You really thought I’d let you keep my car?” He hisses in your ear.
“Please, don’t,” you gulp as he drags the flat of the blade along your jaw. “Take the car, please!”
“Oh, no,” he sneers. “You don’t get off that easy. Drive.”
He points left and with a whimper you follow his directions out of the city center and off the highway until you reach an abandoned overlook. He orders you to turn off the car and pockets the keys before teasing your collarbone with the tip of the blade.
“Now, what you need is a lesson in manners,” his breath is hot on your neck. “Rick might turn a blind eye to your bullshit … but me?” His teeth graze your earlobe as he uses the knife to cut the thin strap of your sundress. “I know how to deal with a brat when I see one.”
You shiver as the soft fabric falls down your chest, exposing the thin lace bra you wore for Rick. Oh god, Rick.
“Rick is going to kill you for this,” you warn through clenched teeth.
The point of the knife flicks back up under your chin, shutting you up as he hums in thought, “really? Because it seemed to me like he was willing to offer you up the other night. If you hadn’t gotten lucky with those last few hands you might have been coming home with me.”
He draws back, releasing you from the seat and directs you to get out of the car. He follows closely as you cling to your torn dress, heels scuffing the dirt as you stumble away from him. The door slams and he struts toward you, sheathing his knife somewhere behind him.
You freeze, terrified of him herding you over the ledge, but he pulls you toward him instead. Hands on your hips, he spins you to face the cityscape. His warm fingers tickle up your arm before wrapping securely around your throat.
“Don’t let the romantic spot fool you. I didn’t bring you here to show you a good time,” his grip tightens around your neck as he guides you back to the car where he roughly bends you over the hood of his prized BMW.
He ignores your pleas, pressing his hand to your head to keep your cheek flat against the hot metal. With his other hand he flips up your dress and pulls down your panties, the fabric digging into your skin as he tugs impatiently.
The soft tip of his cock slides up and down your folds, gathering the slick that you refuse to acknowledge. You bite your lip, tensing in anticipation for the intrusion that never comes. You peek over your shoulder and he smirks at your wide watery eyes, like he’s waiting for you to crack.
“I bet I can last longer than you,” he grins as he continues to play with you, one hand circling your clit while the other squeezes your ass.
His thumb presses softly to your asshole, poking in ever so slowly until you are practically keening in desperation. You knock your forehead against the hood, trying to resist the two words threatening to escape. His thumb eases all the way in, as he squeezes one cheek, nails digging in deliciously as his tip presses softly to your entrance, waiting.
You groan at the way your walls clench around nothing, thighs dripping with wasted arousal until you finally yield with a pathetic, “fuck me!”