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Rolling the Dice (fm:romantic, 2648 words)

Author: Wildfire8470 Picture in profile
Added: Aug 18 2025Views / Reads: 324 / 282 [87%]Story vote: 9.44 (4 votes)
Jamie is a waitress at the Hard Rock Casino where she meets Casteil, a Russian owner of many casinos. He offers her intrigue, employment, and passion.
 


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"About two years, give or take a month or two."

"Were you born in New York," she queried.

"No, I'm originally from Russia."

Jamie swallowed hard, slightly fearful. All she knew of Russia was that they were the enemy of the U.S. He focused gray eyes on her, asking, "Do you get any perks with your job?"

Jamie was confused. "Perks?"

"Yes, like a free stay at the Hard Rock Hotel, or anything like that?"

She laughed nervously, "No. Nothing like that."

"Oh," he questioned, perplexed. "No box seats for the theatre. Absolutely nothing?"

Jamie stared at the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her whole. "No. No seats at the theatre."

"That's a shame," he said. "I own casinos in several countries, including one not far from here. My employees make exceptional money, with all the perks. Would you consider coming to work for me?"

"Um, I don't know. Tell me about the perks."

"Free hotel stay, a suite with a jacuzzi, personal in-room massage therapist, theater tickets and seats, midnight cruise on Tampa Bay, bonuses."

"Wait. Stop! You had me at ‘massage'. I'm in, but I will have to give two weeks' notice," she stated happily. "What's the starting wage?"

"$28.00 per hour," he said, stabbing a piece of filet mignon.

"No shit! Seriously?"

"Seriously, and you would get to work for a fabulous boss: me," he smirked.

Jamie was winded. "I'll give notice tomorrow.

"Good. I'm looking forward to seeing much more of you. May I take you to dinner and a show tomorrow, or has some young man already snapped up your weekend?"

"I'm free, and I would love that."

"Wonderful. You're not married or otherwise spoken for. Correct?"

"Correct."

"Do you have children?"

"No."

"Good. On occasion, and after you know me a little better, I will ask you to join me for short trips. Do you have a passport?"

"I don't," she whispered.

"No matter. We'll get you one."

Her head was spinning, and she needed him to slow down.

"What brought you to Hard Rock tonight?"

"I was just out of a meeting which didn't go exactly as planned. I needed to blow off some steam. Then I saw you, and had a whole new reason to be hot under the collar."

Jamie blushed furiously, folded her hands in front of her, and focused her gaze there.

Casteil took her hand and inspected her ring finger.

"What," she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, actually. If you were lying, I would have found a tan line where a wedding ring belongs."

"Oh, no. I never married."

"Am I to presume that every man in your city is just blind or daft?"

She laughed, "No. There are no men in my city. They're all little boys in men's clothing. They have nothing I want."

"I see," he said, thoughtfully. "Wise woman. That's a very smart discernment."

Jamie squirmed in her seat. Praise and compliments were utterly foreign to her.

"I'm going to the beach after dinner. I know it's late, but I would like it if you would join me. It's a full supermoon tonight."

He leveled gray eyes at her, and she thought it over, worrying her lower lip. I don't work again until Monday evening, and I don't have a reason not to, but I'm scared. Why the hell am I scared? He's sweet. He's kind. He's obviously well off. He treats me well. I really, really like him. Oh! That's why. The last time I felt this way, it ended in complete disaster... but I really, really do like him. She wavered between yes and no, with her heart breaking, and took a deep breath.

"Thank you for the invitation, but I'd better get home."

Casteil studied her, discerning her insecurity, and he squeezed her hands reassuringly. "How about this? I'll stop and get your favorite snack, a bottle of wine, and you join me for one glass. Then, if you still want me to, I'll take you home. Yes?"

"I don't know."

He tilted her chin and kissed her softly. "One drink. What do you say?

Jamie laughed at him, "You really are persuasive. I can't imagine your meeting not going as expected."

"Well, if I had met with you, perhaps it would have been an entirely different outcome. One drink?"

"Okay," she breathed, thinking, against my better judgment.

He drove to a tall hotel on Clearwater Beach, and parked, explaining, "I have a reservation here. We can stay as long as you want."

Casteil retrieved a large beach blanket, several glasses, snacks, and a bottle of wine, as promised, and they walked to the beach.

There was a light breeze with a huge, yellow moon, and the tide was high, with waves crashing down on the beach. She sat on the blanket, hugging her knees, eyes closed, face into the breeze, and remembered why she loved the ocean.

Waves rose up high and crashed rhythmically, slapping the sand like a lover staking its claim, and dragging a portion back to sea, an erotic, powerful, sadistic dance, and she wondered, how does the ocean love the salt earth? Eternally.

He filled the wine glasses and watched her closely. "You look completely at peace. The ocean agrees with you."

"Yes. I'd forgotten how the sound of waves settles me. We don't get waves further north where I live."

He handed her a glass and put his arm around her. "I'll bet there's one or two other things that can settle your soul, Jamie."

"Perhaps" she whispered, not picking up his queue. The wind teased her long, red hair, and she sipped the wine, realizing that she no longer felt frightened.

She breathed in the salt sea air, letting her worries blow away with the breeze, and lifted the glass to her lips. He tipped it higher, forcing her to drain the glass, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her hard.

Casteil pushed her down on the blanket and laid on top of her. He kissed her deeply, and she held palms against his chest, a reflex to aid a quick escape, but he laced his fingers through hers, and nailed her hands to the blanket.

He undid blouse buttons, pushing a hand beneath the fabric, exploring her breasts, and she realized it had been too many years since she'd felt the weight of a man this way.

She arched her hips to feel his hardened manhood between her thighs, and she craved him. He kissed her neck, finding the place that made her weak, and bruised her there.

Casteil debated taking her right there, but he feared discovery and police intrusion.

Jamie was aware that she had pushed luck as far as it would go, thinking I should have demured. I should have gone home. What am I doing? This is insane. It's certain to end badly.

He rolled to her side and pulled her up next to him, saying, "Come."

He helped her up, gathered the blanket, and took her hand, tugging her with him into the hotel. She followed his lead, wondering if she was writing checks that her body couldn't cash, and remembered how long she'd been celibate. Ten years, Jamie. Ten! Do you really think you're up for this?

Jamie stepped into his room, nervously, and asked, "Do you want to have another glass?"

"Anything you wish, Jamie."

He took her to the bedroom, instructing her, "Relax. Get comfortable. I'll get the wine."

He knew she was scared, and took pains to comfort her, fluffing several large pillows, and holding her close. He could scarcely believe that this timid creature was the same woman he'd nearly had sex with in public moments ago, and he wondered what had happened to her.

He urged her to disrobe, and laid propped against the headboard, with her head tucked into his shoulder, and began again, "May I ask how long it's been since you were intimate with a man?"

"Long time," she whispered.

He ran his fingers through her hair, questioning, "It's okay, Jamie. What happened a long time ago?"

"No. I can't. I need to go."

She sat upright and he pulled her down gently. "Don't do that. Stay with me."

"But..."

"No buts. Stay with me." He kissed her deeply and she collapsed against him. Holding her tightly, he whispered, "I know you want this. Tell me what makes you run."

She focused on the bedspread, silent. Casteil tipped her chin up, locking eyes with her. "I know you want me. Your body proves how much. Why are you fighting this?"

"I can't talk about that."

"How long is ‘a long time ago?'"

She stared hard at her feet. "Ten," she whispered.

"Weeks?"

She shook her head.

"Months?"

She shook her head.

"Years?"

She nodded affirmatively.

"Holy! Seriously? Honey, come here."

He pulled her into his embrace, whispering, "He cut you to the bone?"

"Yes."

"I'll protect you, love. You're safe with me."

Jamie recognized genuine compassion and safety, and she snapped. Something primal took over.

She straddled him, trapped him against the headboard, and kissed him deeply, ripping his shirt open, and drove her fingers into his hair.

He crushed her to him, not knowing what had just changed, and not caring. He moved to pin her to the bed, and laid on top of her, spied his belt, grabbed it, and anchored her wrists over her head. Kneeling between her thighs, he drank in her nude body, thinking, Jesus, I really didn't realize how much the waitress uniform hid!

He grabbed an ice cube from the bucket, and dragged it from breastbone to abdomen, watching her squirm and shiver. Just watching her, lost in abandon, seeing her surrender to him, was nearly his undoing.

He dragged the ice over her clitoris, and she cried out, arching her spine, and trying to squirm away. He held her still, and cupped her pussy, driving two fingers into her depths, fingering her fast and deep. She threw her head back, and he asked, "Almost, baby girl?"

"Don't stop!"

"I've got what you need, but you can't have it until I've taken you to the edge."

"Please, I need your hardness in me," she begged.

"No, my love. You're not ready yet."

"But I am! I'm so ready!"

Casteil added a finger with every thrust, slammed his fist into her aching cunt, then drove his manhood into the hilt, and proceeded to torment her.

He thrusted slowly, forcing her to arch her spine, wanting to feel him skin to skin, needing the weight of him on top of her, saying, "I knew you wanted this. Look at you. You were scared for nothing," and drove into her depths hard, forcing her to be still, trapped beneath him.

An electric current ripped through her extremities and she wound her legs around him, needing to claim him, but he held her just out of reach of climax, and she wanted to scream her frustration. Then he began again, raking fingers over her heated skin, sliding his hands up to grip her sides, and forced her to him.

Jamie screamed softly and arched her hips up to meet him, beginning an unstoppable rhythm, with both of them moving like ocean waves, consummate, and consumed by passion, tumbling into the flames.

He gripped her buttocks and slid his hands up her back, lifting her against him. She held on, clinging to him, as he buried his hard length in her, impaling her again and again.

With her breathing fast and shallow, he crushed her to him, and she pushed up and dropped onto him, loving the feel of his hardness filling her, and she craved even more.

They increased intensity, and she cupped his face, looking directly into his eyes, needing to find a promise there, and they fell into climactic fulmination. Even in the aftermath, he didn't release her, and she couldn't let go... not yet. Perhaps, not ever.

They laid down, still holding each other, and he whispered, "You see. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Jamie explained as best she could, "You met me where I was at. You understood, and that made it safe for me. No one's ever done that before."

Casteil held her closely, whispering, "Let's rest for a while, and I'll do it again."

Jamie smiled softly, closed her eyes. They fell asleep with Casteil's leg thrown over her, and arms around her. The posture was possessive, non-threatening, intimate, and she realized that her world had shifted.

Her focus was no longer on the nearest and quickest exit. Instead, she was focused solely on how to stay, how to see him again, and how to keep up with his voracious sexual appetite, and she smiled, with her heart near to bursting, thinking of how much fun the effort would be.

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