The Winner Takes Her

<p>It was a game of risk and desire. I lost-and he intends to collect.</p><p><br> </p><p>Ashley: </p><p>Las Vegas was supposed to be a new beginning. I arrived with dreams tucked into a suitcase and pointe shoes I'd bled in for years. But before I could even find my footing the ballet company folded. Just like that-gone.</p><p>Bills don't care about broken dreams though. So I did what any desperate girl with a sharp mind and a busted heart would do: I played cards. High stakes poker. Fast money if you're good. Dangerous if you're not.</p><p>Then he sat across the table. Patrick O'Lachlan. The name alone carries weight but it's the man who unsettled me. Irish arrogant devastatingly composed-he watched me with a kind of amused intensity that made my skin flush. Every glance from him felt like a caress I hadn't consented to but couldn't resist.</p><p>He wore his tux like it was part of his skin. Broad shoulders a chest made for sin and the kind of thighs a dancer dreams about-for balance for power for pressing you against the wall while your world tilts sideways.</p><p>And yes I saw it.</p><p>Yes that.</p><p>The outline beneath tailored black wool enough to make my breath catch mid-play.</p><p>I was distracted. Almost undone.</p><p>But I didn't walk away. Because maybe I didn't want to win.</p><p>Maybe I wanted to lose-if it meant surrendering to him breathless and aching as he claims his prize.</p><p><br> </p><p>Patrick:</p><p>She walked into the room like she owned it. Confidence worn like lipstick subtle but unmistakable. Ashley Finnegan. All long limbs lush curves and a defiance that sparked like flint on steel.</p><p>She couldn't have been more than twenty but she held herself with a grace most women twice her age never learned. There was something tragic in her smile-something that told me she wasn't just playing poker for fun. No she needed this. And that only made me more intrigued.</p><p>I have a taste for dangerous games. And Ashley? She was playing one she didn't fully understand. Betting her body on a hand she couldn't win. But I let her try.</p><p>Because I knew the moment our eyes locked-she was mine. Her mouth might say no but her body was already whispering yes.</p><p>I warned her.</p><p>Never wager what you're not prepared to lose.</p><p>Now I own her curves.</p><p>And I'm going to take what belongs to me-inch by inch moan by moan until she forgets she was ever playing a game at all.</p>