Bet You're Mine (Slippery Curves Series Book 3)

  Table of Contents

  Bet You're Mine

  Copyright

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  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Epilogue

  Stalk me...

  Bet You’re Mine

  The Slippery Curves Series

  Book 3

  Copyright

  First Edition, May 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Adele Niles

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  License

  This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.

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  About This Book

  Bet You’re Mine

  ’ve never really loved my job, but being a blackjack dealer has its advantages.

  Tips for one.

  Every day I’m one step closer to my dream of owning my own business.

  And then Abel Morris sits down at my table.

  One look at him and all bets are off.

  He’s older and irresistible, and I’d thought he’d never give a curvy younger girl like me a second thought.

  And then he showed up at my table, again.

  This time, he made the bet of a lifetime, and I went all-in.

  Bet You’re Mine is an older, alpha male, younger, curvy girl romance that will show you what Sin City is all about.

  This book contains an older, over the top alpha, a hot younger curvy girl with all the right moves, instalove and enough steam to make you run for an ice cold shower.

  Buckle your seatbelt, because there are slippery curves ahead in this new series from Adele Niles that makes for a perfect sizzling hot steamy short read novella. Wrecked is Book 2 in the slippery curves series about sexy, curvy girls and the alpha men that love them.

  WARNING: This book contains a plot, character connection AND instalove with steamy scenes. Prepare to suspend your disbelief and enjoy a HEA with no cheating.

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  One

  Jodee

  Peach velvet. Perfect. No survivors.

  I smiled as I continued to make notes in the binder where I kept my recipes. The peach velvet was a new one; I’d taken the first batch to work this afternoon, and by the time I went to the break room for my first breather, they were all gone. Not even a crumb left in the carrier.

  I wasn’t upset about that at all.

  I put the carrier in the sink to wash later. I normally changed out of my work uniform first, but making sure the cupcake recipe got noted and put under the ‘save’ tab of my binder was way more important.

  But that was done, and it was time to get comfy. I glanced down at myself as I walked down the hall toward my bedroom, purse still slung over my shoulder. The button-down blouse and vest fit snug around my curves. The blouse was half-open, exposing more of my cleavage than I was comfortable with, but having my tits out got me better tips.

  Skeezy guys liked dealers with their tits out.

  The skirt was too short and tight. I had to wear thongs under it—even seamless panties showed a line, and that was unattractive. I wore it with fishnets; thankfully, since I was behind the table all day, I was allowed to wear flats.

  But even the expensive flats with the cushioned insoles didn’t save my back from aching by the end of the night.

  I sighed heavily and sat down on my bed, kicking off my shoes. For a moment, I just laid back, closing my eyes.

  I was glad I had a little time off.

  Maybe the reason I had time off wasn’t ideal, but it would be good to get away from the casino for a little while.

  Right, the casino. The tips.

  I sat up and smiled, opening my purse. The envelope was tucked inside, like always. I opened it and counted, then counted again. It was mostly in fives and tens, with a few twenties sprinkled throughout.

  One fifty-five.

  Nice.

  I hopped up, suddenly energized, and went to my vanity table. I grabbed the lockbox from the table and entered the combination, silently mouthing the numbers.

  The box popped open and I took a deep breath. I grabbed the notebook off the top first, then looked inside.

  That was a lot of money.

  One hundred and seven thousand dollars. Most of it was in hundreds already, banded together in stacks of ten.

  This box was my ticket out of here, as soon as I filled it up.

  I opened the notebook on the top, flipping through pages until I reached the half-full one I was working on. I wrote the date, and the amount I’d earned today. The cash went with the rest, and I put the notebook back.

  Maybe another year and half, and I could get the hell out of Vegas.

  Or at least quit my job at the Nugget. It had been eight long years of getting ogled and hit on, of having to deal with handsy old men and jealous wives. I’d worked there since I was twenty-one; it was good money, but I wanted to be able to do something else.

  I wanted to get my bakery open and be successful doing something I loved.

  Sighing, I put the lockbox back on my vanity, then dug my phone from my purse and unlocked it. Three hours until my flight. I had to be at the airport soon.

  Good thing my bags were already packed.

  I’d have just enough time to shower and change before I had to get my ride to the airport.

  I undressed, tossed my uniform in the hamper, and walked to the bathroom naked. The hot water felt good on my skin, and I closed my eyes in pleasure.

  I didn’t really want to be catching this flight, but I couldn’t keep putting it off.

  Mom’s house wasn’t going to clean itself, and there was so much I had to sort through.

  It had only been a few months, and it still hurt like hell to go back to her house and know she wasn’t there.

  I wanted to keep the place; it was a nice house, and it contained a lot of good memories. Even if my mom and I had had a tumultuous relationship, I loved her. I’d loved her a lot.

  I’d argued with her a lot, though. She’d wanted me to settle down with a man; she always told me I worked in the best place to meet a rich guy who would take care of me.

  It hadn’t ever mattered to her that I didn’t want a rich man to take care of me. I wanted to be a self-made woman, a business owner without any help. I didn’t want to rely on a man to pay the rent on my bakery.

  I fin
ished my shower and dressed in comfy clothes. The flight to California wasn’t long, but I’d still be happier in leggings and a dress than jeans. As I donned my outfit, I looked at my dresser, where the one photo I had of me and my mom sat.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said. She looked pretty in the picture, her gray hair combed back and held in place with a pearl clip. She always wore pearls; Pearl was her name, after all, so she let it be her signature accessory. I smiled, touching the picture. “I’ll be there soon.”

  I turned, taking one last look around my room. I’d packed everything I needed. My phone charger was in my purse already, and I’d brought clothes suitable for sorting through my mom’s stuff. For a moment, I looked to the lockbox on my vanity.

  Maybe I needed a little cash on hand.

  I’d certainly made a good amount of money today. One guy had tipped me fifty dollars—unusual, since I’d been at a low dollar table today.

  He’d been really handsome. Brown hair, blue eyes, dressed in what was probably an Armani suit. He’d been the most polite guy at my table.

  He’d looked at me plenty, but I almost hadn’t minded with him.

  Guys like him were rare at the low dollar tables. He looked like he should have been in the high roller room, but he’d stayed at my table until my shift ended.

  I bit my lip and shook my head, deciding not to take any money out of the lockbox. I moved it to my closet, not wanting my roommate to go snooping.

  With that, I grabbed my bags and headed out. My ride was on its way, and I wanted to be waiting outside when they got to the apartment.

  Two

  Abel

  I loved staying in the Bellagio. It was a stunning hotel; the architecture was beautiful, and the art installations were some of the best on the strip. I especially loved the glass flowers suspended from the ceiling in one of the lobbies.

  But gambling there wasn’t to my taste. I liked the older casinos for gambling; they reminded me of the golden years of Vegas. In the right place, you could almost expect to see Frank Sinatra, Elizabeth Taylor, or one of the Kennedys walk through the door. They were a little dated, but there was still some old Hollywood glamour there. The Nugget was one of my favorites, and quieter than the newer hotels.

  That led to a pretty good amount of luck.

  I let myself into my hotel room and sighed, taking off my Rolex and unbuttoning my suit jacket. I’d had a good night tonight. The table hadn’t allowed high-dollar bets, but it had been fun to sit and gamble without worrying. And in the end, I’d managed to come out a few hundred dollars richer than when I’d walked in.

  Not bad at all.

  I sighed to myself, pulling my phone from my back pocket. I had a voicemail from my assistant, asking me to call her back. I did so, sitting down on my bed.

  “Mr. Morris, hello!” Rachel’s cheery voice came over the line. She was a great assistant—professional, and always excited to do her job.

  “Hey, Rachel,” I said. “How’re things?”

  She chuckled. “San Francisco is quiet without you. But I’m calling with good news! I got confirmations for your meetings tomorrow. Both of the restaurants you were looking at agreed. You have one at ten a.m., the other at two p.m.”

  “Perfect.” I smiled. “How about the paperwork? Where are we on the Ortiz deal?”

  I heard the smile in her voice. “All set. The papers got here today.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” I laughed. “That’s awesome news.”

  Rachel laughed with me. “I’m glad. Hey, how’s Vegas? Have you won big yet?”

  “I had a good day, but I’m just getting warmed up. Had a good run at the Nugget, though.”

  And the girl at the table had been a knockout.

  I thought about her for a moment. Striking blue eyes, wavy brown hair, gorgeous curves. Her uniform had fit her perfectly, hugging her body.

  Her tits had looked fantastic.

  I felt my cock stirring and bit my lip. “Well, Rachel, I’m gonna head to bed. Kinda tired, you know?”

  “Of course. I’ll email you the documents for your meetings tomorrow. Have a good night, sir.”

  “Good night.”

  I hung up the phone and undressed, hanging my suit. I walked into the bathroom of my suite and turned on the shower. The room was soon filled with steam, and I sighed, stepping into the warm water and closing my eyes.

  I pictured the girl from the casino. Gorgeous smile, incredible body. The lipstick she’d been wearing was perfect for her.

  My cock twitched.

  I imagined her smiling as I undressed her, revealing fair skin and ample curves. I guided her to my bed in the suite, laying her down and pushing her legs apart. She moaned as soon as I touched her, already dripping for me.

  “Gorgeous girl,” I murmured out loud, leaning on the shower wall. I stroked myself slowly, lost in the fantasy.

  I wished I’d gotten her name.

  I imagined pushing into her slowly, feeling her heat around my cock. She moaned in response, wrapping both arms around me and pulling me closer to her. My hands moved to her hips, holding her steady as I started to thrust.

  Each time I moved, she moaned, or squealed, her nails digging into my back. She kissed my neck hungrily, but suddenly dropped her head back, moaning out loud as I fucked her harder.

  I grunted with her, my hips slamming forward until I was done. I buried myself deep in her as I came. She shook under me, nails cutting into my shoulder as she held me closer.

  I let go of my softening cock, shifting forward into the water.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled.

  I had to find her again.

  * * * * *

  I was back at the Nugget. The past four days had been busy, but I always came and spent a few hours here at night. It was my favorite place to gamble, and I was still trying to find the mystery girl.

  I was feeling good tonight. I’d closed a few deals, and now I was enjoying a martini while I played blackjack.

  The guy dealing was a dick, though. Older, clearly not that interested in being here. He wasn’t even interacting with his players. I’d still leave him a tip, but not what I tipped most of my dealers.

  I reached for my martini, looking at the cards in my hand. As I looked down, somebody approached the dealer. I looked up, realizing the man who’d just arrived must have been the pit boss.

  “Max, finish this hand, and then you’re done for today. Jodee’s coming to relieve you.”

  Jodee. I hadn’t met anyone by that name in the past few days.

  Maybe it was her.

  We finished the hand. The other guy at the table with me won; I raised my glass toward him, giving him a smile. He deserved it. He’d hit twenty; I’d held at eighteen, and the house had gone over.

  With the hand done, Max left the table. A guard escorted him away, and another guard approached, leading a curvy, brown-haired woman.

  She met my eye and smiled shyly.

  I smiled back.

  It was her.

  I pushed a chip worth fifty dollars forward—the maximum bet for this table. She took it.

  Her fingers brushed mine.

  My cock twitched immediately.

  “Jodee. Good to meet you.”

  Three

  Jodee

  I didn’t really want to be at work tonight.

  Going back to California had been exhausting. I’d spent some time there right after the funeral, but hadn’t been back since. Going through Mom’s stuff had been emotionally draining. It was hard to know what was important, what could get donated or trashed.

  At least nobody else in the family had helped themselves. They were all being kind enough to let me go through things first.

  But it had worn me out, and having to fly back and come straight to the casino wasn’t helping.

  I stood waiting as Max gathered his things. He turned toward me; his expression stayed irritable, but he winked. There was just a little bit of a sparkle in his eyes, and I knew it was mean
t for me. He was a sweet guy, once he got comfortable with people.

  He’d been really good to me right after Mom had died. He and his wife had cooked dinners for me and brought them over, and helped make sure I was doing all right.

  I smiled back at him, then moved to take his place at the table.

  There were two guys at the table. One I didn’t know. The other, I did.

  The hot guy from the other night.

  I smiled at him, taking his chip and placing it in front of me. Our fingers touched and it felt like a spark of static electricity.

  Damn.

  The heat went straight between my thighs. I had barely thought about him while I was in California, but now that I was face-to-face with him again, I had no idea what I was going to do.

  I was on camera. I was being watched from every possible angle, and it was suddenly very difficult to think of anything but getting this guy to bend me over the blackjack table and fuck me.

  I put on the brightest smile I could manage. I had to be professional and get through the next forty minutes. That was all.

  And then he spoke.

  “Jodee. Good to meet you.”

  I shivered. “Hi. Good to meet you, too.”

  He extended his right hand. “I’m Abel Morris.”

  “Jodee Garvin,” I replied, and shook his hand.

  The other guy at the table rolled his eyes. “Quit flirting and deal.”

  I smiled at him and dealt the cards. I liked the blackjack table; it moved quickly, and I was able to chat a little with the players as we went through the game.

  Which was good, because I wanted to talk to Abel. A lot.

  He started the conversation, which was good, since I had no idea what to say. “So, Jodee. Welcome back. I didn’t see you the past few days.”

  Was that creepy? Maybe I should have been bothered, but it was a little flattering, that a guy like this remembered me.

  Maybe he was just good with faces, because he couldn’t be interested in me.

  “I, uh, I was away. Family stuff. Out in California.”