“Woohoo!” Kat shrieks.
“You’re on fi-yah, sistah!” Sarah shouts. She shakes her ass into Jonas’ crotch, and he gropes her ass and hips.
The dealer pushes a stack of chips at Kat and she leans over the craps table to collect them—which, of course, gives me the perfect opportunity to ogle her backside. Jesus. That sequined mini-dress of hers is barely longer than a men’s dress-shirt, and holy shit, she’s working ithard. Endless, toned legs. Sky-high heels. Long, tousled blonde hair cascading down her back. And a tight little ass to cap it all off. In summary, the girl is smoking hot. Gorgeous. Sexy. Beautiful. I can’t come up with enough praise to do her justice. She’s physical perfection.
An old dude in a Hawaiian shirt on the other side of Kat leans into her shoulder. “What number ya feeling, Blondie?”
Kat picks up the dice. “I’m not sure,” she answers. “I’m just gonna bet the pass line this time—I’m not getting a vibe.”
“Oh, I’m feeling a six for sure,” Sarah says confidently, wiggling her ass into Jonas’ crotch again. “I’m feeling hellasixyright now, baby.”
Jonas presses himself into Sarah and wraps his arms around her. “Oh, my precious baby’s feelingsixy,is she?”
“Yes, sir, baby-sir,” she says. “Sixy as hell.”
Jonas throws a couple thousand bucks in chips onto the table. “On six,” he says to the dealer, his free hand running up and down Sarah’s torso. “Always bet on Sarah Cruz.”
“Hard or easy six?” Hawaiian Shirt Guy asks Sarah, clearly hanging on her every word.
“Easy,” she answers.
Jonas nibbles her neck and pulls her hips into him forcefully. Jesus. Who the fuck is my brother right now? I’ve never seen him act like this with a woman, ever. He’s acting like...me.
“Oh my,” Sarah says, laughing. “Easy six... and hard...Jonas.”
Jonas bursts out laughing.
Kat and I look at each other, grimacing.
“I don’t know whether to swoon or barf,” Kat whispers to me and I chuckle.
“I’m definitely leaning toward ‘barf,’” I reply.
“Easy six,” Hawaiian Shirt Guy yells to the dealer, jumping on the Sarah-train.
“Me, too,” I say, throwing a couple orange chips onto the table. “And for the lady, too,” I add, throwing a thousand-dollar chip to the dealer for Kat.
“Josh, no. You already gave me plenty of gambling money. I’ll use the money you gave me.”
“Nah, put that away, PG. I’ve got a feeling—trust me.”
In a sudden flurry, every other guy at the table follows suit, throwing their chips onto six, all of them betting on Sarah’s intuition.
Kat picks up the dice. “Jeez, talk about pressure,” she mutters. She tosses the dice onto the table.
Easy eight.
Everyone at the table cheers. It’s not a six, true, but it’s not crapping out, either, which means we’re all still alive.
The dealer quickly distributes winnings on the roll.
“Bets?” the dealer invites.
“Yeah, add this to my six,” I say to the dealer, tossing yet another pumpkin to him. “Plus another one for the lady,” I say, tossing yet another orange thousand-dollar chip onto the table.
Kat looks at me with wide eyes. “No, Josh.Stop. No more.”
I wink. “Humor me,” I say. “I have a feeling.”
