DOUBLE OR NOTHING by JC Wells
The High Rollers Series
Dateless, Sam still expects her best friend’s New Year's Eve wedding to go without a hitch. The one magical night a year has other ideas, and they come in the form of Eric Christianson.
Eric has everything—money, looks, and the title “High Roller.” When he coaxes the beautiful Sam into one night of passion, sparks fly and revelations become clear.
Bets are made, everything is a gamble. When chances rest on pure luck, the jackpot is in reach... will they double or walk away with nothing?
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Sam placed a hand on his chest because she couldn’t resist the temptation to touch him. “Are you a poet Eric?”
Placing his hand on top of hers, he laughed. “I try, but I think I should keep my day job.”
Sam couldn’t help the snicker that left her lips. “And what is your day job?”
The look Eric gave her sent chills across her arms and a spasm of warmth through her core. The look belonged in the bedroom, not on the dance floor of a wedding reception. Suddenly, she felt surrounded by him, his presence drowning her in the scent of Ralph Lauren and something entirely male.
Eric laced their fingers together and brought the back of her hand up to his lips. “How about I show you personally,” he offered, following his move by placing a soft kiss against her skin.
Sam was calm and collected on the outside, but inside, she was doing back flips. Wedding Crashers got nothing on this bitch! She didn’t even have to try, and yet here she was the object of Eric’s interest. Still, while she was eager to race from the room and follow Eric wherever he led her, she did have one concern.
“What about the wedding? Don’t you think they would notice if a bridesmaid suddenly just disappeared?” she asked, her eyes glancing past him to the dance floor where Anya and Torrance were once again swaying to the music.
Eric sidestepped so Sam was forced to either stare at his chest or meet his gaze. Though she lingered on his chest, her eyes zeroing in on the gap he’d left in his button-up shirt that showed a bit of skin, it wasn’t long before her eyes trailed back up to meet his gaze. “I don’t think they will mind. We can try to make it back before they cut the cake.”
Sam smiled slowly. “Is that a promise?”
Eric took their glasses and set them aside on a nearby table before taking her hand and leading her towards the wide double doors he had entered through earlier. “I never said it was a promise. I said try.”