Blackjack Crossing Golf Course Novels & Stories

Emerald nodded, happily following the Alpha's twin out of the box. They waved goodbye to Maddox, Cobb, and Nesha, who were perfectly content to stay seated and wait for the official climbing scores to be tallied. The festival grounds were in full swing now. As they navigated through the crowds, the air was filled with the sharp thwack of arrows hitting targets down at the archery and shooting ranges. They passed the massive, churned-up mud of the tug-of-war pit, which was currently being used for the "crossword games"—a hilariously chaotic event where teams of wolves had to sprint across the pit carrying massive, heavy wooden letter blocks to spell out pack trivia answers before the opposing

“You’re playing for your life now. Don’t choke.” He swallowed hard, his eyes darting back to the ball. He swung, and the club sliced through the air with a whiff, missing the ball completely. Marco snorted a laugh, and Scott shook his head, grinning. While Lorenzo and Niko just couldn't find amusement in anything. We were moving toward the next hole, the click of golf cleats on grass filling the air. Briggs was dragging behind, his face a sickly shade of gray, sweat glistening on his brow. Niko and Scott flanked him, subtly boxing him in.

She showered, put on the outfit Richard had left for her, a tiny white tennis skirt and crop top, no underwear and met the men for breakfast. "Today, we're playing golf," Michael announced. "Nine holes. And you're the caddy." "I don't know anything about golf," Isabella said. "You don't need to," David said with a grin. "You just need to look good bending over." They walked to the private nine-hole course, Isabella carrying a bag of clubs, very aware that every time she bent over to set down the bag or retrieve a club, her ass was completely visible under the tiny skirt.

Nothing about this was normal anymore. We finally pulled into a long driveway lined with trimmed hedges and tall pine trees. A large sign ahead read: *Willow Hills Golf Club.* I frowned. “A golf club?” “Yeah,” Bryson said. “Strange, I know. But it’s safe. Discreet.” The entrance opened into a sleek lobby with polished marble floors and golden lighting. A few men in suits were lounging around, their eyes shifting toward us as we walked in. And then their eyes landed on me.

A calmly bold voice replied. The female assistant left and returned afterwards with a young man who didn't hesitate to take his seat across from this old man. They were seated in the VIP section of the richest clubhouse in BlackBeth— CLASSIC SIN. The young man peered down at the play cards on the table, aside from these cards also stood a board chess. Used cigarettes and new notes of dollars were also left carelessly unkept. The only thing this young man reached was the bottle of champagne beside the old man.

She reluctantly threw it on the pile. “I warned you couldn’t afford me,” Grayson reminded her. Ebony flashed him the finger. Now it came down to Ash. He rubbed his long fingers across his chin, looked at his cards, then back at Grayson. “I’ll raise you little Godwin. 3 Gs. May the best man win.” “Or woman!” said Amber. “My mistake. I apologize to the ladies. May the best man or woman win. Leo, show your cards.” Leo threw down a flush which had Ebony bitching. She threw down her cards revealing a straight before she drank the wine straight from the bottle. Amber set her full house down on the table with a grin. But Ash cleared his throat and flashed his four of a kind in her direction.

Moments later, Abel held her against his chest, stroking her nipples to rigid pebbles as Drake slipped his hard cock inside her and thrust deep . Pleasure cascaded through her, as Abel eased his prick into her ass. She wondered if Lori would help her find a match for Abel . Passion washed the thought away as an orgasm surged through her . ☆☆☆☆ Hot Massage::: The lobby hadn’t changed that much since the last time I’d been at Greenmeadow Golf & Country Club. The place definitely leaned heavier into the Country Club than any other place in the area, and its longstanding reputation as the playground of the local wealthy and elite was well deserved. Daily brunch service, multiple pools, tennis co

I whispered. He offered his arm. “Let them see.” And just like that, we stepped into the night—a storm dressed in black silk and dominance. The Cross Foundation Gala was less an event and more a carefully staged performance of power. Held at The Blackstone—the Hamptons’ crown jewel—it didn’t just impress. It warned. Every detail dripped with restraint and decadence: black lacquered tables gleamed like oil under the warm flicker of onyx candles, each flame mirrored in smoked crystal glassware. The scent of dark roses and aged bourbon drifted through the air, threading between murmured conversations and the quiet, arrogant hum of old money and even older secrets.

Adrea followed Aris in her car to his casino. Once they had gotten there and had passed off their vehicles to the valets, they went in. The place never stopped being busy. Sure, it was not as packed as the nights Adrea had been there but there were people at the tables. “Don’t get distracted,” Aris told her when he realised that she was lagging behind looking at a table where an old lady was playing blackjack.

~ Tina POV ~ "Ma'am, another drink?" The cocktail waitress leaned over my shoulder, her voice cutting through the casino's relentless chiming and clicking. I didn't look up from the blackjack table. Couldn't. My hands were shaking too badly, and I needed them steady for the next hand. "Whiskey. Double." The cards blurred in front of me. Twenty-three thousand down in two hours. Jesus Christ, Tina. What are you doing?