The New Game

By G.G. Royale

Josef Ramirez and Connor Fahy have been inseparable ever since Joey nursed Connor back to health after a terrible beating. Over the years, they’ve come up with many cons to make their way in the world, but cheating at cards is their forte. When one of their little scams is exposed, Connor steals the winnings anyway, and the two take off, the gangster they’ve ripped off hot on their heels. Laying low in a ski cabin sounds good, Joey agrees, but the stress of the run is too much for him. Feelings he’s been hiding from Connor for a long time bubble to the surface. The reason Joey’s never run out on Connor isn’t because of simple loyalty, or because of how good they are at cheating together. No, it’s because Joey loves Connor. But can Connor handle these feelings? Will they survive long enough to find out?

• Language: English
• Publisher: CCE Publishing
• Release date: Oct 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370076963

G.G. Royale

G.G. Royale grew up in a small town on the Central Coast of California. She started writing erotica while in college. Her inspiration came from reading a copy of Anais Nin's Little Birds while traveling abroad.She began working as an editor of erotic romance in 2004 with Liquid Silver Books. In 2006, she moved to Loose Id, LLC, where she still works.Currently, she lives on the Island of Hawaii. Ms. Royale has had many short stories published under various names. Her first novella, The Lovely Kittengirls of Mew Orleans, received four cherries from Whipped Cream Reviews, which encouraged her to keep working. After long days at her day job, she comes home and settles down to her computer to work even more. Ms. Royale loves writing in many genres, but particularly historic and BDSM.

Book preview

The New Game

Published by G.G. Royale at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 G.G. Royale

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This ebook was originally published by Dreamspinner Press in 2010.

Chapter One

Joey ran his fingers over the edge of the card, felt the slickness of its plastic coating, the sharp corners. He loved brand new playing cards: how they smelled, how clean they appeared, how crisp. He took a deep breath, careful to make sure the other players read it as a tell rather than the worry about the deception in which he was currently engaged. He felt a light tug on the card under the table. He let it go. Next to him, Connor talked to one of Rupert Sporich’s goons, Pete, another player in on the double-cross. Pride filled Joey. No one at the table would know that Connor had just taken a card from him. No one would be able to tell. They’d run this cheat so many times that it went off seamlessly. Still, he always felt nervous. Not necessarily over getting caught, but about what Connor would say or do if Joey was the reason they were exposed. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his partnership with Connor. He sent up a prayer to the Virgin Mary, thanking her for making things go so well so far.

Why that was, Joey didn’t want to think about. Sure, he knew. He knew exactly why he stayed up late nights in the hotel room they shared, unable to sleep in his twin bed, staring at Connor across the small divide between them that seemed like a canyon. How many nights had he thought about crossing that divide, climbing into Connor’s bed, and confessing—no, showing—his feeling for the man? Too many to count. A band closed around his heart. He could never tell Connor how he really felt. The man would probably flatten him and leave him for dead. They certainly wouldn’t play cards together anymore.

Stay sharp, Josef, he told himself. He couldn’t let his unrequited love get the better of him now. He had to focus on the game, on the intricacies of the graft. A trickle of sweat rolled down his back. The small industrial garage where the game took place didn’t have air conditioning, but Joey knew the sweat didn’t come entirely from the heat.

Sporich had heard Joey and Connor knew how to play cards, but Joey figured he probably didn’t realize the entire truth. He’d brought them in to help take the big gull across the table for everything he was worth. Split it four ways, he’d said: Sporich, Pete, Connor, and Joey. Joey let his eyes move toward the two cowhide bags—Holstein hair on and everything—the dupe had thrown onto a couch. Supposedly they were full of unmarked fifties and hundreds. He didn’t doubt it, looking at the poser dressed all in white, like some kind of cliché comic-book cowboy. He’d come to Vegas on a private jet—he’d made sure everyone heard that—looking for a big game. A game bigger than could be found on the Strip.

Joey threw a few chips in the pot and returned to his musing. He didn’t think big rollers like this Dallas guy actually existed, ones with enough money and stupid enough to take part in a game like this. That only happened in movies.

He heard Connor spout off one of their cue phrases to Pete. Joey glanced at his watch. Thirteen seconds and he’d reach under the table, make some crass comment about scratching his balls, and take the card Connor would pass to him.

Their process seemed cliché, almost too simple to work, but it did, probably because they were as good actors as card players.

Joey reached under the table, found the card without fumbling, and then heard, What are you guys doing? What’s go—Oh shit.

Cherrie Dubel. Joey couldn’t hide his surprise as he turned to see her entering the room, the bright sun from outside streaming in around her. She held bags of burgers and a tray of drinks. The willowy blonde’s eyes had gone wide, and their focus landed right on the card, both Connor’s and Joey’s fingers still grasping it. Joey’s heart leaped into his throat. She’d caught their cheat.

Oh shit, Joey echoed quietly, and his gaze met Connor’s. Regret filled the big, ginger-haired ex-boxer’s eyes. This would ruin them. Connor glanced at Cherrie and shook his head.

Oh shit, she said again and dropped the drinks. Shakes and sodas splattered all over the gray concrete floor. Joey heard chairs scraping back, but he couldn’t look at the others at the table. His eyes remained glued to the mess on the floor, the trails that the spilled drinks formed on the