by Black, Lena
As I step on the private elevator, reserved for guests with suites, Callie slides in after me. We’re alone.
Fuck.
“That went well,” she comments, standing beside me in the back.
“Yeah, it was fine.”
Suddenly, she steps in front of me, facing me, big tits shoved into my chest. “I think we should celebrate.”
Before I can oppose, she has her skirt hiked up around her waist and she’s attacking the zipper of my jeans.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I slap her hands away, glaring at her. “You’re acting like a whore.”
I zip my fly back up.
“That’s the point,” she retorts, going back in for my junk.
“Damn, bitch.” I swat her away. “Don’t you fucking listen? Leave my dick alone.”
“Come on. Don’t be such a pussy.” She leans in, completely unfazed by my disinterest, and smacks her lips against mine. I wrench my mouth away and grab onto her shoulders, slamming her back against the wall.
“Are you fucking mentally bankrupt?”
Her breathing is harsh, heaving her chest up and down. She has a wicked smile on her face. “You really have a way of royally fucking things up for me, Callie. And I’m getting sick of it.”
“I just want to fuck you up.” She steps into me, smelling goddamn delicious. It’s making my head foggy. “I won’t tell your little girlfriend.”
“She’s not…” I press her against the wall again, pinning her there.
“Oh, that’s right.” She smirks smugly. “You don’t have girlfriends.” She creeps her face forward, her lips grazing mine. I clamp my hand about her jaw, digging my fingers into her cheeks to hold her in place. Her lips plump and pucker from my constricting clutches. “Mm. You know just how rough I like it.”
“If you cost me this, I swear...”
“What?” she pants out. “What are you going to do to me if I tell her?”
I laugh lazily. “You don’t want to know. Trust me.”
“Afraid she’ll leave you? I can take care of you better than she ever could anyway.” She traces her finger down my torso. With an agitated growl, I release my grasp on her face and step back. “You’ve changed. She’s changed you.”
She crosses her arms and looks at me, pissed, maybe slightly amazed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I run my fingers through my messy hair, trying to gain control over myself and the situation.
“Really? Is that why I haven’t seen you with some random bimbo in the papers lately? Or getting wasted every night? Or turning down sex from me? You’ve never turned me down in the time I’ve known you. Except for when she came into the picture.”
It’s accusing and judgmental.
But when I think about it, she’s right. Other than Lace, there’s been no one else. Other than that one shitty incident at the Chateau, I haven’t gotten smashed or done a single drug. Other than her, I want no one else. I have changed since Lacey.
I swallow hard at the realization.
“I need to get back up to her,” I mutter, unwilling to look her in the eye.
“Fuck you,” she snarls.
“Not fucking likely,” I retort with a shitty grin.
The doors open and she brushes past me, exiting angrily.
“Holden? What are you doing here?” I pop up, propping myself on my elbows.
“I was just about to ask you the same.” He smiles, scanning me up and down with a fiendish twinkle in his gray eyes.
Suddenly, I feel as if I’m doing something wrong being here with Gunnar. “I’m here with a friend.”
“And, would this friend happen to be male?” he asks with an accusatory tone. He really has some nerve making me feel this way. He’s always made me feel inadequate, as if I was the one messing up all the time, always wrong.
“That’s really none of your business anymore, Holden,” I retort, petulantly.
He moves over to Gwen’s lounger and takes a seat on the side, facing me with his elbows resting on his knees.
“You’ve changed.” His voice is low and raspy. “You’ve never spoken to me this way before. I can’t say I like it.”
“Well, isn’t that a shame? Cause I do.” The corners of my mouth pull down into an exaggerated pout, about as fake as ninety percent of the women’s breasts in Vegas. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing in Vegas.”
“I’m here for you.” He reaches out for my hand and I move it away.
“Of course you are,” I breathe out. “How the hell did you know where I was?”
“Cassandra told me you were here.” He seems to believe it’s perfectly acceptable to show up unannounced on my weekend with Gunnar.
“Of course she did.” I shake my head, disappointed by her prying.
I’m not surprised. I can’t even be upset. Like an idiot, I’d told my mother I was coming to Vegas with Gwen. I didn’t have the nerve to tell her about Gunnar. Luckily, we’ve managed to stay out of the tabloids, but I can’t help think she may have found out about us. This could be a desperate attempt at making sure him and I don’t happen.
“Why did she tell you?”
“I called looking for you and she informed me you were in Vegas with Gwen.”
He’s always disliked her because she saw right through him. She was never a cheerleader on Team Holden. My mom on the other hand, was his cheer captain.
“Amongst others,” I add, smirking.
“Lacey, are you here with someone else?” His lips fix into a razor-sharp line, eyes narrowing.
“It’s really none of your fucking concern. I’m none of your concern anymore.” I cross my arms over my chest, glaring right back at him.
He sighs when he realizes I’ve become immune to his intimidation tactics. “Look, Lacey, I want…”
I hold up my hand, scowling at him.
“No, you look, Holden. I really don’t care what you want. You lost that right. I don’t know what you’re doing here, nor do I give two fucks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my trip.”
I stand up and walk toward the pool without a glance back in his direction.
I don’t know where that came from. But I like the new me, the me without him, the me I’m becoming with Gunnar.
Lace, badass bitch.
Oh, God, I hope Gunn doesn’t find out about him being here. I don’t know what he’s capable of when it comes to violence, but I doubt he’d roll out the welcome mat.
She’s been acting fucking weird all afternoon, staring off into the distance with vacant, cloudy eyes. She’s curled up on the bed, holding a pillow to her chest, her back up against the headboard. She looks out onto The Strip as night falls over sin city.
I wonder if Callie got to her, spilled all my dirty little secrets. I wouldn’t put it past the fucking bitch.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask out right. I’ve never been one for hints or subtlety.
She turns her head in my direction, keeping her eyes cast down.
“Holden is here,” she murmurs flatly.
I walk over to the bed, turning and sitting at the end. “And, uh, just how do you know this?” My jaw constricts.
The mix of relief and rage I feel is confusing.
“He showed up at the pool earlier today.” She doesn’t go further.
“Do I really have to ask you what happened, Lace?”
I have no right prying after my incident in the elevator, but the images of them keep rushing through my head.
“He tried to explain what went down between us, but I didn’t want any of it. I just walked away from him.”
I twist around, exploring her face for any sign of what she could be feeling.
“Is that why you’ve been absent all afternoon?”
Her face wrenches. “I haven’t been absent.”
“Baby, it’s like you’re not even here.” I sigh, frustrated by what his presence has done to her and this afternoo
n has done to me. I know she doesn’t love him, but he obviously affects her in a negative way. I don’t love Callie, but she’s a bad influence, ruthless. This was supposed to be an amazing weekend for us. I even brought her fucking friend along to make sure she would have a good time.
Fuck this shit.
I rise from the bed.
“We’re not going to let this idiot bitch ruin our time together. There’s not much left, and I won’t have him take away from it.” She smiles faintly, tucking a loose chunk of fair hair behind her ear, and looks up at me with those hazel fucking eyes. God damn. Her eyes just exude the sexual deviant behind them.
“What did you have in mind, Haze?”
“I’m going to show you what it’s like to live beyond consequences.”
We eat at the hotel’s five star restaurant, Goddess. During dinner, with her friend obliviously sitting across from us, my hand finds its way to Lace’s lacey panties. Barely hidden by her very short skirt, I shift them over for a quick tease. She attempts to swat me away a few times, but I’m a persistent little fucker.
When Gwen excuses herself to the restroom, I make another go at her panties.
“Gunn, would you stop?” she laughs out. “You sex-maniac.”
I smirk devilishly. “Only when it comes to you, baby.”
“Oh, yeah right!”
I slide my hands back up her thigh.
“Come on, baby doll, just let me touch her real quick. No one has to know but me.” I lean into her, breathing against her neck. I know it drives her fucking nuts. “Let go, Lace. Be young with me.”
I can see I’m breaking her down. She eyes me for an a moment before nodding her head. I slide my fingers into her warm wetness, coating the tips and spreading it along her swollen lips. I press one into her clit, feeling her pulse with pleasure, and kiss her neck, trailing my tongue along the long line.
“I’m guessing this is the friend you were referring to,” a male voice says over our table.
I rip my face from her neck and glare up at the asshole, snarling my upper lip. By the way he’s dressed and his air of douchebaggery, it isn’t hard to figure out who this cock-hole is.
Now, I can do one of two things. I can either beat his ass until he needs a straw to eat or…
I cup my hand over her pussy, blocked from view by the table, and massage her with the heel of my palm, forcing her to let out a whimper, strained from a feeble attempt to hold it back.
“We’re a little more than friends.” I grin, daring him to make the next move.
“I guess she’ll spread her legs for just about anyone these days.” He laughs lazily. “But I got there first.”
I stand up, chuckling in an attempt to appear harmless. “You’re fucking funny,” I murmur, getting right up in his face.
Without hesitation, I jab my fist into his gut, knocking the fucking wasted breath right out of him. He huddles over with a gurgled groan. I tilt my face near his ear, still grinning to myself. “I don’t care what you say about me. But you will never talk to her like that again. In fact, if you so much as come near her, I’ll end you.”
I pat him on the back before holding my hand out to Lace. “Come on, baby.”
After adjusting her dress, she grabs on and follows me out of the restaurant.
“What about Gwen?”
“Text her.” I pull her to my side, hooking my arm around the curve of her lower back. “We’ll be in the casino.”
“You just punched him in the stomach,” she states the obvious.
“Yeah. Thanks for the recap.” I smirk at her and she coyly returns the gesture.
“But did you really have to grab my crotch?”
“Are you telling me you didn’t fucking love it?”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. Her wet pussy and the flush of her cheeks tells me everything I need to know.
We play Craps, Blackjack, and Poker, Gunnar betting obscene amounts of dough per hand. Which I’m sure would’ve been an issue if he hadn’t kept winning! In total, he’s won over three hundred thousand dollars without even breaking a sweat.
We’re at the twenty-one table, the pinging of slot machines and boisterous cheers of patrons surrounding us, when he reaches his hand over to my thigh and gives it a firm squeeze.
Leaning his face next to my ear, he says with a gruff whisper, “You’re my good luck charm, Lace.” He rubs my leg with his thumb. “And, later, I’m going to give you a good fuck.” He emphasizes the last word, and I actually jump a little from the aggressiveness of his tone. I slowly glimpse at him, our faces close enough to feel the heat of his breath on my cheek, and notice the lustful haze veiling his eyes.
“You’re going to know every inch of my cock when I’m finished with you.”
I timidly lick my lips and tuck some hair behind my ear, reverting back to my prudish self. He must feel me tense under his touch because he says, “Relax, baby. I’m going to show you the time of your life tonight.”
“I thought you two would enjoy somewhere a little more…exclusive,” I announce, walking in the middle of Lace and Gwen. My hand rests on Lace’s lower back, exposed in her backless dress, showing off the long line of her spine. I nod to the doormen in sharp black suits as we approach the entrance, a prideful smile on my face when I realize they aren’t even looking at me. Finally noticing, one greets me, opening the door for us, “Good evening, Mr. Haze. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.”
We head into the lobby, consisting of a lounging area and coat check. Stopping them, I say, “This isn’t a normal ‘club’. I want you to be prepared.”
Lace gives me a puzzled look, her eyebrows knitting together.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“You’ll see, baby doll.” I smirk at her, loving how not knowing makes her antsy. Her prude ways used to bother the fuck out of me, but now I find it appealing, arousing even.
I guide them toward the doors leading into the actual club, another doorman opening them up for us with a bow of his head.
We step inside and I turn my focus on her face, watching as her eyes grow large. She watches the topless waitresses move about the open layout, trays raised up above their heads as they move through the crowd. The club is a fusion of a strip club and martini bar, dancing, plush couches. It’s real exclusive, celebrities, the rich and famous, etc. The nearly naked girls dance on small stages with poles in the center, the floors light up. There are private sections all about the outline of the club, with black sheer curtains for private dances.
“You weren’t kidding,” she murmurs, almost too low for me to hear over the music.
I smile at her, resting my hand on her lower back and rubbing it gently. I scan the darkened atmosphere, providing the well-known guests a sense of anonymity. I spot the guys already in our reserved area in the back. “Come with me.”
I lead them over to a private sitting area in the back, with blue velvet couches and tables with little lamps.
“Sup, man,” Dylan greets me, extending his hand out. I give it a slap and a bump. But he doesn’t even seem to notice me, mindlessly staring at Gwen.
“Sup, Dylan,” I laugh out.
We take a seat, and I scoot Lace into me and kiss her shoulder. She smirks at me, a softness about her face.
It isn’t long before her friend pops up and says, “I’m going to go where the action is. Want to join me?” she asks Lace, but she shakes her head and eases back into the couch. I slide my arm around her shoulder, holding her closer to me.
“I’d love to join you,” Dylan says, smirking at her with his hornball grin.
She blushes, gently nibbling on her bottom lip. “Okay. I’m Gwen.”
“Yeah, I know who you are. I’ve seen your work.”
“Oh, well, I’ve seen yours.”
He takes her hand, guiding her to the dancefloor in the center of the room.
“What do you want to drink, baby?” I ask Lace.
She puckers
her lips as she thinks. “A scotch on the rocks.”
I’m taken back for an instant. She just picked my favorite drink. I’ve never met a girl who enjoys a good scotch.
I lift my hand, catching the attention of a nearby black-haired waitress who’s served me before. We’ve flirted a bit, but I never boned her. I have a feeling this could be slightly problematic.
“Can I get you something, Mr. Haze?” she asks, eyeing Lace with contempt. I think it’s funny as hell. I’d be jealous, too. Lace is stunning, carries herself with confidence. And I usually don’t notice what a woman wears, but she always looks so damn good I can’t help noting everything about her. The little backless turquoise number she’s wearing clings to her sick bod, tall and slender, the length emphasizing her long, gazelle legs.
“Sure, two of my usual.”
She smiles at me, ignoring Lacey, and walks away.
“She didn’t seem to like me much.”
“Envy is an ugly monster, baby doll.”
“Because I’m with you?”
“No, Lace, because you’re gorgeous and confident. That threatens some people. Especially people who feel as if they’re lacking.”
“I don’t think I’m gorgeous.” She shifts her eyes away from mine, avoiding me. “And I’m just as self-conscious as the next girl.”
“One, the fact that you don’t know how beautiful you are, makes you sexy as fuck. Two, you hold yourself in a way that conveys a level of comfort in your own skin. We all have moments of weakness or self-doubt. You’re stronger than you think, Lace, inside and out.”
She looks at me like I have two heads. “You’re smarter than you look,” she jokes.
“I’ve been surprising myself lately, too.”
Truthfully, Lace is the reason.
Our drinks arrive and we watch the insanity around the club unfold. As I scan the club, I notice a slutty blonde watching me, nibbling on her bottom lip. She has that I’m gonna fuck ‘em look in her eyes, hooded and focused. This is going to be trouble.
Just as I knew she would, she saunters over to us in our private booth, running her hands over her dress to emphasize her curves. And she has some deadly turns, her tits, large and fake, are like two globes.
