The Dirty Hotel King

by Cassandra Dee

  I exhaled forcefully and looked at him with annoyance now.

  “What do you want, Frank?”

  Frank snorted and looked around my office.

  “You got a nice office Randolph Steele. You also got a real nice hotel, and men like you have got nice, big money,” Frank leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Me on the other hand, I ain’t got much.”

  “Yeah, okay, and?” I was growing more and more annoyed by the second.

  “Well, I know what you’re into,” Frank suggested with a mischievous grin.

  “Oh, really?” I asked, leaning forward. “And what would that be?”

  Frank parried again. “Oh, you mind if I get some of that coffee?” Frank asked as he pointed his finger at my coffee maker.

  Without replying, I nodded ever so slightly, my jaw tight.

  “Nice!” Frank got up and poured himself some coffee, then turned and slowly sipped it.

  “Satisfied?” I inquired with sarcasm.

  “Oh yes,” Frank smacked his lips then sat back down. “Again, I know what you like. I know what you want. My daughter, isn’t it? You saw her yesterday and want a piece of some Rosy, don’t cha?”

  I practically choked. How did he know that? I’m usually smooth as cream. No one can tell what I’m thinking, even in the most extenuating circumstances.

  “What?” I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I saw the way you were eyeing her. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t a hot piece of ass. Nice body. Gorgeous face. She gets it from her mother,” Frank admitted as he took another sip of his coffee.

  I shook my head. “I wanted to make sure she wasn’t stealing anything,” I said in a hard voice. “You know. Like her old man.” Inside, my heart was thumping and my palms were beginning to sweat, but there was no way Frank could know that.

  “Oh man, you’re a terrible liar!” Frank wheezed. He finished the rest of his coffee and put the mug down as he let out a loud belch.

  “Can you just get to the point, Mr. Butler? What do you want from me?”

  The older man smirked. “It’s easy. I want something you have, and you want something I have. So why not make a nice little trade?”

  “What the hell are talking about?” I hissed. My finger was on the button for security now. Not because I was afraid, but because this guy was a major douche. Clearly, you don’t have to have money to be an asshole. Frank Butler could be himself and test the patience of Jesus.

  He smirked, as if reading my mind. “I want some nice money, rich boy. And in return, I’ll give you Rosy.”

  My mouth fell open. This disgusting old man was really trying to sell his daughter? I felt repulsed, with an immediate denial on my tongue. But just for kicks, I decided to play along.

  “You want money in exchange for your beautiful daughter? What type of man are you?” I asked coolly, eyebrows raised.

  Frank shrugged. “Just a man trying to make a buck, what else?”

  I nodded, as if actually contemplating his offer. “Let’s speak hypothetically then. How much would you want if I were to agree to this little exchange?”

  Frank paused for a moment and picked at his teeth. After a while, he finally answered.

  “Five hundred bucks oughta do it. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  I snorted. “Just five hundred? You’d sell your daughter, to me, for only five hundred dollars?” That amount was nothing to me. But even as my disgust was growing, so was my cock. The idea of having Rosy, of seeing her every day, of having her in my service, was titillating to say the least. Life could be very sweet with a girl like that around 24/7.

  Her dad yawned. “Yeah, for however long you want her,” Frank replied. “Then after I get things settled, I’ll take her back.” I sat back in my chair to think about his offer.

  “And you’re serious?”

  Frank nodded and whistled. “Serious as anything,” he said. He winked at me, as if we were conspiring together. “Besides, she’s eighteen – it’s not like you’re doing anything illegal.”

  “Right” I said drily, not bothering to point out that this whole deal was borderline illegal.

  “So?” Frank leaned forward. His eyes shone eagerly and he was rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the money.

  I was torn. I knew it was wrong – I’d accused Frank of human trafficking and here I was, thinking about buying his daughter. How ironic, not to mention completely messed up. But I wanted Rosy more than I’d ever wanted a woman. I’d seen her for just five minutes, and the image of those lush curves reverberated through my mind’s eye. Plus, wasn’t dating sort of like buying a woman, anyway? Buy her drinks, buy her dinner…and maybe get lucky in return? It’s transactional, for sure, but that’s just the way the world works.

  So maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was just cutting out the “dating” part in the middle.

  “I’ll give you five thousand dollars,” I said in a smooth voice. “And I want Rosy for a month. After that, she goes back to you, and it’ll be as if nothing ever happened.” I said. My voice was calm and steady – Frank never could have guessed that my heart was beating like a drum.

  Frank clapped his hands and hopped out of the seat.

  “Oh boy, Mr. Steele! That’s one hell of a deal!” Frank shook my hand vigorously. I smiled tightly.

  “Calm down,” I said. “This deal stays between us. No one else finds out. You got that?” Frank looked behind him and nodded his head as he plopped back down into the leather seat.

  “Oh, yes. Of course. My lips are sealed,” he said, miming pulling a zipper across his mouth.

  I leaned back in my chair, a male animal at ease.

  “So when are you going to bring Rosy to me?”

  Frank gave me a cunning smile that showed off his gold teeth. “When I get the money,” he said as a nasty smile spread across his face. “When did you think? It’s moolah that makes the world go around.”

  I thought for a moment, fingers steepled beneath my chin. This could be a huge mistake.

  Or it could be the most thrilling experience of my life.

  Without saying anything to Frank, I walked across my office and opened the safe I kept behind a copy of a Doré painting. I took five thousand dollars in my hands, then shut the safe and returned to my desk.

  “You’re to bring Rosy to me tomorrow,” I said smoothly, fingering the crisp bills. “Do you understand?”

  Frank was practically salivating at the sight of all the green in my hands. “Oh, yeah,” he said quickly. “We got a deal.” He held out his hand. I hesitated for a moment, then gripped his hand and gave it an abrupt shake.

  “Here.” And within two seconds, Frank snatched the cash from me and smiled greedily.

  “Nice doin’ business with you, Mr. Rich Guy,” Frank said smugly. He stuffed the cash in a plastic bag, then turned and shuffled out of my office, managing to slam the door behind him.

  I exhaled and sat back down in my chair. What had I just gotten myself in? Thinking about the deal was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. Rosy was a dream, but what the hell? Had I really just bought her? I looked back over at the papers on my desk for the Pink Flamingo. Since Rosy would be with me, she wouldn’t need the Pink Flamingo anymore. That place was toast, that was for sure. I grinned and took another sip of my coffee. Things were about to get really interesting.

  Chapter 4

  Rosy

  “Hey, Rosy dear, Danny wants you to shine the front door steps. He said they’re looking a little dull,” Betty told me right as I arrived at the Pink Flamingo.

  “I’ll get right on it,” I promised her before walking to the first floor and grabbing the pail and brush.

  My back ached terribly from scrubbing the other day, but I tried to ignore it so I could get as much work done as possible. Danny had been on my ass the last couple of weeks for my alleged “slacking.” More like he wanted to squeeze the last bit of energy from his employees, even if it meant brea
king their backs, mine included.

  Squatting down in front of the steps, I heaved a sigh. Being a big girl wasn’t always easy, especially when it came to physical work like this. I dipped the sponge into the freezing water and began to work on the stairs, wincing in pain.

  As I continued to scrub, I heard the front desk phone ring.

  “Pink Flamingo, this is Betty. Oh, hi, Mr. Butler,” Betty’s voice trailed off. My heart started to race and I immediately dropped the scrubber and looked at Betty. She was holding the phone cord tight in her hand with a worried expression on her face.

  “Is that my dad?” I called out. Betty looked up briefly but didn’t answer my question. I got to my feet and walked quickly over to the front desk. Inside my chest, my heart was pounding with fear. My dad never calls the Pink Flamingo unless it’s an emergency.

  “I’ll make sure to tell her, Mr. Butler,” Betty said into the phone before dropping it back in its cradle. I stared at her.

  “Well?” I asked anxiously. “What is it?”

  “Your father is sick, Rosy. He wants you to get him some soup and check in on him. He says he feels his sugar’s high.” Tears sprung to my eyes. My dad has horrible health, mainly due to the fact that he was obese from a lifetime of eating junk food and takeout. He’d been prediabetic since I was nine years old, and I knew his blood pressure was sky high.

  But as irritated as I felt with him sometimes, he was the only family I had. Plus, this could be a real emergency, so I sprang into action.

  “I’ll go now!” I ripped my apron off and threw it on the counter as I ran to the break room to grab my purse. My hands were shaking badly as I threw my jacket on. I could hear Betty come up behind me.

  “Here, dear,” Betty said as she handed me a hot soup. “I was gonna have it for lunch, but your dad needs it more than me.” Tears began to fall down my cheeks, both from gratitude and fear. Betty gave me a warm hug, drowning me in her scent of gardenia perfume and cigarette smoke.

  “Thanks, Betty. I really appreciate it,” I sniffled. Betty patted my cheek.

  “Dear, I’m sure your dad will be just fine. He always pulls through,” Betty tried to reassure me. I nodded and headed for the door.

  “Yeah, you’re right. The soup should help. Thanks again!” I waved to Betty one last time, and then bolted down the street. Thankfully, I only lived a block away from the Pink Flamingo. I could stop by the house, make sure my dad was okay, and then get back to work within fifteen minutes. Hopefully, Danny would never even realize I was gone.

  When I made it home, my hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped the soup and my keys. By the time the door was unlocked, my heart was thumping so quickly that I thought I was going to faint.

  “Dad!” I screamed out as I opened the door. I ran into the living room and found him sprawled out on the couch, fanning himself with money. Literally, a fan made of money. There had to be at least six or seven crisp bills causing a breeze to stir by his face.

  “Dad?” I whispered. “What’s going on? Are you sick? I brought you soup,” I babbled. “It’s a little cold now, but I can always—“.

  “Ah, great! You’re here!” Dad said, interrupting my concern. “I’ve got some good news for us. For you in particular,” he said meaningfully.

  I dropped my bag on the floor and blinked.

  “Aren’t you…aren’t you sick? What do you mean?”

  Frank smiled with satisfaction. “Nah, I’m fine. I just needed an excuse to get you down here,” Dad chuckled, obviously pleased with himself.

  “I just left work for you,” I said quietly. “I could get fired for this. You know that.”

  Frank shrugged. “Don’t worry about that shithole. I called you because I made a very smart business deal, Missy! You’re gonna love it!” he crowed.

  And that was when I saw the rest of the money – there were bills spread out all over our couch. “Did you win the lottery or something?” I asked, my brow wrinkling. “What’s going on?”

  My dad smirked. “Yeah, sweetheart. I won Mr. Randolph Steele’s money. Do you remember him from The Grand?” I thought back to yesterday when my dad was dumpster diving for goods. A man had approached us, escorting my dad back to the van. I couldn’t have forgotten him – he was easily the most beautiful male I’d ever seen, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, not to mention the build of a god underneath that dark suit. My body went hot merely from the memory.

  “I remember him, but why’d you get money from him?” I asked quietly.

  “Well, Mr. Steele was very interested in you, so we made a deal. He paid five thousand bucks to have you for a month.” My dad sat back with his hands over his big stomach as a smug grin crept over his face.

  I was stunned. A deal? What would he want with me?

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused. “What would he want with me? I’m just a motel maid. Does he have cleaning needs?”

  My dad shrugged and got up off the couch, walking to the kitchen. “Beats me. All I know is that this money will get us far. You’ll be reporting straight to The Grand first thing tomorrow morning.”

  I shook my head and followed him to the kitchen. “No,” I said simply, as I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m dedicated to the Pink Flamingo, and I’m not about to jeopardize that for some stupid deal you made without even consulting me first. What if this is all a hoax? Then what are we going to do? At least I know my paychecks from the Flamingo are real.”

  Frank took me by surprise then. He slammed his fist into the refrigerator and whirled around, before grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me hard.

  “I don’t give two fucks what you do or don’t wanna do! I made a deal, and you’re gonna respect it!” Dad spat.

  “Well, too bad,” I said, trying to stay calm. “I’m not going. I’m not going to risk losing my job for this!” I ran back to the living room and grabbed my bag, then headed out the door. I didn’t care how much money that rich man gave my dad. We had too much at stake because my paychecks from the Flamingo were the only thing putting food on the table right now. But still. Even if it was a hoax, how had this come about? Had the hotel magnate actually noticed me? Remembered me? And somehow struck a dirty deal with my dad? But for what? And where was this going?

  I shook my head, determined to put it out of my mind. Because one thing was for sure … the results wouldn’t be good, even as Steele’s image burned a hole in my heart.

  Chapter 5

  Steele

  The next day, I woke up filled with excitement and a little anxiety. It was crazy – I knew that buying a woman was wrong, especially a young, ripe teenager. But something about the wrongness was exciting, and I jacked off in the shower before heading to The Grand. I couldn’t stop thinking about Rosy’s huge tits and her round belly, and imagining how she’d feel writhing under my muscular body.

  But I couldn’t let anyone know how much I was looking forward to this…or how nervous I was starting to feel. I’d had Alicia organize the best suite in The Grand for Rosy, but I wanted to be sure everything was perfect before my new acquisition arrived.

  “Did you make sure the sheets are our best sheets?”

  “Yes, Mr. Steele. Of course.”

  “Did you make sure there’s not a speck of dust?”