by Jami Denise
See Jayne Play
Jami Denise
First Kindle Edition
Copyright © October 2013 by Jami Denise
All rights reserved
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CONTENT WARNING: This story contains scenes of an explicit, erotic, or violent nature and is intended for adults. 18+ Story includes graphic language, violence, and sexual situations.
Cover design & Layout - Mayhem Cover Creations
DEDICATION
To the woman that fostered my love of reading and books, and still believes in my imaginary friend.
And the man that brought me up to have the strength to try and to take risks with my middle finger in the air.
To my mom and dad.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
About the author
For everyone knows that it requires very little to satisfy the gentleman if a woman will only give her mind to it
Margaret Oliphant
ONE
Soapy froth surrounded me as I splashed around in the tub. Being submerged in bubbles was one of those little luxuries I never denied myself. It was the only time I could really clear my head and just think. My life had become a mess, and although I had to resort to a tiny fiberglass piece of heaven to avoid it, it was enough.
I pushed the suds around with my hands, letting my mind wander. I’d been looking forward to a quiet night off, but with my pockets empty and thugs on my ass, I had to sacrifice my peace for another night with another man.
I wanted to flat out refuse when Vince called me with a new client. I was not in the mood, and he knew it. The more I argued, the more he pushed. Another date, another dollar. And we needed lots of dollars.
I think I was more annoyed by the request given by the guy more than anything. He’d rattled off a lengthy list of demands, ridiculous point by point orders. It was arrogant, and I was a bit offended. He’d asked for me personally, so I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to push his orders down my throat. I was the best at what I did. I could mold a church mouse into a vision of desire that any man would fall to his knees to have.
But, it wasn’t my job to question them. I was there to give them what they wanted, and then move along.
Honestly, I was bitter about having to take dates in the first place. I’d moved away from that part of my life. No longer did I need to spread my legs for men desperate enough to pay me. Instead, I lined up girls to do the dirty work for me. I prospered. I was good at it, and I liked it that way. That was until Vince called with the message that my father was being held hostage for a debt he owed in a poker game.
I was glad I hadn’t refused. The Maguire Grand was the newest, most exclusive and elite hotel and casino in town, and I’d wanted to see the place for a while. A fat payout was just the cherry on top. Meeting a client there meant my luck was starting to turn in the right direction.
With the endgame in sight, double or nothing always got my attention.
Remembering what life had been like a month before was impossible. The girl I’d been and the dreams I had were gone—obliterated—in the span of a ten-minute phone call.
All it took was one phone call to shatter my dreams, my heart, and eventually, my soul.
Sure, I’d been given choices, but none of them were desirable. They weren’t choices at all. They were demands and ultimatums.
I had to shake off the resentment. It plagued me, but those thoughts didn’t belong in my head before heading out for a date. My switch needed to be on, the façade in place, so with a sigh, I put them out of my mind. There was no use in stressing when there was nothing I could do until I had enough money to get out of the situation.
My nerves were at an all-time high by the time I pulled up in front of the hotel and into the valet station. But as soon as I stepped out of the car, Jayne was on stage. Handing the keys to the young attendant, watching him blatantly check me out, I felt alive. Typical behavior from a man, but it was always fun getting that kind of attention. I craved it, thrived on it. It was part of the job, and if I was honest, it was the best part. My sole purpose was to draw them into my web like frantic flies to a cube of sugar.
Young, old, and everything in between. They were a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less.
“You take good care of her,” I purred seductively, running my hand over the hood.
I loved my little red car, and she got almost as much attention as I did. Men characteristically found both cars and women irresistible; they never outgrew that little boy curiosity. They were all obsessed with figuring things out, finding out how they ticked.
“Of... of course, ma’am,” the young man stuttered, blinking rapidly and fumbling with the keys.
I winked at him as I walked away, sauntering through the entrance and toward the concierge desk.
“Good evening, Miss King. We’ve been expecting you.”
Marcy, the concierge, was an old friend of sorts. She’d accommodated guests with requests for me and my services several times at other hotels. It was no surprise that she was behind the desk at The Maguire Grand. She was the best at what she did, and I was happy to see that she hadn’t lost her compliant nature. Clearly intimidated by me and the powerful company I kept, she scrambled around, making sure I was comfortable and taken up to the suite as quickly as possible. She didn’t miss a beat, even though it’d been years since I’d last seen her.
I’d always liked that about Marcy—even when she was flustered and uneasy about the risqué nature of my visits, she always treated me professionally and kindly. It wasn’t always the case with hotel clerks. The judgment, the rude remarks—they were all part of the job and came with the territory, but there were days when it got to me. It was one of the many reasons I’d decided to end that part of my life. I hated the reminders, and seeing her was a vivid one.
Today wasn’t one of those days, however. I was headed toward a lucrative evening, so I held my head high as the bellboy motioned me to the penthouse elevator, and walked with the poise of a woman worthy of a thousand dollars an hour.
The hotel was impressive, and as my heels clicked against the marble floors of the lobby, I knew I was in for a night. The casino was spectacular, and very exclusive. Anyone who could afford a suite in the penthouse of The Maguire was a high roller, and then some. A smile lined my face with the thought. Another penny—or a few thousand—closer to my goal in one night was a tantalizing thought.
My mood improved tenfold after walking into the hotel, and my adrenaline pumped furiously as I followed the young man to the elevator at the back of the lobby—the one that led straight to the penthouse.
He pressed a button to the left, and the doors slid open. He kept his eyes averted, which was cute, but I could tell by his body language that he was dying to sneak a peek. I smiled. As we rode up to the twenty
-first floor, I checked myself over in the wall-to-wall mirrors inside. I touched up my lipstick, patted down my hair, and straightened the belt on the coat I’d been asked to wear. Chuckling under my breath, I thought about how cliché it was to arrive in a trench coat and stilettos, and could only assume my date was some horny old man with a nothing underneath fantasy. I had no idea what they found alluring about it, but who was I to judge? I was there to put on a show, to do a job, and do it well.
Ask no questions; just do as you’re told.
Finally, the metal cage stopped and the door slid open. The bellhop stepped out, finally making eye contact, and held his hand out for me to take.
“Right this way, Miss King.”
I followed him down a hallway covered with plush carpet and walls lavished with abstract oil paintings. It was more than I’d imagined, and I was pleased. If the hallways were that luxurious, I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into the suite.
We stopped in front of a large red door, rapping on it quickly with his knuckles. It swung open immediately, and an older man with hair as white as a magician’s rabbit greeted us.
“Miss King. Please, come in.”
His appearance startled me. He wasn’t the typical John, for sure, but beyond that, his formality came across as odd and creepy. My haunches were up immediately. Even for a Casino like The Maguire, being greeted by a tuxedoed man old enough to be my grandfather took me off guard.
But, I followed him inside anyway. He seemed harmless, and I knew Vince had my back. He’d never put me in danger, and he was always a phone call away.
Taking a moment to look around the room, the first thing I noticed was how elaborately decorated it was. As my eyes swept around, I took in every detail. The hardwood floors were polished and dark, the walls were crisp, painted a blinding white, and the furnishings were impeccable. There was a contrast of a deep garnet red splashed throughout, and I realized this guy’s preference for red was serious.
Above our heads, a dimly lit crystal chandelier hung, bathing the room in a soft glow.
Gorgeous.
I turned to thank the man in the tux, only to find him gone. Confused, I started toward the front door to make a getaway, when I heard a voice from the other side of the room speak up.
“Come in, Jayne. I’ve been looking forward to you all night.”
My body tightened and my eyes darted around the room, trying to locate the voice. There was a click and scrape of a lighter flickering, and the lambent reflection revealed a man lounging in a red suede chair.
I was shocked. Of all people, I never expected to see Flynn Maguire sitting across from me, soliciting my services.
He was incredibly handsome, more so than the last time I’d seen him. His dark eyes were haunting, like a starless night and just as empty. When he looked at you, it was intimidating, dangerous. That mysterious charm always intrigued me. Then again, I’d always fallen for men like him.
He stood well over six feet tall and held himself like an athlete. Strong, confident, and well-built. Dark waves fell over his brow, dancing at the collar of his shirt, and my fingers pricked with an urge to run them all over those waves and pet them like a kitty. I had a serious thing for a man with good hair, and Flynn Maguire’s put all other men’s locks to shame. That was a dangerous detail in my line of work. It wasn’t smart to feel anything, and Flynn made me feel all kinds of things, and had for a long time.
I’d seen him around for years, but we’d never been formally introduced. We ran in the same arenas, but he was always untouchable, special. I was a pretender. I never belonged, but I was always pushing toward the front, clawing and scraping my way through. He was the real deal—Las Vegas royalty, the heir to the vast Maguire fortune. I hadn’t seen him since returning to Vegas, and admittedly, I was thrilled to be in the same room as him.
I tried to hide my excitement as he silently circled around me, his trousers hugging the muscles of his legs with each step, but it was useless. I was shaking, and I was sure he could tell, but I said nothing, letting him continue his silent perusal. I was uneasy and felt exposed, not exactly scared, but definitely wary of his intentions. I was already on edge. Like a schoolgirl with a crush, it was ridiculous, but real. He was suffocating me with his very presence.
His looks, the warm manly way he smelled, and the cool, easy way he moved around me sparked a new tremor of nerves.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I spoke up.
“Do you mind if I take off my coat?”
I was sweating like crazy, melting underneath the heavy fabric of the trench. Standing in front of him had me positively boiling.
Without making eye contact, his eyes on my legs, he nodded. “Allow me.”
He moved behind me, pulling the coat from my shoulders and letting it gently slide over my arms. The man I’d met at the door returned, seemingly out of nowhere, and took my coat, staring at me in the process. He gave me a creepy feeling, like one of those old portraits where it seemed like their eyes followed you through a room. I hadn't heard him enter, and realized I’d been so entranced with Flynn that I’d lost sight of my surroundings.
That was another mistake. It could be dangerous if I wasn’t alert. Anything could happen, and while I didn’t think I had anything to worry about with Flynn Maguire, I also knew little about him personally, so I set my mind to focus on everything around me.
He made it difficult to think as he circled around me, his finger lightly tracing my shoulder and his warm breath washing over my bare skin. I could feel his touch from head to toe, not quite electric, but alarming. He rounded in front of me, came to a stop, and faced me. My heartbeat raced.
He was so intense. It was a little dangerous the way his eyes raked over me. I’d never been looked at that way, and I’d been looked at a lot. Most of the time, I didn’t even register the attention. It was always about the game of seduction, and my body was my lucky hand. With him, I flourished, beaming with the joy of being looked at by a God of a man, a man I’d watched from afar so many times, I couldn’t even keep track of the ways.
He stared at me for some time, and I squirmed under his unrelenting gaze. Every inch of my body reacted to him, my nipples as hard as nails and pressed against the fabric of my dress, while my inner thighs burned with the need and instinct to fall open and beg for his touch. Finally, he lowered his eyes, stepped backward, and pointed.
“On the bed,” he demanded.
I took a few steps back, my eyes still on him, and stopped once my thighs hit the mattress. My hands shook as I sat, so I clasped them together in my lap and waited for his next request.
“Lie back.”
I did as he asked, using my elbows to push my body until I was near the headboard. Each time he opened his mouth, I became more and more excited for what was to come.
“Good. You’re a listener.”
The side of his mouth lifted into a small smile, and I felt a burst of pride for pleasing him. It always worked in my favor to make them as happy as possible, but with him, it was different. I wanted to impress him, the man, and not the client.
He stood at the edge of the bed and stared again, his eyes wandering my barely covered form. I’d abided by the orders he’d given Vince as far as wardrobe, and I prayed he was satisfied. The way he looked at me told me he was.
Red.
Apparently the man had a fetish for red. Red heels, red lingerie, and red lipstick. The first thing I’d noticed in the suite was the way the color played throughout. The satin covering the bed underneath me was blood red, rich and lavish, and I knew the sight in front of him was phenomenal.
My body began to ache, and I willed myself not to fidget under his fierce stare. The sound of his voice wrapped around me like a smooth blanket, and the way he looked at me was more than I could stand. I’d never reacted so intensely to a man before. Something feral came over him. Something wild that called to my body like nothing I’d ever experienced.
“I want to see y
ou,” he said roughly. “Take off your bra.”
Happily, I thought to myself.
The only thing my brain could process was getting skin to skin with him. I sat up and reached around, unhooking my bra and letting it fall to expose my full breasts. Looking up at him, desperate for his reaction, I smiled when his jaw muscle jumped and his eyes fell closed.
His reaction did not disappoint.
“Gorgeous.” His eyes raked over me, boring into me like fire.
“Touch them.”
His request took me off guard. I expected him to touch them. I’d seen the hungry look in his eyes. Instead, he flattened the palm of his hand over his trouser-covered cock, rubbing up and down slowly while watching me cup my breasts.
Our eyes locked as we touched ourselves, and although the situation was odd, at least in my instance, I also found it incredibly erotic.
He moved backward, falling into the suede chair I’d found him in earlier, and the grinding sound of metal filled the room as he unzipped his pants. A low, needy groan escaped his lips, and I looked up, eager to see his hand on his bare cock. Before I could focus, he flipped the switch on the lamp on the table next to him and bathed the room in darkness.
Frustrated, I rolled my nipples between my fingertips. The sensations it gave my tender flesh caused me to hiss and my entire body to shiver. I was so aroused, hot and bothered in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. He was toying with me, and instead of it pissing me off, it was turning me on. He wanted a show, and I was eager to give him something worthy of watching, so I continued to tweak, pull, and roll my nipples as he looked on.
“Just lay there,” he barked out. “Don’t move.”
I wanted to protest, but it was my purpose to do what he wanted and be what he needed. However, for the first time ever, I wanted to throw my rules out the window. I wanted to participate and enjoy it. I wanted him to touch me, fuck me, and make me come.
God, how I wanted to come.
I could hear him as he fucked his hand, his breath harsh and ragged as he tirelessly slid his palm over his cock. I lay there as still as possible, fighting the blackness so I could sneak a peek.
