His Hurricane

by Alexis Adaire

  It’s all about risk versus reward. You have to look at a situation, identify the variables at play, then decide whether the possible reward is worth the risk you run if it doesn’t pan out. With HomeFlix, I knew my biggest risk was that it might not grow like I thought it could, but even so, I’d still be able to sell it for half what I paid. So the risk was maybe fifty million versus a possible reward of half a billion dollars. I’d take that bet any day.

  Regarding Tempest, it’s not about money, although I really hate losing bets to my friends. I hate losing anything, period. I’m as competitive as they come. No, the goal here is Tempest herself. As I was trying to sleep last night, I kept imagining looking down at her naked body on the bed in my suite. I saw a network of intricate tattoos all up and down. Her medium-size breasts were firm, and her sexy flat belly was almost enough to distract me from the bare little pussy below.

  When I imagined lowering myself on top of her and sliding my rock-hard cock into her, the thought made me almost unbearably horny. To be honest, that little fantasy got me much harder than the half-dozen lap dances I’d gotten at Nero’s Harem. It was all I could do to keep from rubbing one out, but I refrained because staying in a state of perpetual excitement gives me an edge. And the truth is, If I refuse to come until I’m fucking this chick, it makes obtaining my goal that much more critical.

  After the coffee arrives and I’ve had a cup, I stand at the window and look out over the legendary Vegas Strip. At night, this view is amazing, but during the day it just looks like a lot of cement in the middle of a desert.

  My first move with Tempest will be to get her to go out with me. Since she’s a cocktail waitress, an offer of an extravagantly expensive dinner might do the trick. Then a brilliant idea strikes me: I’ll let her decide where we go. No restrictions whatsoever; we do whatever she wants.

  Tempest was working the day shift yesterday, which I guessed would be eight-to-four or so. I decide to head down to the Little Black Dress in mid-morning, when it should be relatively empty. I clean up a bit, deciding not to shave so I’ll look a little disheveled. Make it seem like I’m not trying to very hard to impress her.

  I see her the moment I walk through the doors. I’m not sure which twitches harder, my brain or my cock. The challenge this woman represents excites me as much as the idea of eventually sinking my hard-on into her. I take a seat in the same area where I was yesterday, hoping this is her section. The only other cocktail waitress I see is a curvy redhead with big tits, so my odds look pretty good.

  I open my laptop on the table and fire it up. I’ll have a better shot at success if I hang out a little and get to know her before asking her out. I’ll lay on the charm first. Also, it makes it look like I’m here to chill and get some work done, rather than my real reason: to find a way to get in her pants.

  Tempest gets almost to my table before she recognizes me. The little frown I see says I have my work cut out for me.

  “Good morning, Mr. Ramsey.” She looks at my laptop. “Counting your money?”

  “Nah. Trying to write a speech, but I need some inspiration. How about some more of that Ardnave scotch?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “And it’s Maddox.”

  When she smiles, I notice the little beauty mark just above the left side of her mouth. Sexy. As. Fuck.

  I watch that cute little ass as she walks to the bar. Goddamn, these little black dresses are worth whatever they want to charge for drinks at this place. Tempest’s dress today is even shorter than yesterday’s, and I still can’t see where those tattoos end; they just seem to disappear where her thighs meet the hem of the dress.

  When she returns with my drink, I say thanks without even looking up from my computer. Make them think you’re not interested and you become a challenge to them. I learned that one while I was still in high school. I laugh when I see guys doing everything they can to get a girl’s attention when what they should be doing is ignoring her.

  Tempest sets the glass on the table. “Just signal me if you need anything,” she says in that sweet rasp of a voice. She’s not the kind of chick every guy goes for, especially with that attitude of hers. But that voice and those tattoos go right to my crotch.

  She probably thinks I’m going to hit her up for her number again. Instead I just nod and mumble, “Mm hmm,” while I stare at the screen in front of me.

  As I take a sip of scotch—and I have to say, it’s really fucking good—I think about the bet I made with the others. I stand to lose thirty grand or win three grand. Hardly fair, but that’s beside the point. I would risk a lot more than thirty grand to hook up with a woman this hot.

  That’s when it occurs to me that Risk Versus Reward would be a perfect topic for my speech. The idea that something of great value often necessitates taking great risks. If the perceived value is high enough, bigger risks to acquire something can actually be a wise approach. I start to type away, wanting to get this down before I forget it.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been at it when Tempest returns. “Ready for another?” She looks at the glass, picks it up, and drinks the last bit of scotch in it. Smiling, she says, “It would appear you are.”

  “Did you just drink my expensive scotch?” I ask with a smirk.

  “I can’t afford it on my wages,” she replies. “But you can. I’ll bring you another.”

  The bar is still mostly empty and I’m her only table. Now’s the time to make a move.

  When Tempest returns a minute later, I say, “Let me ask you something, Tempest: Do you consider yourself a risk taker?”

  “You’re not getting my number, Mr. Ramsey.”

  “Maddox.”

  She smiles. “You’re not getting my number, Maddox.”

  “I didn’t ask for it. I’m working on a speech about risk versus reward. Are you a risk taker?”

  She purses her full lips and thinks. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  I nod. “You seem like you would be.”

  “Are you?” she asks. A cocked eyebrow is my response. Tempest laughs. “Yeah, dumb question I guess.”

  I’ve got her talking to me. Now’s the time to push a little. “One of the things about risk versus reward is that the equation changes depending when new variables enter the picture.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  Here we go.

  “For example,” I say, “yesterday I wanted to ask you out, but whatever reward you saw in that evidently wasn’t enough to outweigh the risks involved. Fair enough?”

  “More or less.”

  “Now I’m going to change the variables to try to even out the equation.”

  “And how would you do that?” Her skeptical expression tells me she’s ready to shoot me down again.

  “If you go out with me, you decide where we go and what we do. Whatever you want, with no limits. Pick something you’ve always wanted to do and let’s do it.”

  I really don’t care what she chooses. I know we’ll be in my bed at the end of the date, and that’s all that matters.

  “Interesting variable, Maddox. I’ll think about it.”

  Then she’s gone again. Not for long, though. In a couple of minutes, she’s back at my table.

  “On this hypothetical date, we’ll do whatever I want?”

  I nod.

  “Anything?”

  “Yep. Anything at all.”

  “But you’re only in town for a few days.”

  “We can go tonight,” I say.

  “Okay. But you’re going to have to trust me with your credit card.”

  What?

  She sees my expression. “Is the reward worth the risk?” she asks with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  There’s really nothing she could buy that would hurt me in any way. I take out my wallet and hand her my Amex Black Card. The card has no limit, but I can call and have them put a temporary one on it, just to protect myself. My instincts tell me I can trust Tempest not to do anything stupid, though, and my i
nstincts are almost never wrong.

  Tempest takes the card. “Meet near the hotel front desk at five?” she asks.

  “Sounds perfect. I’m on a conference panel that’s coming up soon, so I need to get going. Put my drinks on the card.” I close my laptop and stand up. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Tempest.”

  I lean forward to kiss her on the cheek and she pulls away.

  I’m beginning to sense that getting to know Tempest won’t be easy.

  Getting her into bed, though? That won’t be a problem.

  4

  Tempest

  “And he just gave it to you?!”

  Scarlett is staring at the black American Express card in her hand. It’s made of metal and much thicker than a standard credit card. I have to say, it’s pretty sexy.

  “Yeah, but only because I agreed to go out with him.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “Really? I’m so happy for you! Where are you going?”

  I knew where we were going before I even asked Maddox Ramsey for his card. CeCe Nova is doing a week’s worth of shows at the Colosseum at Caesar's Palace, and I’m going to get us front-row tix from a ticket service. I’ve always wanted to see the world’s biggest pop star, and now’s my chance.

  I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t know Maddox can easily afford it. The guy’s worth over a billion dollars, though, so I’m not worried. Besides, it was his idea to say we could do whatever I wanted.

  When I tell her about the concert, Scarlett’s look suddenly changes from excited to concerned. “But don’t you think he’s going to want something in return? What happens if…”

  My BFF doesn’t finish her question, but I know what she’s getting at. “I’m a big girl and I can handle myself, sweetie. There’s no law saying you have to sleep with a guy because he takes you on an expensive date.”

  Inside, though, I’m a little concerned. Maddox Ramsey had that hungry look in his eyes every time I came to his table, both last night and today. I know he wants to sleep with me, and to be honest, there’s something about him that excites me, too. Not his money, but his self-confidence. He wears it well and it’s so fucking sexy on him. He’s also an insanely handsome man. But yeah, I’ll definitely have to watch myself to make sure he doesn’t think I’m leading him on.

  As soon as I have that thought, I get profoundly sad on a deep level. Why is it I have to worry about this? Scarlett, bless her heart, doesn’t think twice once she decides to sleep with a man. Meanwhile, I spend most of my time on dates wondering what he’s going to say when I ask if we can put the brakes on the physical side of things for a while.

  And of course, because they’re men, they always decide it’s easier just to move on to the next girl.

  Kennedy, one of the other cocktail girls at the LBD agrees to come in an hour early so I can rush home and get ready in order to make it back to the Millennium on time. I would have told Maddox to meet me later, but I had already planned to take him out to dinner before the show. That one will be my treat.

  ♦

  I feel a real connection for the first time when Maddox and I are sharing a plate of tobiko at Shinwa, the expensive sushi restaurant at the Mirage Hotel. I’d always wanted to eat there, and this seemed like the perfect occasion. And holy fuck, the sushi is amazing. This spicy hot flying fish roe served on leaves of mint is to die for. We’ve already locked eyes at least a dozen times during dinner as we experienced one after another incredible taste, but this tobiko takes it to a whole new level.

  The warm sake has given me a delightful buzz, and Maddox has been a real gentleman and the perfect dinner companion. I thought he was showing off when he arranged for a limo to pick us up at the Millennium, but he explained that if he didn’t have to drive, he could focus all his attention on me. It was such a sweet thing to say, and it made me start off the night liking him more than I’d planned to.

  At this point, we’ve talked about our hometowns, what we think about Vegas, our current availability (though that should have been obvious), and our favorite vacation spots. We even managed to discuss religion and politics, only to find we’re in almost total agreement on the important stuff.

  “This may be the best sushi I’ve ever had,” he says and he deftly picks up another piece with his chopsticks. “And it’s definitely the best view I’ve ever had while eating sushi.”

  He’s staring right at me as he says it. I’ve already caught him looking at my cleavage a few times this evening, and the thrill it gave me excited me and scared me in equal measure.

  “Maddox, you’re so full of shit,” I tell him. “I know for a fact you’ve dated some truly beautiful women.”

  “Every woman is different. But you…” His eyes gleam. “You are dangerously beautiful.”

  I have no idea what he means by that, but I love the way it sounds coming from his lips.

  When dinner is over and the check arrives, I quickly grab it before he can.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “I’m buying you dinner.”

  “Don’t be silly. I asked you out. I’m buying.”

  “Maddox, now is a good time to tell you that you spent $5000 on those CeCe Nova tickets. So this is on me.” It’s not cheap at a hundred and fifty bucks, but somehow this makes me feel less obligated to him, so it’s worth it.

  The sushi is a great appetizer for the evening, but the main course of the CeCe Nova concert is even better. Maddox was pleasantly surprised about my choice; it turns out he’s a big fan, too. The seats are literally in the middle of the front row and I can see every drop of sweat on CeCe’s forehead. Her voice is incredible, her band is outstanding, and together they put on the best show I’ve ever seen.

  During her big hit ballad, First Time for Everything, Maddox reaches over and takes my hand in his. His big fingers dwarf my skinny little ones, and the skin-on-skin contact feels so good I don’t object. I’ve already gone through all of this in my head, and I know what I’ll be okay with. Holding hands with him is harmless.

  Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

  In the back of the limo after the show, he asks, “Where to now, date planner?”

  “That was it. I didn’t make any other plans,” I say. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Would you like to come up to my suite? We could have some cheesecake from Micio brought up for dessert.”

  The Millennium’s Italian restaurant is famous for their cheesecake, and it is indeed delectable. I’ve already considered what might happen over the course of the evening and was prepared for the invitation back to his room.

  “That sounds wonderful,” I say.

  A second later his lips are on mine. I don’t see it coming and I react badly, pulling my head back and putting my hands on his chest to gently push him away. That’s a mistake on two levels: One, it makes it seem like I don’t want to kiss him when I actually do, and two, his chest is taut and muscular and thrilling to touch.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “You just surprised me.”

  “It’s okay, Tempest. I just wanted to see what those luscious lips taste like.”

  Wow. A girl could get used to compliments like that.

  “But I can wait until after dessert,” he adds.

  “No,” I reply. “Let’s not wait.”

  Our eyes lock for a second, then his lips touch mine again, and this time I’m ready. The kiss is fucking perfect, just the right amount of sensuousness balanced by a hint of aggression. His tongue slides along mine playfully, and he brings a hand along my cheek, caressing it gently.

  Fuck, I’m in trouble. Serious trouble.

  Maddox is an amazing kisser. I really like this guy.

  I was hoping that during the date, he’d give me some reason not to like him. So far, he hasn’t. Not even close.

  And he smells SO. FUCKING. AMAZING. I have no idea what cologne he’s wearing, but it makes me want to rip his clothes off so I can bury my face into his chest and bliss out on that s
cent.

  When we come up for air, Maddox traces the outlines of one of my tattoos. It’s a chest piece, a heart with wings that extend up to the shoulder on both sides. His finger gives me chills and my skin puckers into gooseflesh. For some reason, that feels sexual to me, and I have to swallow hard not to react in the wrong way. When the finger reaches the heart and begins to descend toward my cleavage, I squirm a little and he stops.

  Always the gentleman.

  A thought pops into my brain: What’s to stop me from sleeping with him?

  Who says tonight can’t be the big night? I don’t feel any pressure from Maddox.

  Maybe this is it.

  Maybe.

  My thoughts are interrupted by a repeat of the kiss, and this time we don’t stop until the limo pulls up under the bright lights of the Millennium’s front entrance.

  Minutes later, I’m standing next to him in the elevator. When I see him push the “MPS” button, I laugh to myself. He said he had a suite, but for some reason I didn’t expect it to be the most expensive accommodation in the entire hotel. The Millennium Presidential Suite is on the top floor, all by itself. I’ve heard about it, but never actually been in it.

  It’s huge. There’s a large living room with a view of the famous Las Vegas strip that more than one magazine has called the best view of any room in the city. The décor is tastefully done in white and indigo, topped off by a white grand piano sitting on a circular indigo shag rug in the corner. A gorgeous dining area is situated off to the side, and there’s a circular staircase that spirals upward.

  The elevator doors open and I’m looking at the foyer of the suite. No hallway, you just step from the elevator directly into the suite. Amazing.

  He gestures for me to exit the elevator before he does, then he heads straight to the phone.

  I’ve seen the suite on the Millennium’s website but never in person. It’s more beautiful than I could have imagined. If Maddox doesn’t seduce me, his suite certainly will.