by Teagan Kade
I’m running out of talking points here. I had a brain, but it seems to have departed.
I lean forward until my boobs are practically spilling out of my top, fanning myself with my free hand and trying to act as sultry as possible. “Dang, it is hot out today, wouldn’t you agree?”
It’s a good thing I don’t flirt for a living.
Dave nods, eyes glued to the space between my bad boys. “Yes, ma’am. It’s a scorcher. Now, is there something else I can do for you?”
Stupid Dave and his damn professionalism. “Um…” I’m stalling.
I look around hopelessly, notice Playboy tucked under the desk. “You’re a Playboy fan?”
Dave loosens his collar, blushing. “Well, I like to read the articles, see.”
So said every guy busted with a Playboy ever.
“I was in it,” I say, matter-of-factly.
You what now? But it gets his attention.
“You were?” he questions, genuinely curious.
“Miss… July,” I fumble.
He shifts in his chair. “That’s quite something, Miss…?”
“Fonda. Miss Jane Fonda.”
Jane freakin’ Fonda? What. The. Hell. Dawn?! Why don’t you just tell him you’re Angelina Jolie and be done with it?
Thank all the heavens he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, smiling and nodding enthusiastically. “Wow. That’s something.”
I check the monitor again. The damn car is still there. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this act going short of jumping Dave’s bones here, and that is definitely not an option.
“I’ll bring you by a signed copy,” I continue, playing with a strand of my hair like it’s taffy, puckering and un-puckering my lips like some strange Amazonian fish.
Sexy, I scold myself. Act sexy!
I lick my lips and lift my eyebrows. I look insane, but Dave just smiles back dreamily.
The baseball announcers suddenly explode. ‘And Slade’s going for it. The bases are loaded…’
This time I can’t stop him. He’s turning in his chair, halfway to the monitors already.
Do something!
So I do the only thing that comes to mind.
I reach into that box with both hands and take hold of that potato head, turning it towards me and planting my lips on that puffer-fish face. It’s like kissing a sweaty ball-sack.
I keep it going, watching the monitor with one eye as the Camino starts to move. Come on. Come on.
Dave goes to break away. I kiss him harder, holding his head tight.
And then comes the tongue, like a slimy, day-old sausage, working its way between my lips and exploring my mouth—sloppy, reptilian. I’m sixteen again in Timothy Ford’s dad’s car.
Just when I think I can’t possibly take any more, when I can barely breathe, I see the Camino disappear from the monitor. Max leaps out to roll the fence back into place.
I break free, the mixed taste of salt and stale jerky in my mouth. “Thanks!” I chime, suppressing the urge to gag and running away as fast as I can, while calls of “Wait! Ma’am!” follow me.
Max pulls up in the Camino, leaning across and popping the passenger door open. “Get in.”
Dave’s out of his box, trying to hobble over probably already imagining our future life together, the tubby little kids we’d turn out.
Max takes off and turns the corner. I rake at my tongue with my fingers. “Ew. Ew. Ew.”
“What happened?”
I shoot him a look that could kill, trying once more to stop myself painting his dash with vomit. “Let’s just say I had to resort to desperate measures.”
Max smiles. “Holy shit. You kissed him, didn’t you?”
“I had no choice—do or die and all that.”
Max starts to crack up, thumping the wheel. I should kill him, but this is the first time I’ve seen him so genuinely happy. He’s almost in tears. “Oh, man. The money I would have paid to see that. Was it good? Was he a master lover? Was there tongue?” He looks across to my stony face. “Shit. There was, wasn’t there?”
“You better shut up real soon. What took you so long, anyhow?” I jiggle in my seat. “I thought you were from the hood, hot-wiring cars and hitting bitches and all that?”
Another fit of laughter overcomes him. “So I’m out of practice. Sue me. How about your guard friend back there? I bet he knew what he was doing, am I right?” The wink is too much.
“Har-de-har-har,” I slur sarcastically. “What about the rental car?”
“Bobby will have one of his goons pick it up.” He shakes his head, returning back to the topic of choice. “I can’t believe you kissed him. I said distract him, not start a relationship.”
“You’re about one word away from my foot up you’re a-hole.”
He puckers his lips. “Can I have a kiss first?”
I cross my arms, still trying to rid my mouth of the horrid jerky-coffee combo. “Not funny. Not funny at all.”
I see a gas station ahead. “Pull in.”
Max checks the dash. “We’ve got plenty of gas.”
“Just do it.”
“Why, what do you need?”
I look at him deadpan. “Mouthwash. All the mouthwash.”
Max
I still can’t get over it, but I try to stifle laughter as I lean up against the Camino around the back of the gas station.
Dawn’s gargling mouthwash, spitting it daintily into the spindly desert bushes, repeating. She’s been at it for almost five minutes.
“Maybe drain cleaner would do a better job,” I offer.
She swipes the beer from my hand and begins to chug it down, mouthwash still in one hand. She wipes her mouth. “You were saying?” She goes to hand the beer back, but I push it back to her. “Keep it.”
She sticks her tongue out, scraping it with her finger again. “It’s like there’s a damn dumpster in my mouth.”
“Hey,” I start. “At least you made Dave’s day. I bet he hasn’t been frenched like that since the fifth grade.”
Dawn leans over and looks like she might puke. She holds the side of the car for support. “Given his technique, I don’t think Dave’s done a lot of kissing lately.”
“You think he kisses his mother with that mouth?”
Dawn retches.
I can’t stop laughing.
“Now you’re just playing,” she says.
“Am not.”
“Am too.”
“You could always kiss me, you know.”
She looks up. “For being such an asshole? No thanks.”
“Asshole?” I repeat. “You’re bringing out the big guns now, huh? What’s next? Are you going to say the K word?”
She looks puzzled. “The K word?”
I pucker my lips again. “Kiss me, beautiful.”
She stands, placing the beer and mouthwash on top of the car, poking me in the chest. “Watch it, buddy. You might be some big, bad tough guy, but I’m no pushover.”
“Could have fooled me.” It’s adorable seeing her defensive like this. I have a mind to bend her over the hood and pound her senseless, see if that ass is as tight as it looks, but I doubt she’d be open to it right now.
“You done?”
I salute. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Maybe you can use those lucky lips of yours on Bobby.”
But even as I say it, even as I joke, I can’t help the feelings of jealousy that swirl in my head. I’d do anything to have her lips on mine, on my chest, my cock. Given that, Donut King back there at the impound yard’s doing a lot better than I am.
“Should we check the trunk?” Dawn suggests as we roll up to the Wild Horse again.
I shake my head. “Not a good idea. Ignorance is bliss and all that.”
“Just a peek?”
I open the driver’s door. “In and out, remember?”
This time Bobby’s waiting for us in his office upstairs.
Unlike the counting room downstairs, his office is well-f
urnished and expansive. There’s even a family portrait on the wall, two small boys smiling back at me. I wonder what it’s like having a crime lord for a father.
At least they have one.
I think about Lucy, Saul’s daughter, the pop star in the making. She’s got the voice, that’s for sure, but I wonder if she knows what her daddy gets up to behind closed doors, what exactly funds her monster wardrobe of designer clothes and luxurious lifestyle. Perhaps it’s better she stays ignorant to it all.
Bobby remains seated, motioning us forward.
He leans across his desk to scrutinize me. “I see you met Dale.”
“And Dale met my fist,” I reply.
Bobby narrows his eyes. “Did you kill him? Because if you did our little deal is off the table. Dead men and debts don’t do well together.”
I can see the way Bobby asks it, so nonchalantly, scares Dawn. He’s a man with such small concern for human life.
What does it say about me that it doesn’t even register on my radar?
I bring my shoulders back. “That’s not how I do things.”
Bobby laughs. “That’s how Saul does things, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” I continue. “But rest assured I left Dale sore, but alive, fully able to pay back his debt. Judging by the welcome we received, I don’t think he’ll be the only one jumping to line your pockets.”
Another crocodile smile. Bobby nods, looking Dawn over. “Good. Very good, and the car?”
“Parked downstairs,” I say.
Bobby looks to Dawn. “Did you look in the trunk?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
He smiles again. “Good. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t have to be witness to that kind of thing.”
My stomach knots. I want to break this guy.
Keep calm, I tell myself. This will all be over soon.
Bobby swipes a snow globe off his desk, shaking it as he comes around to the front of his desk. Closer, I see there’s a scene from Scarface inside it, Tony Montana with gun raised, feet in a pool of blood, snow whirling around him. Where the hell do you even get something like that? He throws it up and catches it. “I once put a hole in someone’s head with this thing—crushed their skull like an egg shell. Good times.” He places the snow globe back down. “You know, Max, I could use your kind of muscle. If you’re ever looking for a change of—”
“Not interested.”
Bobby turns his attention to Dawn. “And you, baby doll. Ass and face like yours could make a lot of money in the right place.”
The knot tightens further. I’m seeing fucking red again. It’s blotting out reason. “She’s not interested either.”
“I’m sure the lady can speak for herself.”
Dawn simply shakes her head, eyes downcast.
Bobby throws his hands up, returning to his chair and leaning back. “You’ve been given a reprieve, my friend. Your fight’s been moved to tomorrow.”
Thank fuck for that. Fighting in my current state was going to be an issue. At least now I’ll have a chance to recover somewhat.
Externally, I remain unmoved.
“But,” continues Bobby ominously. “You’re going up against O’Neil.”
“Kurt O’Neil?” I say.
Bobby nods slowly. “You know him?”
“I’ve heard of him.”
“Good, so you know he’s no fucking pushover. You know they’ve measured his punches at 1500psi? That is a fucking punch.”
“We’ll see,” comes my stony reply.
Bobby laughs, clapping his hands together. “Oh, I like you. Don’t make me mop you up in the morning.”
I flick my head at Dawn. “Let’s go.”
I hear something land on the desk. We both turn.
Bobby’s placed two towering stacks of casino chips there. He tosses two room cards onto the pile. “For your trouble. Hang around. Stay. Have a little fun. It’s fucking Vegas.”
I don’t move.
Bobby waves Dawn forward. “Take them, sweetheart.”
Dawn takes the chips and cards cautiously, following me out.
When we’re back in the main foyer, she goes to hand me half the chips, but I push them back. “No, you take them.”
She looks down at the chips in her hands. “Should I even use these? A guy like that doesn’t just give away money, does he?”
I smile. “Haven’t you heard the saying ‘the house always wins’?”
Dawn winks. “We’ll see about that.”
What harm could it do? “Take them. Have some fun, but know when to stop. You don’t want to owe a guy like Bobby.”
“You’re not coming?”
I look to the side. “I’ve got a personal matter to deal with. I should only be a couple of hours.”
“A personal matter?”
“I’m going to see my father.”
The surprise is clear on her face. “He’s here, in Vegas?”
“That’s right.”
“You used to live here, in Vegas.”
“Once upon a time.”
I don’t want to elaborate further, and she doesn’t push. She reaches out and takes my hand.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
I squeeze her hand. “You’ll be fine as long as you’re here,” he says. “Bobby’s a fucking scumbag, but he’s an honorable one. He wouldn’t dare touch Saul’s property.”
“I’m not the property of anyone.”
“You sure about that? Stay here, use the chips.” I reach into my pocket and hand her a fistful of crumpled notes. “In case you need a drink. I sure as hell could go for one.”
I go to walk away, our hands separating. I feel the loss deep in my gut. I was enjoying the contact far more than I should. I wanted more—a lot more. I can’t deny I haven’t thought about it, about what being with a girl like Dawn would be like, but what then? What about the ever-after? I don’t know if I’m even capable of settling down. I don’t know if I could ever truly keep her safe. It would be best if she stayed away—far away.
I leave these thoughts behind and go again to leave.
Once more, Dawn asks me to stay, reaching out to grip my arm. She holds up the room cards. “At least have a quick look at the room.”
Leave, but possibility beckons and try as I might I can’t resist the temptation. “Ten minutes,” I tell her. “That’s all.”
Dawn
It turns out the room cards are for one of the penthouse suites on the sixth floor. The casino itself is as gaudy as it gets, but I lap it up all the same.
A bellboy guides us in. “Welcome to the Emperor Suite.”
Max tips him and sends him on his way, looking awfully pleased to close the door and shut the world out.
I step into the main lounge and spin, eyes wide. “The Emperor Suite. That sounds familiar?”
Max leans against the wall. “You’re thinking of the Emperor Suite at Caesar’s Palace, the one the movie The Hangover was based on.”
I clap my hands together. “I love that movie.” I pause. “Wait, does that mean there’s a tiger in the bathroom?”
He pushes off the wall, walking towards me. “The only animals you need to worry about here are downstairs.”
He’s standing right before me, so close. His amber eyes lure me in, beg me to drink from the forbidden cup, and I do with every flush nerve of my body. Here, before me, is the most striking man I have known, a man who has already proved how far he will go to protect me.
My nostrils flare, my breathing deepening and not a word passes between us.
My body dares me to act.
But it’s Max who makes the first move, closing the distance between us fast and taking my head in his hands, pulling me into the kiss.
Max’s hands are rough, but the kiss is surprisingly tender. There is an understated urgency to it, a thirst unlike any I have felt before.
I pull myself away breathless, the smooth, liquor taste of his lips lingering on my own.
I look up into his eyes. “What do you want? Tell me.”
He’s breathing heavily too, but when he speaks it’s firm and unyielding—an order.
“I want you to lie down and spread your legs.”
He speaks to me as if I’m a child, but I nod all the same. I need the release, a junkie hungering for a fix. Logic doesn’t even enter into the equation. It’s been too long since I was with a man. The need wells up, the space between my legs growing hot and heavy.
You can forget what’s happening, I tell myself. If only for a moment. You can be safe in his arms.
He stands away and takes hold of the hem of my dress, lifting it up and over my head, the fabric momentarily catches on the hard pinpoints of my nipples.
He kneels, fingers gliding up the side of my leg, over my thigh, hooking into the crotch of my panties and pulling them down. He unhooks them off my ankle, holding it in his hand like it was made of glass, worshipping it. I can smell my arousal, the wetness that’s already gathering at my core.
Slowly, he lifts me, guides us to the nearest bedroom and lets me down as if conducting a baptism. There, exposed, I am comatose in his arms.
His thumb presses against my inner thigh. I gasp for air as my nerves there light up all the way to the tips of my fingers.
He kneels up onto the bed and pulls his shirt off, tossing it to the floor as his head sinks between my legs.
I claw my fingers into the sheets as his mouth presses against the hot opening of my sex. His tongue shifts forward, burrowing deep inside my slit. I melt against his face, mewing and rolling. He holds my thigh in one hand, thumb pressing into the soft flesh there again. I smile, cry, and giggle—hysterical with emotion as his other hand finds its way to my clit.
My upper back bows. The flat of his thumb covers the sensitive button at the top of my sex, rubbing and pressing until I’m levitating from the sheets.
I speak only in expletive gasps. Ah. Ah. Ah.
He cups my ass with both hands, drawing me into him, trying to meld us together as one. I’m split so wide and wet his tongue seems to travel right through me.
“Yes,” I breathe.
His hands slide underneath my back and come to rest just below my shoulder blades. He lifts me from the bed and I wrap my legs around him.
