Tequila & Lace

by Kimberly Knight

  The more I got to really know Paul, the more he was chipping away at my resolve. I didn’t come here with the intention of getting into any kind of relationship, but he was slowly working his way in …

  And I loved it.

  Paul sat us up with my knees straddling his hips and softly ran his lips over mine before I advanced again. It was as if my mouth was designed for his. I parted my lips, inviting the invasion of his tongue. He swept one hand to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss while the other hand traveled down and wrapped around my lower back to hold me tighter.

  As though someone had flipped a switch, the sky opened up and started pouring. On instinct, I started to stand and make a bee line for the nearest cover, but before I could lift myself up, he grabbed my arm and stilled me.

  “Wait …” he pleaded. He was wearing his usual devious smile.

  Being in this moment with him I felt happy and free. Like I didn’t have a care in the world. It was just us—Andi and Paul—enjoying the here and now, and I didn’t want it to end.

  I tipped my head back feeling the rain on my face and spread my arms out to the sides. Paul’s hands gripped my hips, making their way around my waist. I looked back down at him and laughed. Needing to touch him, I brought my hands back and ran them through his finger length brown hair. He dipped his head, resting against my chest and in response, I simply wrapped my arms around him. I knew what he was saying without him speaking a single word. I felt it too.

  And it scared the hell out of me.

  “Should I be jealous?” Paul asked as I came into the living room dressed for my date.

  I looked down at my fire engine red dress. “It’s not my fault you told me to dress casual for our two dates.”

  He pulled me down so I was straddling him on the couch and it caused me to squeal. “But I’m the lucky one who gets to see you in your pajamas.”

  I smiled and leaned forward to kiss him briefly. “Exactly and you’re gonna make me late.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “The Palazzo to play craps.”

  “Do you know how to play?”

  I shook my head and laughed. “Do I even need to know how to play?”

  “Not looking like this.” He laughed and ran his hands up both of my bare thighs until they rested on my ass. Goosebumps pricked my skin and that butterfly feeling returned to the pit of my stomach.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  “Well, I’m going to wing it, blow on the dice, flirt.” I shrugged.

  He groaned. “Yeah, this whole dating other people thing isn’t working.”

  “How do you think I felt all week?”

  He leaned his head back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, but not removing his hands from my butt. “I never thought I was a jealous man before you.”

  “I thought you didn’t date before me?”

  He raised his head just enough so his gaze could meet mine. “No, I said I hadn’t been in a serious relationship in a long time.”

  I smirked. “So we’re in a serious relationship?”

  The grip on my ass tightened and he moved in one swift motion so I was laying on the couch and he was hovering over me, one leg on the floor. “Yeah, gorgeous, we are.”

  “I’m kidding, sugar lips.”

  “Sugar lips?” He grinned.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I’ve upgraded to a nickname?”

  I nodded.

  “I guess it could be worse like,” he paused for a beat, “dingleberry.”

  I laughed—hard. My stomach clenching and tears pricking my eyes. If I didn’t stop, I would have to fix my makeup and for sure be late for my date. “Dingleberry?” I finally said, still with laughter in my voice.

  “Do you know what a dingleberry is?”

  I chuckled again at the visual. “I do, and if you want me to call you a turd, I will.”

  He kissed my lips. “Sugar lips is better.”

  “Good. Now I’m really going to be late.” I pushed on his chest so he would let me up off the couch.

  He kissed me one last time.

  When I was walking out the door, he yelled, “Are you sure you don’t want to blow me for luck first?”

  After valet parking, I walked into the Palazzo and found my way to the LAVO Lounge where I was meeting Derrick. My back office instructions said that he would be waiting for me before we hit the tables. The LAVO Lounge has a bar and restaurant on one side and a nightclub on the other. I’d been told it could get pretty steamy on the dance floor.

  When I entered the swank, dimly lit bar, I scanned it for Derrick. The lounge could be described as a modern day speakeasy with deep crimson plush furnishings, rich woods throughout, and high back chairs to make any man feel like a king. I spotted Derrick sitting at the bar, dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a charcoal grey button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He was definitely easy on the eyes and I questioned why he would hire an escort. He’d mentioned he had a wife at home.

  He turned and smiled. “Andi with an I.” He stood and I leaned in to kiss his cheek.

  “Hello, sweetie.”

  “Baby girl, I’m anything but sweet.”

  “Is that right?”

  He winked. “Maybe you’ll find out.” I laughed, ignoring the innuendo. “Margarita again?” He nodded to his drink and that’s when I saw his forearm and the dragon tattoo sticking out of the rolled up sleeve.

  In his suit, Derrick looked like a well-dressed business man, but underneath I would bet he was tatted up. Not everyone is who they appear to be. Some people will do anything to appear to be the perfect person on the outside.

  “Yes, on the rocks with salt please.”

  “I remember.” He nodded to the bartender.

  I sat in the empty chair and waited for my drink. “So, what kind of business are you in town for?”

  With a straight face he answered, “Porn.”

  I laughed. “Well, we are in Vegas after all, but I wasn’t expecting that answer. What are you an actor?” I glanced down at his tattoo and then back up to his eyes.

  His gaze followed mine and he laughed. “No, I’m only kidding. I’m a salesman trying to get our shit in every hotel on the strip.”

  The bartender placed my drink in front of me and I took a sip. “What kind of shit?”

  “The toiletries in the hotel rooms.”

  “Really? That’s cool.”

  “Not really.” He laughed and took a pull of his beer. “But I don’t want to talk about work, Andi with an I.” He grabbed a piece of my long dark brown hair, twirling the end then releasing it.

  I smiled. “Other than strip clubs, what’s a man like you do for fun in Sin City?”

  “I only gamble with a lucky charm because I always lose, and I hate going to the corny shows by myself, so I just like to look at tits and ass.” His gaze roamed up and down my legs then rested on my boobs before finally my eyes as he waited for my response.

  I grabbed my drink, took the final sips and stood, ready to get the show on the road.

  The cheers of people could be heard all around us as we walked toward the tables of the Palazzo. People smoked cigarettes, drank and bumped into us—basically it was your typical Saturday night in Vegas.

  “Do you know how to play?” Derrick asked as we got closer. His hand was in mine, but it felt weird. It wasn’t Paul’s and I missed him. I missed his smell, his touch, his laugh, his voice, and it hadn’t even been two hours. It was probably because I was out with another man. Yeah, this whole dating other people thing sucked, but I had no leads on the sex trafficking situation and I had to keep going until I did.

  I shook my head. “I’m more of a blackjack girl.”

  “Let’s try craps and see what happens. I want to see your mouth blow something.”

  My gaze darted to his. “I’m good at that.” I really wasn’t. I’d never given a blowjob a day in my life. We could thank the curse
for that.

  He groaned as we stepped up to the table. “I bet you are, baby girl. Damn … I bet you are.”

  I smiled up at him and waited for him to place his bet, but he didn’t. “Why aren’t you placing a bet?” I whispered.

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer to him. “I’m waiting to become the shooter.” He kissed the top of my head. I nodded as if I knew what that meant—I had no idea.

  The cocktail waitress came over and we both ordered drinks. Finally, Derrick placed a bet on the pass line. I couldn’t tell how much, but the table had a minimum of twenty dollars per bet. He was passed the dice and then he reached out for me to blow on them. I leaned forward and blew.

  When I looked up, all eyes were on me and I smiled, wondering if they thought I was his girlfriend or his mistress—I guess I kinda was both. When I continued to scan the table, my gaze fell on familiar brown ones. I tilted my head in question and she waved.

  “What are you doing here?” I mouthed. She didn’t say anything as she started to walk toward me.

  Derrick turned to me and said, “Our number is eight.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We rolled an eight. We can’t roll an eight or our turn is over.”

  “How do we win money?”

  He was already reaching to place chips down on the ten. “We have to roll a ten now, Andi with an I.” He held up his hand with the dice and I blew. He rolled a three.

  I frowned. “Aw, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not an eight.” He laughed.

  “We keep going?”

  He nodded and placed more chips on the two on the green felt table and I looked over at the girl from the strip club that told me about Mr. Martinez. She was standing next to me, waiting for me to acknowledge her, but Derrick was in the middle of betting. He reached out again with the dice for me to blow on and I did. He tossed them on the table.

  “Yes!” I cheered as I counted the two die; he’d rolled snake eyes. He hugged me then grabbed his winnings and the dice. “More?” I asked.

  “We go until we roll an eight.” He chuckled.

  “Oh,” I stammered and turned quickly to the chick next to me. “What are you doing here?” I whispered again.

  “I saw you over here and wanted to come say hi.”

  “I’m working.”

  “I know.”

  Derrick turned to me and I smiled up and him and blew. I wasn’t sure which number he placed a bet on; I just hoped he won.

  “Let’s talk after your date is over,” she continued.

  I wanted to tell her to fuck off because I wanted to go straight home to Paul, but I was here to do a job both for S&R and the FBI. I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll meet you at the valet at midnight.”

  Cheers erupted around the table. Derrick turned and we hugged. He must have won. When he turned to grab the dice, the girl was gone.

  “Pick a number, baby girl,” Derrick offered, holding chips out to place a bet.

  I looked at the table, leaned closer and then back to him. “Five.”

  “If I roll a five, you have to kiss me.”

  I smiled. “Okay.” I blew on the dice again and sure enough he threw a five. Without hesitation, I stood and wrapped my arms around his neck, planting my lips on his. It was nothing like kissing Paul. I felt nothing. There were no butterflies in my stomach, no drip in my panties, nothing.

  I blew on the dice again and he threw an eight, the crowd groaned and he drew me to him.

  “What does that mean again?”

  “We lost and my turn is over.”

  “Aw man.”

  “I won a grand, though,” he beamed, riffling his chips.

  “So I am your lucky charm?”

  He pulled me to him and kissed me again. “Yeah, you sure are.”

  We stayed at the table while he placed bets on other shooters until he was the shooter a few more times. Twice he won on the come out roll. I was starting to believe I was really his lucky charm because he was racking in the dough.

  The date was coming to an end and I was walking him toward the elevators where I was going to say goodbye.

  “Come up to my room with me, Andi with an I.” His arms wrapped around my waist, his body flush with mine as he leaned into me and against the waiting elevator wall.

  “Sweetie, you know I can’t do that.”

  “I’ll pay extra,” he whispered into my ear.

  “Let’s not ruin a good thing.”

  He pulled his head back and stared into my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “You just won a lot of money. Go call your wife.”

  “Right. I paid for a hooker and I can’t even get laid. Just like at home.”

  “Derrick, I’m not a hooker. There’s a difference.”

  He jabbed his finger repeatedly for the elevator. “Just go.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  My heart broke a little as I walked away and he got into the elevator. I turned slightly and saw his head hung low as the doors closed. I wanted to run back and hug him. Even though he was a client, I’d had a really good time with him. I had no interest in him romantically, but I could tell he was a good guy. I’d thought for sure he’d hired me because he slept around on his wife, not because his wife wasn’t sleeping with him at home.

  Like his hidden tattoo, you never knew what people were hiding.

  When I made it out to valet, it had slipped my mind that Martinez’s girl would be waiting for me, but sure enough she was. She was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette and staring at her cell phone as I approached her.

  I slid in beside her. “I didn’t think you’d come,” she remarked blowing smoke above our heads.

  “Had to come get my car.”

  “Where did you want to go to talk?”

  “We can talk right here,” I suggested.

  “Suit yourself. Are you enjoying your time here, honey?”

  “It’s Vegas. How could you not?” I gave a nervous laugh.

  She laughed, too. “You still haven’t seen the half of it. You’re going to be a fun cherry to pop. Let’s not beat around the bush here …”

  “Andi. And you are?”

  “Jasmine.” She reached out her hand and we shook like we were having a business meeting. Maybe we were. “Listen, Andi, what if I told you I could triple what you make on one of your pathetic, boring dates?”

  I laughed, my eyebrows scrunching. “Who said my dates are boring? I just had a great time at the craps table.”

  “Oh come on, Andi. I know girls like you. Every girl wants a little more … fun. Besides, you’re missing the bigger picture here. I’m talking about a very comfortable income, plus some extracurricular activities. Listen, before you say anything,” she continued, “I’ve spoken with my boss about you. Someone with your … innocence could be beneficial.” Her gaze roamed my bare legs and I felt violated. “Here’s my card. When you’re ready for a little more excitement, you know how to reach me.”

  I reached for her card and our fingers brushed. Hers lingered, and I wanted to pull mine away, but didn’t. I kept them there as long as she wanted because I was playing the part of Andi, not Joss.

  “How do you know I’m innocent?” I asked, biting my lip.

  Her free hand reached down and rested on my bare thigh. “Honey, I’ve been in this business long enough. I know them when I see them.”

  “How many other girls are there?”

  “There’s enough, but we always want more. Especially ones like you.” She stood. “Think about it, Andi. You have my card.”

  “Wait! I want to meet the others so I can think about it more.” I didn’t have time to think about it. This was it. I needed to get in with Jasmine, meet more girls, find out who Martinez was. There was a reason Leah and Nina had told me to stay away, and if my hunch was right, it was the reason I came to Vegas.

  “I knew you’d be perfect. Meet us at PT’s on E. Tropicana. Wednesday night at ten.” With that,
she left.

  I stood and handed the valet attendant my claim ticket. I needed this lead to work or I’d be back to square one.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Paul

  The entire time I was on my date, I was thinking about Andi on her date. It wasn’t because I couldn’t trust her. It was because I was thinking about her blowing … blowing me to be more specific.

  We’d been seeing each other for a week and all we’d done was kiss. There was nothing wrong with that, but let’s be real … I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to fuck her so fucking hard. I wanted to be buried so deep inside her that she was screaming my name and the neighbors were questioning if they should call for help.

  It had been weeks—hell, I think it was going on months since I’d last gotten laid, and I was aching. My hand wasn’t doing the job anymore, and the more Andi strutted around in her short dresses and braless morning T-shirts, the more I was starting to lose it. I was trying not to show it when I was with her, but when I was alone in my bed at night, I worked myself good. I wanted Andi to work me, though. I wanted her hand, her mouth, her pussy—I wanted her to pleasure me, not my hand.

  Andi wasn’t home from her date when I got home from mine, so I went to shower. When I came out, she was in her shower and I was half-tempted to join her but decided against it. Instead, I went to the living room and waited for her to finish. When she came out—braless—my eyes drifted to her chest then to her eyes.

  “Gorgeous,” I greeted her.

  “Sugar lips.” She laughed.

  I motioned for her to come cuddle with me on the couch and she did, but not before kissing me.

  “Did you win?”

  “Well, not me, but my client did.”

  “That’s what I meant.” I wrapped her in my arms so she was lying in front of me as I spooned her from behind.

  “Can we talk about it in the morning? I’m exhausted.” She sighed as she got comfortable against me.

  I kissed her bare shoulder that was exposed from her tank top. “Yeah, gorgeous, we can.”