His Redheaded Sl*t

by Vivian Ward

  “Oh, surely, I’m not boring you already, am I?” I ask. “You know, I have the perfect remedy for that.”

  “Really? What’s that?” She asks, batting her long, thick lashes at me. Her makeup is a bit dark, yet natural at the same time. She could be a model. She should be a model. But I don’t think she realizes just how beautiful she is.

  I like the fact that she’s playing along. Maybe I won’t have to spank her too hard. “You see those slots? After work, we could have a drink and hang out at the casino for a bit.” She hesitates for a moment and right as she’s about to speak, I cut her off. “My treat,” I add.

  “As nice as that sounds, Mr. Anderson, I don’t think it’s professional to date the patrons that come to the bar, so thanks but no thanks.”

  “Please, call me Aaron.” I pick up my glass and toast it toward her before taking a drink. “We’re on a first name basis. It’s not like we’re strangers.” A slight smile pulls at her sweet lips that I’ve been dreaming of kissing for months now. “Would you like me to leave so that I’m no longer a patron, and then we can go on our date?”

  “No, that’s not necessary.” Her eyes bulge for a split second. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

  I know she’s lying. Anyone could see it a mile away. “What’s his name?” I ask. A small worry line spreads across her face as she scrambles to think of a name. “It’s okay, Scarlett. You don’t have to lie to me, but just know that I’m not leaving this hotel until we go on a date.”

  Her mouth opens and closes several times as she tries to form words before she finally speaks. “My boss, he’s a complete ass, and I’m not exactly on his good side. I don’t want to do anything to piss him off if you know what I mean.”

  “What’s your boss’s name?” I ask her.

  “Maximo Donatello,” she whispers. I know the name well, and it’s not for good reasons. “But I call him Assimo Fatsimo.” A long giggle bubbles out of her, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  Her long, red hair and fair skin are gorgeous. Girls like her are a rare find—a complete gem. “You know, Scarlett, your mother should have named you Ruby.”

  “What? Why?” She stops laughing.

  “Because you’re such a rare treasure,” I tell her. And I mean it.

  Her smile widens for just a second before it quickly disappears. I know I’ve embarrassed her, but it’s true. And what a lucky guy I am to have found her.

  “I’d better get back to work,” she says, fidgeting with her tray. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.”

  Before I can hold her up anymore, she saunters away. Sipping my drink, I watch her work from afar. If she were my girl, she wouldn’t have to work. I’ve got enough money that she could enjoy her days by taking a refreshing dip in my pool during the summer or stay in and enjoy my hot tub in the winter. I hate seeing her work here with all these guys ogling over her and now that I know her boss is an ass, I hate it even more.

  Another hour goes by, and I’m on my second drink when a couple of guys walk in and sit two tables over from me. They’re completely obnoxious, and I don’t like the looks of them one bit, so I keep an eye on them when Scarlett approaches their table.

  “Hey babe,” they say to her. “You have any drink specials tonight?”

  “We do,” she says before happily reciting them. “What can I get you guys?”

  The guy to her right hooks his arm around the back of her waist and says, “How about you?” Both of the men look at each other and smile at one another like the assholes they are.

  I’m not sure if she’s playing innocent or just trying to downplay their sexual innuendo, but she smiles her beautiful smile, parting those sexy lips and says, “I prefer hurricanes or Vegas bombs, but they’re all good.”

  Their eyes prey on her, undressing her as she stands at their tableside. I want to get up and deck them, but I decide to see how it plays out before I intervene. Scarlett’s a sassy little thing, and I know it won’t be long before she tells them where to shove it—or maybe not.

  “Yeah? You look good,” the other guy says to her as he reaches for her hand. She quickly pulls it away from him and tries to remove the other man’s arm from around her waist.

  “Sorry, I’m not on the menu,” she tries to wiggle away.

  The asshole who had his arm planted firmly around her isn’t having it and doubles down, tightening his grip on her. “Oh come on,” he says. “Dressed like that? Everything’s on the menu, right?”

  She tries to speak up, but he’s too busy pulling her down onto his lap. Clearly, the jerk is overpowering her, and I’ve had enough.

  Rising from my seat, I bow out my chest and say, “Excuse me, I believe the lady is trying to do her job. Why don’t you let go of her?”

  Both of them look up at me, and it feels like an eternity goes by before they start laughing, but he doesn’t let her go. “Mind your business, man. Don’t you have something better to do?” Squirming on his lap, her legs flail to get away, and this is my final straw.

  Before I realize what I’m doing, my fist makes contact with his jaw, and his head goes flying back. His grip loosens on Scarlett, and she quickly scrambles to get away. The other asshole rises just as fast as he can, “Hey, dude! What’s your fucking problem? We were just having a little fun.”

  “Your fun is up. It’s time to go,” I say to them.

  But before I can get a chance to grab the jerks by the collars, the hotel security has a hold of all three of us, moving us toward the door.

  4

  Scarlett

  I can’t believe he just hit that guy! Who the hell does he think he is hitting my customers?

  But damn it was so sexy.

  Maybe I misjudged him. He has money, given his designer clothes and expensive leather shoes but I hadn’t pegged him as a fighter. It might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  No man has ever stood up for me like that, nor has anyone ever decked another guy for me. In fact, I don’t think any men have ever fought over me.

  I look back over my shoulder and see all of my co-workers standing near the counter, watching. All of them are utterly helpless to my situation, but the one I’m worried about the most is Kitty. She’s the hotel owner’s daughter and her opinion matters most. Lucky for me, we get along great but I don’t want anything negative about me getting back to her dad.

  My eyes meet hers, and she gives me a sympathetic glance, matching the rest of the girls. Whew. At least I don’t have to worry about her thinking poorly of me, and I doubt she was the one who called security. She almost looks like she feels bad for me.

  Almost.

  But there’s no way I could ever be with a guy like Aaron. Rich, charming, sexy, and a fighter? I don’t care how many lottery tickets I could buy in a lifetime; I’d never hit it once. He’s way out of my league. I’m sure he’s used to more worldly women who come from wealthy families and know which side of the plate silverware is supposed to go.

  I come from a place where most of the food is eaten with your fingers, we eat off paper plates, and the family only goes grocery shopping on double coupon day at the Piggly Wiggly. He’d probably be more comfortable with someone who’s traveled the world, orders their groceries online or has someone buy them for him. The only reason I left Missouri is because I wanted to experience the nightlife that Sin City has to offer and have some fun before I’m too old to enjoy my youth.

  I’m only 25, but Missouri had grown tiresome. You can only go to the St. Louis clubs every so often before it felt like you were doing the same thing every time you went. All of the faces were familiar—and unwelcoming. In Vegas, everyone belongs because nobody belongs. People move here all the time, and it’s a giant melting pot, so nobody sticks out.

  I’d imagine Aaron’s about five or six years older than me, and he’s dangerously handsome. He stands well over six feet tall, which may as well be a giant compared to me, and his emerald green eyes vastly contrast
against his black hair. He’s literally every woman’s dream.

  And did I mention that he punched a guy for me? For me!

  I didn’t get a chance to stop any of it as it was happening because it all happened so fast and someone called hotel security—probably Scar Face who’s our new bartender. His name’s Mike, and he’s a little mysterious. Nobody quite knows much about him, but I have a feeling he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t put up with shit.

  Watching Aaron being escorted out with those two creeps doesn’t feel right. He was only trying to protect me from those idiots who were being a little too touchy-feely.

  He glances over his shoulder and winks at me just before he’s whisked through the door and out of sight. My heart flutters when I think about what he did for me.

  Lucy’s quick to rush by my side and Tempest joins her. “What was that all about?” She gasps.

  Waving my hand in the air, I try to pretend it was nothing but was it? I mean, he punched a guy for me. “Oh, it was nothing. Those two guys were creeps,” I explain.

  Inside, my heart is doing little flips and my brain is screaming at me to give him a chance. But I play it cool like everything was no big deal.

  “Yeah, but Mr. Lover Boy in the business suit decked one of those guys,” Tempest says. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the violence excites her.

  Lucy jumps up and down in her heels. “Yeah, he socked it to him! You have to find him and go talk to him.”

  Is she kidding? She wants me to chase down a guy who, apparently, has the hots for me and won’t take no for an answer? I’ll never get out of saying no to him and will always be indebted to him if I say thank you. Actually, I kind of already am. I mean, I do sort of owe it to him to at least say thanks for sticking up for me. The douchebag had me on his disgusting lap for goodness sake.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “No. Go. Now,” Lucy insists. “You’re due for a break anyway. Now go before I find him for you and start making stuff up.”

  I gasp at her. “You wouldn’t!”

  “She would, and I’d back her,” Tempest says, firmly folding her arms.

  “What? You too? Why are you on her side?” I huff. Tempest is never on Lucy’s side and is usually telling her to knock it off.

  “Because I know a good thing when I see it. You may not be able to tell, but that guy, he’s golden. He’s got money, seems to be decent and has his shit together. He even knows how to handle his shit,” Tempest says.

  “What does that even mean?” I ask.

  “It means I’ve had a really shitty past so I can spot the good ones. Listen to Lucy. We’ll cover for you.”

  Lucy beams at her, nodding her head in triumph as she points her finger toward the door.

  “Fine,” I whine as I hand her my tray. “But when this all blows up on me, I’m going to say I told you so,” I say to them.

  They both snicker and mumble as I make my way out the door. Walking through the lobby, I stop by the front desk and ask the night clerk what room my fighter is in. Of course, I don’t refer to him as that—at least not to her.

  “Mr. Anderson is staying in one of the suites. Is there a problem?”

  This new night clerk is a pain in my ass. She does everything by the books and isn’t very friendly. It’s probably because she’s in her late 50’s and is a widow but that doesn’t mean she can be rude to everyone. “No, there’s no problem. He left his credit card in the LBD, and I thought I’d deliver it to him while I’m on break,” I lie. “I’ve only got a few minutes so if you could just tell me which suite, I’ll be on my way.”

  She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her broad nose and says, “He’s in the presidential suite.”

  With that, I hop on the elevator and ride up to the floor with all the suites. My nerves are beginning to form a ball in the pit of my stomach, and I can feel my palms starting to sweat. I can’t believe that I’m heading to his room of all places! This is insane. It’s probably a terrible idea, but even as I weigh my decision, I find myself knocking on his door.

  After a few failed attempts to get him to answer, I turn around to leave, and that’s when I hear his voice say my name.

  “Scarlett?” I can hear the smile on his lips without even seeing him. I’m sure he’s delighted to see me standing in front of the door to his room.

  When my head finally catches up with my body, I see him walking up the hallway toward me from the elevator. “Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to intrude on your stay but I just wanted to say thank you for what you did down in the bar.”

  He leans his hand against the wall and shifts his body closer to me, almost cornering me against the wall. “It was my pleasure. I tried to let my little fiery redhead take care of herself, but I wasn’t going to let those guys get away with that.”

  My cheeks begin to heat as he stares into my eyes, so I nervously shift my glance to my shoes. His seductiveness is beginning to get the best of me, but I can’t let that happen.

  “Thank you,” I manage to say, looking up at him through my long, heavy lashes.

  “Why don’t you come in?” He gestures toward his door. “I can fix you a drink and show you what a real man is like.”

  He sneaks a wink in, which incidentally also exposes a slight dimple. God, he’s so irresistible! I can actually feel my ovaries doing somersaults for this man.

  “I’d better get back to work,” I say, and begin walking away.

  He grabs my wrist, pulling me back to him before pinning them to the wall above my head. “You know, if you’d just give me a chance—just one night—I promise, you’d never regret it.”

  5

  Aaron

  A small giggle escapes her throat as she stares into my eyes. Her defiance is making me rock hard beneath my slacks, and I bet the little devil knows it!

  “Just one night, huh?” She says, stifling her laughter. “Well, well, Mr. Anderson, I’d say you’re pretty sure of yourself.”

  My cock twitches, begging to be inside this firecracker. I’d like to make more than just fireworks explode. “I am, and this could all be yours,” I tease, waving my hand down the front of my torso.

  “As tempting as that sounds, I need to get going.”

  In one swift movement, she slides out from my hold and saunters down the hall, teasing me with every step she takes. Her hips sway a little more than usual, making her ass appear even rounder than I’d like to remember. I imagine all the naughty things I could do to her before she breaks the silence. “Good night, Mr. Anderson. Have a good sleep,” she calls from the elevator as she gets inside and pushes the button.

  That woman is driving me stark raving mad. I’d love to put her little defiant ass in its place, but first, I want to show her how I’d treat her if she were mine. I’d give her the world, and we could go on so many different adventures. I could take her flying in my private jet, maybe on a nice vacation to an exotic island. She’s not even mine, yet I’m planning all of the places I could take her.

  There’s no way I can go back down to the bar tonight. Security will escort me out of there faster than they threw me out if they see me trying to get back in. I’ll wait until tomorrow, and hopefully, there will be different staff, or maybe they won’t remember me.

  What other choice do I have?

  I wish she would’ve taken me up on the invitation to come inside my room. I can practically see her firm little body stretched out across the white down comforter, her crimson hair floating around her face as it rests on the plump pillows.

  First, I’d caress her silky smooth legs, then trail kisses up her thighs until I reached the hem of that incredibly short little black dress, and then I’d really ravage her body.

  With my cock already stiff from our close encounter in the hallway, picturing her on my bed while doing all of these things to her has me completely wound up. In need of relief, I unzip my trousers and pull my cock through the opening in my slacks. I don’t bother with my belt or unbuttoning the top
of my pants.

  Pumping my cock in my hand, I stare at the bed as I continue to imagine the things I’d do to her if she were in my room. I wanted her to come in so badly tonight that I can still smell her perfume and practically taste her.

  I’d prop her up on the pillows as I mounted her, flicking my tongue against her nipples as my cock brushed over her wetness. I’d push myself inside her and start nice and slow before I gave it to her hard and rough.

  Without realizing it, I look down and notice how fast I’m stroking myself and know I’m about to come. Reaching over, I grab a few tissues from the nightstand and continue to think about what her sweet little pussy would feel like if it were wrapped around my cock.

  My cock begins to pulsate as thick ropes of cum land on the tissue until a large pool of semen collects. When I’m finished, I toss the tissue into the toilet and wash up before going to bed. All of my thoughts are consumed by that fiery little number, and I can’t stop thinking about her.

  Over an hour passes before I finally fall into a fitful sleep. I toss and turn as even naughtier thoughts pop into my head. Grabbing one of the many pillows from behind my head, I make an ill attempt to shape one and hold it in my arms, pretending it’s her but it doesn’t work. It’s too thick and feels like a sponge expanding every time I relax my arms. Damn memory foam.

  Intense streaks of orange rays beam through the curtains of my room, waking me from a restless sleep. Of course, she’s the first thing on my mind. The moment my eyes open, I’m instantly reminded that she’s not by my side.

  My hard cock is evidence that I never stopped thinking about her even while I slept. I do my best to push it down to make it subside as I reach for the phone and order room service.

  “Yes, I’d like to order breakfast, please,” I say to the woman on the other end of the line.

  “What can we get for you, sir?”

  “I’d like some bacon—crisp, please—, two slices of toast, and some coffee.”