by Nicole Casey
“No-one ever wins here.”
“Then why do you play every year?”
The man thought about it for a full minute, as though the idea of not coming here to lose money had simply never crossed his mind.
After an hour of losing money and drinking poor quality but hugely expensive cognac, I staggered out. I had probably just wasted all of the money I had earned by coming to Las Vegas but I didn’t care.
It was still bright and sunny, so I was half blinded as the sunlight hit me.
A street vendor selling tickets for a new musical caught me off guard and I bought one without thinking about it.
The show was dull and hard to follow, although the cognac in my bloodstream might have been at least partly to blame for that.
From my seat near the back of the theater, the most attractive dancer reminded me of Janie. I stumbled down to the front and paid a guy a couple of hundred bucks more than he had paid for his tickets in order to swap seats.
The show was based on 1960s rock and roll. The Janie lookalike was a sweet and innocent minor character. I forgot about the rest of the cast and concentrated on her long legs and warm smile.
It was dark by the time I stepped outside. The casinos were lit up brightly and the sidewalk was crowded. By now, I just wanted to be alone with some peace and quiet.
It had been a long day and I no longer knew why I was even in Las Vegas, wandering up and down the packed strip in a daze.
As I reached the hotel entrance I suddenly felt very tired after a long and emotional day.
“Frank!”
I wanted to ignore the faint voice behind me but something about it made me stop in my tracks.
“Frank!” It was getting louder, as though the person that it belonged to was either running or walking quickly towards me.
I recognized that voice but surely it was the alcohol that had put some sort of illusion into my head. There is no way that it could be the person I thought it was.
I turned around and took a step backwards in disbelief. How had she found me here?
15
Janie
The bus trip to Las Vegas was uneventful and largely forgettable. However, the chance to spend several hours looking out of the window in silence allowed me to put my thoughts in order.
It was amazing how my thoughts cleared and my doubts disappeared as the bus trundled over the endless highway, with the horizon always just tantalizingly out of reach. I took a mental note to always go on a long bus trip alone when I needed some thinking time to myself.
By the time we had reached Las Vegas I was ready to swing into action. My mind was made up and I felt like a woman on a mission who had clear goals at last.
I went straight to the hotel address that I had been given by Frank’s kindly workers. Unsurprisingly, it was the biggest and most expensive looking hotel on the strip.
I felt too intimidated to go in and ask for Frank, so I hung around a fast food joint across the street and waited for him to appear. The hours passed slowly and I had to switch to a coffee shop to avoid getting too many strange glances from the people working there.
The sun went down and I was starting to get tired. Was he already in his room up or was he going to be out all day working? I couldn’t imagine Frank going out to play the slots machine or go on a massive drinking spree, so surely he had to arrive at his hotel at some point.
I had run out of places to sit down and watch the hotel from, so I started strolling up and down the strip while looking at the hotel entrance every few seconds.
Just as I was giving up hope completely, I thought I saw him. Dressed as immaculately as ever, he looked handsome, with a couple of days’ worth of stubble matching his gray hair perfectly.
He seemed to be wobbling slightly from side to another, though. Was he drunk?
Actually, that made me feel a bit better for some reason. Perhaps it would be easier to talk with him if he had been drinking.
“Frank!” I had to call out several times before he finally turned around. We were standing outside the entrance to his luxurious hotel. He took my arm rather roughly and pulled me into the hotel without a word.
I was a bit worried about his strange behavior as we entered the elevator and he punched the number 27. He was clearly staying in the penthouse suite on the top floor.
He turned to look out the huge glass window at the lights on the buildings in front of him. It gave a panoramic view of Las Vegas but because it was dark outside now it had turned into a giant mirror.
I stood behind him where he could see my reflection clearly and slipped off my dress. I don’t even why I did it, as it wasn’t the plan I had been working on at all. I guess I had decided to avoid all the complications that come with words. It was time to let our instincts take over and guide us now.
He smiled at my reflection but then shot a panicked glance at the numbers board on the elevator. We were on the 4th floor already but none of the other floor numbers were lit up. Of course, I had checked to make sure that no-one else had called it before slipping off the dress. There was still the risk that someone would call the elevator now, though.
The number 5 lit up on the board just as I pulled open his suit jacket and then his expensive Italian tailored shirt. He kissed me all over with big, greedy kisses that spoke a thousand words.
By the 10th floor we were both completely naked. It was exhilarating to be with him in this setting without a care in the world. The city was sprawled out below us and life went on as normal for everyone in it. Not for us, though. Not that night.
The 15th floor came and went, as did the 20th. By the 23rd floor he was putting his clothes back on but I wasn’t.
We finally reached the top of the hotel. He stepped out of the open doors as immaculately dressed as ever except for the shirt that was hanging out of his pants. Oh, and the suspicious bulge in his pants maybe took away a bit of his usual stylishness.
When he glanced around I was still completely naked in the elevator.
“Open the door of your room, please.”
Rushing to the presidential suite he quickly opened the door. As he turned around, I deliberately brushed my enticing, naked body past him slowly and sensually. On an impulse that I couldn’t resist I deftly lowered the zip on his pants before he closed the door.
I lingered in the entrance to the room, as though hoping that someone would see us before the door closed. Our relationship was back on track again but I wanted to make this a night he would never forget.
By now I had slipped my hand inside his boxers and was threatening to take them off altogether by sliding my hand delicately along the inside of the waistband, using every part of my hand to get him even more aroused. Frank helped me inside the room and closed the door behind us with a visible sense of relief that we hadn’t been seen by anyone.
That was the first time in my life that I had been naked in a public corridor and I felt a tremendous thrill running through my body because of it. This was what being fully alive felt like and I hoped that my new lover felt the same way.
“Lie down.”
“Listen Janie, we need to talk about how-”
“Now!”
He realized that obeying seemed to be the easiest option. Frank lay down and then I ripped his ridiculously expensive shirt open, with ivory buttons flying everywhere. He stood up to get his trousers pulled down roughly and his boxers ripped off. He looked down at the heap of crumpled and ruined clothes that cost more than some people make in a year.
“Lie down. Close your eyes.”
He lay down and closed his eyes. A hot, sticky liquid landed on his bare chest. It ran up to his chin and down to his exposed lower body, making his powerful upper thighs all sticky.
I carefully straddled him and lowered myself onto his torso. My tongue started to lick him clean. It was a delicious chocolatey syrup that I had bought before getting on the bus to Las Vegas.
“Open your eyes.”
I was still naked an
d had some the chocolate sauce dripping from my breasts onto his chest. It was all messed up in my hair as well.
“Do you still want to be with me, Frank?”
“More than anything in the world.”
I put a hand under a chocolate-covered breast and thrust it towards him, inviting him to taste it. He covered as much of the breast as he could with his mouth and started greedily licking the soft skin under the dripping chocolate.
He pushed my down onto a soft rug on the floor and began to lick the rest of my body, moving slowly downwards. I gripped the rug tightly as he began to explore the exact place where I had hoped he would go.
His expert tongue drove me wild. I wanted to do the same for him so I teased him, running my hands up his legs and playing with the chocolate that remained caught up in his hair there.
I leaned up when I could feel his arousal getting more powerful. I then bent forward and licked off some more chocolate, being very careful to let my skin rub temptingly against his most sensitive areas on the way down.
He took the initiative next by pulling me off the rug onto the wooden floor and rubbing his body up and down the full length of my body, covering me in more of the deliciously sticky chocolate and licking my body clean afterwards.
The bedroom was getting covered in chocolate but neither of us cared. We rolled across the floor to the window. I could see giant upside down billboards all around me and the ground dizzyingly far below us.
A soft but firm hand toyed with me between my legs, driving me wild by letting go each time just as I was ready to explode. Another hand then took my own right hand and guided it to the places where it really wanted to be.
I didn’t know what time we fell asleep on the floor in each other’s arm but it was already getting light by then. We had spoken very few words that night but they weren’t needed; we each knew what the other wanted and how to make it happen.
16
Frank
When I woke up the next morning we were lying on the bedroom rug. The floor was smeared with chocolate and the cleaning staff was sure to wonder what on Earth we had got up to in here last night.
I looked down at Janie. She was naked and asleep by my side. I didn’t want to wake her up but we needed to talk things through. To be honest, I was desperate to clear everything up and start our new life together on the right foot. Did this gorgeous woman who had tracked me down so far from home feel the same way?
Room service arrived with our breakfast and I opened the door as little as possible. With Janie naked on the floor and dried chocolate smeared all round her it looked like the scene of a horrific crime right now.
It was far too late for breakfast but I had managed to convince the room service staff with the promise of a big tip. I slipped a few notes to the guy and closed the door.
The smell of the fresh coffee and croissants worked their magic and soon Janie was up and about. She went straight for a shower and called for me to join her. She had cheekily covered her most private parts in bubbles and I took great delight in blowing them away into the air.
We ate a long, leisurely breakfast together on the bed after the shower. I was trying to think how to start up the conversation and I was sure that Janie was too.
The right words wouldn’t come to me, so I decided to just open my mouth and see what happened.
“I love you, Janie.” It seemed weird to hear those words come out of my own mouth for the very first time. It felt good to say them, though.
“I love you too, Frank.”
“Can we make a life together? Happily?”
“I don’t see why not.”
We hugged on the bed and knocked the breakfast tray to the floor. Coffee stains now joined the chocolate stains on the rug but little things like that were no longer worth worrying about anymore.
- THE END -
Sneak Peek: Her Beast
A Dark Romance
Prologue
Derek
I’d done a good job, I acknowledged to myself as Senor Ruiz came to retrieve his latest acquisition. But I wasn’t proud. Marcos was proud; it was clear by the way his eyes glowed with approval. He patted me on the back as the other man took hold of the lead and led the product of weeks of mind-bending work out of the room. My work. Countless hours of work.
“This one was important, and I knew you wouldn’t let me down, son,” Marcos congratulated me as he motioned for a servant from across the room. “You never fail to impress me.”
The servant appeared at his side seconds later, holding open a box of Cuban cigars. Marcos selected two from the box and handed me one before striking a match to light mine and then his own. I inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar taste of a victory cigar. The earthy, tobacco flavor slid across my tongue as the pungent smoke perfumed the air.
As I’d grown into the life that had been laid out for me, I’d come to view Marcos in some shady area between friend and father. I remembered waiting for moments like these, anxious for my hard work to amount to something in his eyes. Years later, there was none of that eagerness now, but a quiet hum of satisfaction nonetheless.
As Senor Ruiz made his way down the long hall, I couldn’t help but watch the symbol of my success. Her hips swayed as she crawled gracefully down the hall, her head down and her body naked except for the leather collar around her slim neck. She hesitated for just a moment as she reached the door, and I felt the familiar tightening in my gut. She’d performed flawlessly for the past two weeks, and I hoped she wasn’t reverting to old habits. But with a swift tug on the leash attached to her collar, she crawled out the door, and I lost sight of her.
Yes, I’d done a good job. The girl had been stubborn and prideful the day she’d been brought to me, but not anymore. Now, she would make an ideal slave for her new master. I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t only the embarrassment of her slipping up that had worried me, but rather, after so long working with this one, I’d long since tired of her. I was ready for a new challenge, something that would send more than an innate sizzle of arousal through my veins.
It wouldn’t last long. It never did. One slave was no different from the next, even in the early days before they were conditioned for sale. They fought and they pleaded, but quickly they gave up the fight, allowing me to mold them into precisely what they needed to be.
“You were built to command, my son,” Marcos said, drawing my attention back.
I wasn’t built for this, some part of me wanted to shout. But the truth of the matter was…I was. I’d watched the other men working with the slaves for years, and not even the most experienced of them had acquired complete domination over a spineless, young girl in the time it had taken me to turn the obstinate daughter of Marcos’ biggest rival into an adept slave.
“And in celebration of your success, I have a surprise for you,” he continued, draping his arm around my shoulder and leading me down the hall to his office.
I didn’t like surprises. Surprises meant unexpected, and I liked to know what to expect. Still, I confess I was mildly curious. Marcos’ body seemed to be thrumming with anticipation.
Once inside his office, he placed a file folder down on the desk and motioned for me to take it. Another job? Another slave? This wasn’t my idea of a surprise, but I opened up the folder to see what was inside. And then I saw the photo lying on top of a neat stack of papers. My stomach clenched and my rusted heart thudded heavily in my chest. It was him—the man who had taken everything from me. James Donovan.
“Where is he, Marcos?” I was no longer tired. I was primed, ready. An old rage pulsed through my veins and my fingers shook with impatience. I could feel the cold steel of the Glock in my hand, hear the grind of steel against steel as I cocked it. I could even envision Donovan’s face in that split second before the bullet tore through his body. I’d longed for this moment and I’d waited for so long.
“No, Derek.”
“No? What do you mean no?” Why the hell was he dangling the man in front
of me just to deprive me of the vengeance that was, by right, mine.
“I mean, I am not going to let you rush into this hastily. It will be over too quick, and you’ll be left with nothing but the bitter taste of disappointment. Your revenge cannot be swift.”
I wanted to argue with him. I’d wanted Donovan dead for so long, the idea of postponing the kill even a minute longer felt almost unbearable. But Marcos was right. I wanted him dead, yes, but I also wanted him to suffer. I’d regret acting on impulse, no matter how strong that impulse was.
I took a deep breath, hoping the smoke-tinged air would somehow infuse my body with even a modicum of the calm I’d felt just moments ago. “What did you have in mind, Marcos?”
“James Donovan’s wife is dead, but he has a daughter. And you, Derek, have a very unique set of skills.”
Hmm. Well, it wasn’t the most original plan—since it was the exact same method of revenge Marcos had used on his own rival, but it was effective. Take the thing of most importance to a man and make him watch as you broke it and transformed it into a shell of what it once was.
I’d already known Donovan had a daughter. Even twelve years later, I could vaguely remember the feisty little redhead with eyes that were too big for her face and a chip on her shoulder. If there was any of that girl left in her now, she’d pose an even bigger challenge than the last slave. But there were few things in life better than a good challenge.
“You know where she is?” I asked, though I was already certain he did.
Marcos nodded.
“I want to get a look at her, and then I’ll send Vito and Alejandro to pick her up.”
“I think you’re making a wise decision, my friend,” he said, patting me on the back once again.
A short flight, and an even shorter drive later, I sat in a nondescript Lexus across from a dilapidated looking park. The girl would be turning the corner onto the street any minute—like she did every day at precisely 8:45 in the morning on her way to work—according to Marcos’ carefully gathered intel.
