by Jenna Kelly
"It's not a bad first performance though, is it?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Finishing in the top five of our first WSOP tourney. And let's face it. Doyle might have busted our asses. But that was a helluva bad beat. I'm sure I'd have won otherwise. You might even have scraped second."
He laughed, thoughts of Natalie floating out of his mind before he knew it. "As I recall, I was ahead of you in chips before that hand."
"Loose change," she smiled. "I had it under control.
He grinned at her. "I won ten thou, Jessica, and you won eight. That loose change was worth two thousand to me. Or maybe we should call it nine grand apiece?"
"Nah," she laughed, leaning closer. "You keep your earnings. Besides, we have another five thousand from Practically Poker."
His brow furrowed. "Five thousand?"
"Yeah, weren't you at the introductory party last night. They announced it towards the end. A bonus for anyone wearing their gear and finishing in the top five of any other WSOP tournament. Good job you put on that shirt, eh!"
He glanced down at Practically Poker logo on the damp shirt. He almost hadn't worn it today. The announcement must have come when he'd been with Reagan. Then she was speaking again.
"Which day are you playing in the Main Event?"
"Day after tomorrow."
"Mm-Kaitlyn. I'm tomorrow, so I need my beauty sleep. Want to meet for breakfast tomorrow? You can wish me luck."
David nodded. Natalie would probably want another lie in after her performance tonight. He was happy to forego his. This woman was worth getting to know.
***
"You're such a spoil sport, sis!" Marissa whined as Natalie pushed her into the backseat of the cab. The smell of vodka filled the small space as they pulled out onto the Las Vegas Strip. It was three thirty in the morning and yet the streets were clogged with honking taxis and rented SUVs filled to the brim with drunken party-goers.
They were still on London time and were definitely feeling the effects of the late night, although the concept of time in general was quickly losing meaning here in the Nevada desert.
Marissa rolled her window down and hooted loudly, screaming, "I love you, Sin City!"
Natalie quickly pulled her sister back in and smiled apologetically at the cabbie, who'd most certainly seen far worse.
"Those guys were all over me, Gracie, and I really need a shag," she complained again, showing her age by pouting out her lower lip. "Besides, I need to do something that you haven't!"
They were leaving the Rain nightclub. Samson had pulled some strings to get them added to the VIP list, which included a complimentary bottle of Bollinger.
They had plenty to celebrate: Natalie with her singing deal and Marissa with her modelling. And of course, every guy in the place had been clamouring to help the two beautiful sisters celebrate. The champagne went quickly. A bottle of Grey Goose quickly took its place.
Things had gone down hill from there.
"How do you know I haven't been with two guys already?" Natalie teased, although even drunk, her sister saw right through the ruse.
"Now you're just being cruel. It's not fair; you've been fucked all day long. It's been like ages since I've been with Nikolai!"
Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea confiding everything, but Natalie'd always told her kid sister everything. Especially when her tongue was loosened by alcohol. Grinning evilly, she added, "Don't forget I also blew him after the performance!"
"Sex for a contract. You're such a slut," the blonde laughed, flopping her head back in the taxi seat and looking out the back window at the desert stars.
"I also get a record deal after three months," Natalie added solemnly, as if it made it OK. Not that her sister was judging.
Marissa's vision blurred as the cab rolled slowly through the traffic. What a fucking shame that Nikolai was back in England. She needed to be fucked. Badly! Natalie's news didn't help. Feeling not one but two hard cocks rubbing against her as she danced had only inflamed her. "What was it like?" she hesitantly asked, tugging on her sister's arm. "A black man! What was it like, Natalie!?"
"Fantastic, Marissa, just incredible. It's true what they say about black men!"
The blonde laughed, covering her mouth in a mix of amusement and shock. "Geez, sis, I need to get my ass into gear. That's a woman and a black man you've had. I've gotta catch up real soon—"
"I'm telling you, Marissa," Natalie enthused. "This guy's so powerful, he can change my life. What the hell am I saying—he is changing my life. Just look at tonight. We wanted to go out, and with the snap of his fingers, all of Vegas was open to us." The brunette paused, letting what she'd said sink in with both of them. Such power, indeed. "When you get to know Kaitlyn a bit better, find out who can help you too, sis. These are people we need to know, believe me!"
Her sister sat in silence for a few moments. Maybe she could engineer a conversation with Kaitlyn, find out who the movers and shakers were. If she could find an American Nikolai, that would be perfect. "Why are we going back to the hotel again?" she asked, only half joking.
"Because I'm falling asleep. And you need your beauty rest for tomorrow's shoot—"
"Tomorrow afternoon," Marissa cut in.
Natalie ignored her. "You're still my baby sister and I'm not going to abandon you to a couple horny, sleaze-balls. No matter what 'new' experiences you want to one-up me with."
Marissa knew it was true, knew that her sister was just looking out for her, but it didn't do a thing for her need.
Changing subjects, she asked, "What about David?"
"I've told you," Natalie spat, her voice turning cold. "Samson's promised me a suite at the Bellagio from tomorrow, for us to share. Just until he helps me find somewhere more permanent. I've left a message on David's phone, telling him we'll be late and I'm gonna stay in your room tonight."
Well, so much for a late night masturbation session, Marissa thought wistfully. "He hasn't rang back?"
"Turned off my phone," the brunette answered. Her decision meant she'd need a difficult conversation with David. He wouldn't be happy when she told him they were finished, but it had to be done. Just not now; just not tonight.
"You're sure?" Marissa asked her, reaching out to take her sister's hand.
Natalie nodded, squeezing the hand that was holding hers. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, sis.
*****
"I don't understand!" David spat out the words.
"Don't get upset," Natalie said in a matter of fact way that was difficult for him to believe.
He ran a hand through his crinkly hair. "Natalie, I'm not angry, I'm confused!" Why now? Why did she want to end their relationship right now? It didn't make sense. Except… it did. She'd just spent the last half-hour explaining to him while she packed. It wasn't working between them. She had an opportunity for success. And she didn't need him any longer.
"You're not confused, David," she told him, climbing out of the chair beside the dressing table, "because I've just explained." Turning back to the nearly full suitcase on the bed, she resumed the final bits of her packing.
"You had a successful night, so you're—"
The brunette slammed the suitcase lid closed and picked up her cosmetic bag. "That's not quite what I said, David," she sighed, "cleaning out the top drawer from the cabinet. "We both know we've been drifting apart, for too long now. It just hasn't been working for us, we've just agreed that."
"I know that, Natalie, but I'd hoped—"
Her head shot up. "You've just told me what you hoped David. We've been talking about this for the last hour. With my new contract at Samson Smith's, this'll give me the chance to make my own way. I want to stand on my own two feet, see how far I can make it. It's as simple as that, David. Okay?" She spat out the last word, as if putting a full stop under the discussion.
"So, your new contract includes a suite at the Bellagio?"
"Just for the time being, David. For Marissa and I. Then
I'll find somewhere local to stay. I'm here for a three months, so I'll need to rent a more permanent place for that time. This just gives me some breathing space."
He nodded, at a loss to know what to say. Deep down, he realised the sense of everything Natalie had said. Maybe it was just the suddenness that spooked him? He slowly eased up from the corner of the bed, walking across to the window and staring out onto the Strip.
"That's it," Natalie told him, finishing her work.
He swung back around to a face that was full of excitement, even if it was tinged with a hint of sadness around her eyes.
"I want us to leave on good terms if we can, David," she said, closing the distance between them and pulling him into a bear hug. "I only want the best for you."
Her words, scent and demeanour all felt wrong. David couldn't quite place it, but there was a piece of the jigsaw still missing. He shrugged it away. After all, did it really matter now? "And the same with you, Natalie," he sighed. "I know how you've worked for this opportunity. You deserve it. And I know you'll be successful. You've always had the talent."
"Thanks, David, I'm pleased you did so well yesterday, too," she brightly smiled, turning back to her bags. "Good luck with your Main Event."
He nodded. He hadn't seen his girlfriend this happy for some time. "Natalie," he began, but she was already turning to answer the sharp rap on the door.
"Hello," she smiled at the bellboy. "It's the large suitcase to go downstairs, please. "Look," she said turning back to David, "Marissa's waiting in reception for me. I really have to go."
He took a long breath as the feeling of emptiness ran through him. "Here's your other bag," he said, handing her the cosmetic case and accepting the kiss on his cheek. On his cheek, for God's sake! "Stay in touch, Natalie, and take care. You know where I am if you need anything."
She smiled at him one final time, and then she was gone.
***
How long was it since she'd heard from that bastard of a boyfriend? Thirty-six hours? Whatever poker game he'd got himself into, he was either being very successful or desperately attempting to repair the damage. So what was new? Sometimes she wouldn't hear from him for a couple of days and then he'd turn up, with their bank balance another thousand or so less than it was.
Except he'd promised her those days were behind him. Her hysterical sounding laugh frightened her. Next, she'd be talking to herself.
Turning back to the mirror, she finished drying her hair. It'd have to do, and anyway, a brush through it before she left home would make it respectable. Home? That was a laugh. The run down apartment was desperately in need of attention, but that wasn't going to happen for some time now.
The thousand or so that she'd managed to save over the last twelve months had gone to help with Charles's gambling debts. Every cent she earned from her job went the same way. Her job? Could you call prostitution a job? Flopping back down on the bed, she couldn't hold back the tears.
Get hold of yourself, girl, she told herself even as she buried her face in her hands. A few deep breaths managed to stifle the sobs.
Moving to the box of tissues on the dresser, she wiped away the tears. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she gave a wry smile. In the white bra and boy shorts, she still looked sexy—at least she had that in her favour.
She'd resisted Charles's suggestion to move in with her and now she knew why. If he'd been gambling again, it would be all over between them. If? A rueful laugh pierced the air again. She'd allowed him to persuade her to fuck the club's clientele on the basis he gave up every form of gambling.
Just for a short time, he'd said! While he found a regular job and paid off his debts. And she'd fallen for it—how stupid!
He'd sworn he'd never gamble again and she'd fallen for it. Become a whore. What sort of man would want his girl to fuck other men? For money? It wasn't right and if she was honest with herself, something had died between them when he'd pleaded with her to help him that way.
She'd have it out with him when he returned.
For now, she had to get dressed. The phone message had said that Big Jack wanted to see her that morning. What the hell was that all about? She'd seen her fellow workers called before the gangster before and it hadn't been a pretty sight. The man had a quick temper and the girls who'd left his office in tears were never seen again.
But that was when they'd been up to something. She hadn't. Maybe he wanted her to work different hours? Or longer hours? Goodness knows, she needed the money. Reaching for her red tee shirt, she checked the time. Damn, her watch had stopped again. God knows when she'd be able to afford a new one.
The plain round clock on the wall told her she hadn't long to get ready. It wasn't a good idea to make Jack wait—where were those jeans?
***
"Why the long face?"
David glanced up from his corner table in the breakfast area. Jessica was smiling down at him and couldn't have looked more beautiful. The way she wore the black baseball cap at a slightly jaunty angle, pulled down over her long, blonde locks, somehow added to her appearance. Her dark sunglasses were precariously perched on top, but it was the two sensuous pink lips underneath the rim that added the additional degree of sexiness. The way her tongue flicked across them sent a clear message to his groin.
"Hey, how're you doing?" he responded, half standing as she slipped into the seat next to him.
"Better than you it seems," the wavy haired blonde sympathetically smiled. "From the look on your face, how you're doing is more to the point."
Before he could answer, the waitress wandered across to their table. "Cappuccino," she ordered. David shook his head when the grey haired woman looked at him. He was coffee'd out.
The questioning look on her face demanded an answer, but the right words wouldn't come out.
Jessica laughed. "Oh, so that's it. Well, what did I tell you last night?"
The crinkly haired youngster stared into her sparkling brown eyes. "What did you tell me last night?"
"That your relationship with your girlfriend was on its last legs—"
His face dropped. "How did you know?" he husked, glancing around as a couple of waitresses walked past, then staring back at her again.
Jessica removed her cap and shook out her blonde hair. Even the way it bounced around her shoulders was sexy. When she smoothed down her black tee shirt David's attempts to keep his eyes trained on her face failed. Did she never wear a bra?
"It's not difficult David," she teasingly answered. "We women know these things." She paused while the server delivered her drink. "It's none of my business," she eventually added, her brown eyes smiling at him over the rim, "but I think it's for the best."
He shifted uneasily in the tiny booth. "What makes you say that?"
"The way you spoke last night," she answered, lowering the mug back to the table. "Not your words, but the way you said them. It'll hurt a while, honey, but it'll work out."
David smiled what he hoped was a self-assured smile. "Well, Jessica, if your poker reads are as accurate, I'm staying out of your way. I know it's for the best, I guess we just grew apart. What you see is just a little bit of melancholy."
"Hmmm… if its melancholy," the beautiful blonde smiled, taking another sip from the hot mug. "Why are you staring at my tits?"
David laughed as he deliberately allowed his eyes to flicker to her swells again. Her cleavage was almost intoxicating. "Well, you've got to admit," he joked, "They're difficult to keep your eyes from."
Her soft fingers ran down the front of her black tee shirt, grazing against the soft swell of her breasts. His gaze followed her movement and she waited until his eyes returned to hers before speaking. "David, you're such a nice guy. You letch in a civilised way."
"Letch—?" Her throaty laugh made him colour.
"Honey, the good news is that you're not playing in the Main Event until tomorrow. The bad news is that I'm playing today. You need something to bring you out of your melancholy state,
and I need some stimulation before I play—"
It took a good thirty seconds for her meaning to click. When it did, she was halfway out of the booth. Slipping her baseball cap back on, she crooked a finger. "Come on, then—"
***
"Can you believe this?" Natalie asked her sister as the two of them stared across the marble foyer and around the impressive room. Even though the Salone suite was the smallest in the hotel, it was comfortably bigger than anything either of them had previously experienced.
"Look at this," Marissa told her as she rushed from room to room and then pulled her elder sister to the bathroom. The Italian marble bath with its soaking tub, glass-enclosed shower and personal his and hers sinks was mind boggling to the younger girl. "I'll be 'his,' she laughed, her eyes as wide as saucers as she took in every piece of decadent luxury.
