Cruising the Strip (23 page)

“Is that unusual?”

“Very.” She smiled a little ruefully. “The appointment isn’t cheap. But, sometimes a wife shows up unexpectedly. That kind of thing.”

“So you’re free for the night then?”

“That’s just it. I’m really not. And the casino has a thing…” She grimaced. “I can’t be seen in there unescorted.”

I worked that around in my head for a few seconds. “You don’t want anyone to think you’re freelancing.”

“I’d lose my job.”

“But if you’re there on a job, someone in hotel security knows?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t even have stayed to finish that drink when he didn’t show up, but…” She pressed her palm to my chest. I’d blown off the afternoon session to play poker and had on jeans and a cotton shirt with a T-shirt underneath. I was way underdressed compared to her. “I happened to see you at the bar and I guess I got distracted.”

“So you can’t go back inside with me unless someone tells security you’re there on a job.”

“Right. And I need to report back in and let them know my client was a no-show.”

“Will they arrange another client for you tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll hire you.”

She laughed, and then when she realized I was serious, she leaned into me and kissed me. She tasted a little like cinnamon and she smelled of something dark and lush and decadent. When her tongue skimmed my lips and inside my mouth for just a second, I was instantly and completely aroused.

“Why would you do that?” she asked.

“Because I want to spend the night with you.”

“Enough to pay for it?”

“Why not?”

“You’re serious.” She rolled her hips, soft and slow, against my crotch. “I appreciate the offer, but that’s not why I kissed you.”

“I didn’t think it was.” I held her tight to me with one arm around her waist. “We need to go somewhere more private. Tell me who I should call or what I should do so you can come to my room.”

When she just stared, I added, “Please.”

“Just a second.”

Without taking her eyes off mine, she fumbled in her big shoulder bag and pulled out a cell phone. She turned in my arms so her ass was against my crotch, punched in a number, and spoke quietly for a minute. While she talked, I tried hard not to rub against her, but my clit was a mile long and every inch was throbbing.

“They’ll arrange it,” she said, closing her phone. She leaned her head back against my shoulder and looked up at me. “We can do the business details later. Okay?”

I kissed her neck. “Let’s go.”

I held her hand until we were almost to the hotel lobby, and then I released it, conscious of the cameras everywhere. I doubted that anyone in Las Vegas with a secret ever really kept it secret, but I wasn’t going to be anyone’s show. And I didn’t want her to be either.

“I’ve been calling you Beautiful in my mind,” I said as we stepped into the elevator, “which is true, but I think a first name would be nice, too.”

“Have you done this before?” Her question came out sounding seductive, not accusatory.

“No, why?”

“You’re awfully smooth.”

I put my arms around her and kissed her. To hell with the cameras. “You’re beautiful and I am seriously turned on. Believe me, I’m not working a line.”

“It’s…” she hesitated for a heartbeat, then said, “Meg.”

And I knew she was telling me her real name. I kissed her again. “Meg. Like I said, beautiful.”

The doors opened and I led her down the hall to my suite. Once inside, I didn’t quite know what to do. I’d brought women who I’d just met back to my apartment or my hotel room on occasion, but never under quite these circumstances. The one thing I didn’t want it to seem was businesslike. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans and rested back on my heels. Meg walked to the side of the bed and put her shoulder bag down near the side table.

“There’s a couple of things you should know,” Meg said as she sat on the side of the bed and removed her shoes.

I walked over and stood in front of her, unbuttoning my shirt, since it seemed like that was something I was going to have to do sooner or later. I pulled it off and untucked my T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing anything under that, or under my jeans, come to think of it. I waited to take my cue from her.

“You didn’t ask me anything about my work,” she said.

“What do you want to tell me?”

“I don’t have intercourse with men.”

I don’t know why, but the frank talk about sex was making me even more horny. I popped the top button of my jeans and unzipped my fly.

“But you said—”

“My client was a man, yes, but my clients ask for me for a certain reason.” When I didn’t say anything, she explained. “They don’t fuck me. I fuck them.”

I caught my breath and couldn’t help but look at her shoulder bag next to the bed.

“Usually when they’re restrained,” she added as she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. The thin spaghetti straps fell from her shoulders and her breasts were bare. She wasn’t a large woman, but her breasts were slightly oversized for her slim torso. They were a little too heavy to stand completely upright, but they were lush and full and I wanted to hold them. If she hadn’t said what she’d just said, I would have reached for them instantly. Instead, I held back.

“Is that the way you like it?” I sounded hoarse and had to clear my throat before I finished, “Being in control?”

“Most of the time I don’t like it or dislike it.” She stood and let the dress fall to the floor. She was nude, her slim, pale body curved in all the right places. “It’s a job.”

She grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and yanked it up so I had no choice but to lift my arms and let her drag it over them and off. Then she gripped the waistband of my jeans and pushed them down my thighs. I stepped out of them along with my shoes and socks.

“I’d like to fuck someone for the pleasure of it.” She caressed my sides, brushed her fingers over my breasts, and touched my face. “You. I’d like to fuck you.”

“I…uh…” What could I say? That’s not my thing? It’s not my style. It’s not the position I’m used to. All true, but in that moment, the idea of her, of Meg, taking pleasure in doing to me whatever it was she wanted to do sent a jolt through me so intense I almost doubled over. “Do you have what you need in that bag?”

She smiled. “I do.”

“What should I do?”

“Lie down and let me make you feel good.”

The picture I had of us together was nothing like the reality when, a few minutes later, I was on my back with my arms stretched above my head and my wrists locked together with soft leather restraints that Meg had somehow secured to the frame. She’d obviously done this before, because it only took her a few seconds. Now she was kneeling on the bed between my legs, running her fingers up and down the insides of my thighs. I’d turned the room lights down when we’d walked in, but I could see her clearly in the dim light. Her mouth was curved into an amused smile.

I didn’t doubt for a second she could tell exactly how turned on I was, because I could feel the wetness on the inside of my legs and I knew my clit was already full. She let me know I was right when she casually brushed her fingertips over it and my whole body went stiff as a board. She kept her fingers there and dragged her bag up beside her. When she pulled out a harness with a long fat cock attached, she gave my clit a quick shake. I tried not to let my eyes roll back in my head.

“Do you know what’s going to happen next?” she whispered, her thumb and forefinger slowly stroking my erection.

“Pretty good idea,” I gasped. What I was really hoping
wouldn’t
happen was me coming all over her in the next ten seconds. “Can you ease up a little bit?”

She did, and I craned my head to watch her strap on. The idea of a cock on her lusciously female form had my head spinning and the rest of me twitching. “I’m going to come the minute you’re inside me,” I warned.

“Don’t be so sure.”

Then for the hundredth time it seemed, she surprised me. She worked one loop of the harness over
my
left leg, then my right. “Raise your hips.”

My legs barely had enough strength left to do it, but I dug my heels in, braced my shoulders, and lifted my hips so she could slide the harness all the way up. The cock was double headed, and she opened me with one hand and glided the short c-curved end inside me before cinching down the straps.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped. “That’s gonna make me come.”

“You can come if you need to,” she said as she straddled my hips. She cupped herself, then lubed the cock with her own clear, thick essence. Gripping the shaft, she rubbed the head between her lips and watched me watching her. “I don’t care when you come or how many times you come. I’m going to fuck you until I can’t move.”

Then she slid down on it to the base, her eyes closing as she took it deep. The pressure of her weight on me with the cock inside both of us drove the smooth head against the spot inside me that always triggered my orgasm. This time I fought it, because I wanted to feel her fuck us both.

She opened her eyes and leaned forward, bracing herself with her hands on my shoulders. Rotating her hips in slow circles, she stared into my eyes. “When I fuck them, I don’t care if I come and I usually don’t.” Her voice caught and her throat trembled. I tried to raise my head to kiss her, but I couldn’t reach her.

“Tonight I’m going to come,” she whispered.

I couldn’t touch her with my hands or my mouth, but we were connected. I lifted my hips and pushed into her as she rotated, and when I pulled out she gave a little cry. She circled, I thrust, and her fingers dug into my shoulders. Every time I pumped, my clit struck the flared base and the fat curve inside me massaged the spot that made my clit even harder.

“You want to come,” she murmured, her eyes glazed. “Don’t you?”

“You know I do.”

“Bad?”

“Real bad.” I whined a little but I couldn’t help it. I needed just a stroke or two on that one special spot. I needed it…god, I needed it.

I must have said it out loud, because she laughed and moved her hands from my shoulders to my breasts and squeezed.

“Go ahead and come. I’m going to.” Her fingers quivered on my nipples and her words were barely a whisper. “Soon. All over you.”

She was fucking me and I was fucking her and I couldn’t keep from exploding. I felt my clit go off and my stomach lurched and my hips jerked and I yelled. Then I was pounding into her while I came out of my skin and she reared up and screamed at the ceiling, and I knew she wasn’t holding anything back.

I went limp after the crazy contortions stopped, and she fell forward over me. After a second, I realized she’d released my wrists and I wrapped my arms around her. The cock was still inside both of us, and it moved back and forth inside me as she moaned and rubbed her breasts and her belly over mine. The pressure kept my clit hard, but she was the one out there on the edge.

“Feels so good,” she moaned.

I cupped her ass and started to thrust inside her again. I tossed her line back at her. “You want to come. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered against my neck. “Oh, yes. And I’m going to. Now. Now.”

She shivered in my arms while her hips danced on the length joining us and the sound of her coming against my throat sent me off like a rocket. When I stopped coming, I was pretty sure I’d never walk again because every muscle in my body had turned to jelly.

“I love the way you fuck me,” I groaned.

She laughed and burrowed her face against my shoulder. “Ditto.”

“Can you stay until tomorrow?”

Wordlessly, she nodded.

“Is there someone you have to call or something I have to—”

“No.” She kissed me. “The only thing you have to do is get ready to come again. Because all the rest is on the house.”

“This wasn’t what I signed up for,” Ari Bianchi muttered under her breath as she watched a naked woman fold back the coverlet and sheets on a king-sized bed, arranging them in a precise diagonal from top to bottom like a half-opened envelope. When she stretched out on top of the crisp, unwrinkled sheets, the space beside her remained closed, effectively signaling she didn’t welcome company. Ari recognized the pattern, because she’d observed exactly the same thing the last three nights. Although the image on the monitor was black and white, it was crystal clear. One thing a casino could be counted on for was top-of-the-line surveillance equipment.

When she’d joined the security service at the Palace after opting for some kind of active duty—hell,
any
kind of activity—over remaining a deskbound cop, she hadn’t planned on spending her time spying on guests. She didn’t mind watching the tables for players who beat the house just a little too often or escorting drunks and belligerent patrons back out to the strip, but shadowing a woman through the casino and into her bedroom made her feel sleazy. And that’s what she’d been doing every night from midnight until eight a.m. for the last three nights. After the first two uneventful shifts, she’d considered telling her boss she wanted off the detail. Then she thought about Mulrooney and Williams, the other two officers assigned to this target. They were okay-enough guys. Her being a cop pretty much canceled out her being a woman in their eyes, and they treated her like a colleague. Meaning they felt free to tell off-color jokes and make sexual observations about women in front of her. Of course, that might be because she was a lesbian and they knew it and somehow thought including her in their sexual byplay was a form of bonding. It was hard to figure out what went on in a guy’s head, but she knew exactly what Mulrooney and Williams would be thinking if they were sitting where she was, watching Melinda Baker arch her back and trail her fingertips delicately down the center of her abdomen.