Authors: K. Langston
My thoughts scattered like marbles when his strong fingers dug deep into the skin of my thighs. “You know how I want it. Move those fuckin’ hips.”
I began to move, grinding and bouncing up and down, taking him in deeper and deeper with every bounce. Vibrating with electricity and tingling with the never ending currents of desire, passion and love.
The bombardment of it all shattered me, sent me flying in a million different directions. I came hard and fast, chanting his name over and over and over.
“Fuck,” Fascinated and high on the lusty fumes, I watched his face scrunch tight as deep groans escaped his parted lips. With one arm banded around my waist, he brought my forehead to his shoulder with his other hand, coming deep inside of me. My lungs screamed for air.
“We will be arriving at your destination in approximately ten minutes, Mr. Brooks.” Parker’s voice breached our heavy breathing.
Seizing the sides of my face, Archer pulled my lips to his. “Do you know how hot you look when you’ve been thoroughly fucked?”
“’Bout as good as you do,” I murmured against his lips and he smiled. It was a glorious smile, one I would remember for as I long as I live, one that belonged to only me.
I’d read about places like this, seen them on TV, but I’d never stayed anywhere this extravagant. Hell, I’d never stayed anywhere nicer than the Holiday Inn when I traveled. But right now, I was standing in the middle of Penthouse A, on the top floor of one of the most luxurious hotels in Vegas, overlooking the entire fucking city.
Ribbons of excitement and anticipation twirled in my belly and I turned in place to thank him. Bright green eyes held mine as I walked towards him, ignoring everything else between us. All this expensive shiny shit, none of it mattered. I was excited just to be here with him. I’ll admit the accommodations were nice, but we could sleep out on the streets for all I cared, as long as I was in his arms. I wanted to reassure him that I wasn’t her. I would never be her. “This is too much.”
“Just a drop in the bucket, sweetheart,” Archer wrapped his
arms around my waist, pulling me in close. His lips hovered just above mine. “I have a surprise for you,” His phone rang from his pocket, breaking his intent gaze. “Thanks for callin’ me back man. No, I appreciate cha hookin’ me up last minute. We’ll be down in half an hour.”
“Who was that?”
“A friend. An extremely gay friend. No way in hell I would turn you over to a straight man that looked like that. He manages the spa here in the hotel. I’ve arranged everything, including a shopping trip. Jonathan will be kind of like an escort.” he informed me, scrolling through his phone.
“You don’t have to do this.”
His eyes shot to mine. “Do what?”
“This,” I motioned around the room. He was here for business, to close the door on his past. “I don’t need any of this fancy stuff. I just need you.”
“I know you don’t need it, but I wanna give it to you. Besides, we’re going out to dinner tonight. I thought you would want to do girly shit while I tie up some other loose ends.”
I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Ya know, sometimes you can be so damn sweet.”
“Awe hell, don’t start that shit again.” Archer teased, pulling me closer. “I love the way you look. You could go dressed just like that or wearing a fuckin’ trash bag, and I wouldn’t give two shits,” Closing his eyes, he leaned down and kissed me, slow and steady, savoring every lick.
“I kinda do like the idea of playin’ dress up. Plus, I consider myself to be the best bargain shopper ever, so I won’t break the bank,”
Throwing his head back, he laughed
“Yes, I know this. That’s why Jonathan has strict instructions, so please, do me a favor for once and do as I ask.”
For the millionth time since I’d met him…I gave him what he wanted. “Yes sir.”
Forty five minutes later, I was standing in front of the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. Could a man be
too
pretty? Rough and edgy was more my bag. Razor sharp and tough as nails if we’re talking about Archer Brooks. But I could definitely see how men and women alike would fall at the feet of this creature. He was blessed with a male beauty that was surely a gift from God.
Now here I was, stuck with Jonathan. Who was about to do God knows what to me. I followed him down a long hallway that opened up into a huge salon. Several stylists stopped working to quickly take in my appearance.
Yes, I know I don’t belong here.
Was it that obvious? With my second hand hippie skirt and layered tanks that did nothing to cover my colorful arms, I stuck out like one of those neon signs on the strip.
“Hair first, then we’ll address the rest. Here, I’ll take that.” Jonathan reached for my bag, but I hugged it away. “Jesus, would you relax. You’re making me nervous as hell, and I don’t want to have to tell Mr. Uptight that you didn’t enjoy yourself today.” He crossed his arm and popped his hip. My hand covered my mouth, quieting my unladylike chuckle. He was funny. “Now, let’s get down to business. Ari will be your stylist today. Ari, this is Ms. Vaughn,”
“Katy,” I corrected.
“What shall we do with all this beautiful hair?” The sweet voice behind me asked as she ran her fingers through my thick locks. “Damn girl, what kind of products do you use?” I watched in the opposite mirror as she lifted a chunk of my hair, sniffing it. “It feels like fine silk and smells like honey. You’re an organic chick aren’t you?” Looking right at Jonathan with a stern look, she placed her tiny hands on her slim hips. Ari was pretty in a nerdy kind of way. She was short and her blonde pixie hair was cut perfectly to sculpt her heart shaped face. She was sporting smart purple glasses and her retro outfit was perfectly put together. A mix of sweet girl next door meets bad girl down the street. I loved her style. Maybe I do belong here. “Adele?” she asked, obviously seeking approval from Jonathan, who was standing in front of me with his arms still crossed, his handsome face pulled tight in concentration.
“Oh, hell yes. I like where your head is girl,” He smiled approvingly. “Let’s do it. You’re in good hands sweetie, be back soon.” He patted my knee, then walked away.
“I’ll just give you a quick trim and then we’ll move on to the fun stuff.”
“Adele?” I asked Ari in the mirror.
“Yeah, you’ve got this look about you, a timeless, classic look. Your hair is gorgeous. Women would kill for these tresses. I’m going to tease them to high heaven, and then coif it into a spectacular Adele style ‘do’. Sound good?”
“I love Adele.”
“I have an eye for these things. The ink will only add more edge to the look, and if you can’t tell, I like a bit of edge.” Ari popped the smock in front me then draped it over the front of my body, securing it around my neck. “Now, let’s rock this shit.”
Ari did her thing, piping up every now and then to ask me questions. Like where I was from. What I was doing in Vegas. But mostly she worked. And when all was said and done, she’d done just what she said she would. As promised, my hair was teased and tamed within an inch of its life. I looked older, sophisticated.
Classy
.
“My God, Ari, if I weren’t gay,” Jonathan shook his head, clearly pleased with the outcome.
“Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that. But the fact still remains so stop teasing me.” Ari slapped him on his chest and he smiled back at her adoringly. “This may be your best work yet.”
“Seriously? It wasn’t that hard. Just look at what I had to work with. She’s stunning. Even without make-up. Makes me sick,” Ari huffed, winking at me in the mirror. I really liked these two.
I stood up from the chair. “What next?” I asked, dusting stray hairs from my skirt.
“I knew there was a princess in there. I could see it when you walked through the door.”
“So are you my fairy godmother?”
“Oh, I’m way more than that honey.” I said my goodbyes to Ari and thanked her for taking such good care of me.
Then I was whisked away by Jonathan and his magic wand in the form of a Platinum Visa.
We must let go of the life we have planned
to accept the one that is waiting for us.
~Joseph Campbell
The Red Door was the most elite night club in Vegas. Its exclusive guest list was impressive and extremely confidential. Only the filthy and ridiculously rich dared to walk through those doors, and that had been my vision all along.
Sex sells.
Don’t believe me, just ask my bottom line. The table minimum alone carried a hefty price tag of 50 G’s. Tight security allowed for no cell phone or recording devices of any kind, so patrons were able to indulge in whatever their depraved hearts desired. There were rules, of course. The dancers were the entertainment, but this was not a dirty strip joint. These women were classy and professional. They were not to be touched, and they never approached any of the customers. That sort of fraternizing was strictly prohibited. Unless you paid for one of the 13 VIP rooms we offered on the upper levels- and then, who’s to say what happens behind those doors. With a price tag of $100 G’s a pop…I didn’t give one fuck.