Chapter 9

Macey

Dinner was interesting, to say the least. I think I almost prefer to be poor, eating leftover pizza and skipping meals, rather than paying for overpriced meat because of the fancy name that the establishment has listed above the door. And fish, I hate it. I can’t stand the smell and that’s what this place smells like, although it isn’t as bad as being on a pier when the trawlers come back in from being out at sea all day. To say I was shocked when Finn ordered the filet too is an understatement. I didn’t mean to ruin his dinner plans with my lack of culinary sophistication.

The conversation with his friends centered on what clubs they were hitting later and business. From what I gathered, Brady, the one who felt it was appropriate to eye fuck me as soon as I sat down, is in real estate, acquiring land and dilapidated buildings for future development.

Seth is a bodybuilder and actually gets paid by sponsors to wear their clothes, drink and eat their product and go to events to show off his physique. Personally, his body type is not for me, but to each their own. Every time a man like him comes into the club, I’d always steer clear of them. The sheer size of their muscles scares me.

Cory is a trust-fund kid who works at his father’s consulting firm. According to Finn, Cory goes to work when he wants to and doesn’t really contribute much to society except for the social side.

And Finn, well, I found out during dinner that not only does he own Allure, but Fick’s as well and he’s recently purchased another hotel. I’m surrounded by money. The one thing that can make my life easier and these assholes piss it away by ordering expensive wine and bottles of liquor for the table. I’ll give Finn kudos on the wine, though, because this by far is the best thing I have ever tasted.

After dinner, Finn tells his friends that he’ll talk to them later, then takes me by the hand to lead me out of the restaurant. I struggle to keep up with his long stride and find myself hanging on to his arm with my free hand as well.

“Where are we going?”

He slows down, maybe realizing that he’s walking faster than I can keep up with. “Home,” Finn says, as if I knew. “Is that okay?”

I nod, not understanding why he’s worried about how I’m feeling. According to him, I’m his for the week, and for me that translates into me not having an opinion about anything, although he’s been very kind.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

We continue to walk out of the hotel, but now his pace is leisurely and I can easily keep up with him. I may be holding his hand, but that doesn’t stop other women from eyeing him or even calling out his name. What surprises me, though, is that he nods at them and keeps walking, never stopping to engage them, even though that’s what they want. Somewhere deep inside of Finn, he’s a decent guy and in another life he’d be someone I’d fall for. In this life, I’m going to give him what he wants, collect my money and go home.

Stepping out of the hotel, the night air is hot and heavy. Finn doesn’t walk in the direction we came from earlier. Instead, he guides us down the Strip and mixes us in with the tourists who are always in a rush to get somewhere.

On every street corner there are people, both men and women, handing out coupons for what they’re calling exotic dancers. When one is thrust into my hand, I can’t help but take a look. My stomach turns as I see the woman on the front. She looks like me, even though I know she’s not. But that isn’t what bothers me. There are children walking the Strip right now and these people, the ones handing out these flyers, don’t care. The woman on the front is naked, crossing her legs perfectly and bending at the right angle to hide her lady bits from the camera while her hands barely cover her breasts.

I look around at all the children out with their parents and think about Morgan. I told Steph that I thought I could live here, but not like this. I can’t keep taking my clothes off to provide for Morgan. Sooner or later she’s going to figure it out. Right now, she thinks I work in a bar. It’s the only way I can explain my late nights.

Finn tugs my hand and we walk across the street. I’m not paying attention, focusing on the flyer in my hand and making sure I don’t trip. The ground is littered with these advertisements, selling sex everywhere people look.

Cool concrete grazes against my stomach and the pressure is enough to make me look at my surroundings. Finn is pressed in behind me, his hand resting on the wide railing, locking me in. There’s a somewhat large body of water in front of me being overshadowed by the Bellagio hotel. I’ve been told I need to check it out because the inside is magnificent, but up until now I didn’t have the proper clothes to walk into a hotel like that. Maybe Finn will take me there.

“Have you ever seen the fountains?” His words are soft, sending a shiver down my spine. I expected him to be harsh and treat me like a prostitute, but so far he’s treated me with respect and dignity, such as asking for my permission to order for me. I’ve never had anyone do that for me, or even care about what I liked on a menu.

“No,” I say as the music swells and the fountains start performing. I stand there, mesmerized by the artistry on display. I find myself swaying to the music, trying to mimic the direction of the water. Finn chuckles and leans in closer. The smell of his cologne excites me and I find myself pressing back into him. He hasn’t changed much since the time I knew him in high school, except his looks are more distinguished. Finn went from cute to handsome, some would even say suave. All I know is that his blue eyes, that cocky smirk and the way he carries himself will get me into trouble if I’m not careful. One week, that is what I tell myself as I feel his hand on my hip. Friday, I’ll board my flight and forget everything about Vegas.

When the fountains end, Finn once again takes my hand and leads us through the crowds. People jostle, yell for friends and fall down, likely from being drunk. A majority of the women are dressed similar to me, but the differences are the shoes and makeup. Being a stripper, we learn to do makeup and hair like the stylists do. We have to have a flawless face and hair that doesn’t fall flat or lose its shape when we’re dancing, and our shoes are death traps that we can function in for eight to twelve hours if need be. We pay the price in the end, but the tips usually make us forget about the pain rather quickly.

“I must’ve looked like shit when you saw me outside your hotel.”

Finn doesn’t say anything, but opens the door of a café. He shows me to a small table in the back and smiles at the waitress when she sets a menu down.

“Have you ever had gelato?”

I shake my head and lean toward him to see what they have to offer.

“It’s like ice cream, but softer, creamier. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“I’ve always liked mint.”

“Mhm, me too. Let’s get a couple different flavors to try.”

Before I can protest, Finn is out of his seat and moving toward the counter. I try to occupy myself by looking around, as people watching can be entertaining. When a few of the men in here glance my way, I freeze, instantly thinking that they’ve seen me. I know it’s silly, not all men go to strip clubs, but when in Vegas…

Finn is back at our table with a tray of different gelatos. He sets them down with a smile. “Dig in,” he says as he hands me a spoon. I hesitate for a moment, waiting for him to go first. His first scoop is the mint and I watch with rapt attention as he puts the spoon in his mouth, turning it upside down at the last minute so the dessert hits his tongue instead of the roof of his mouth. Finn’s eyes close as he slowly pulls the spoon out, his tongue licking his lips to catch anything left behind.

My legs clench together, watching the way he eats the gelato. Who knew that something so simple could be perceived as erotic?

“Your turn.”

I follow suit, taking the same flavor and doing exactly as he did. I moan as the rich and creamy taste hits my tongue. The gelato melts in my mouth and isn’t as cold and hard as ice cream.

“Do you like it?”

“I do,” I say, reaching for another scoop. I try the chocolate, followed by the cookie dough and get the same reaction. Finn laughs and reaches for another flavor. After a few bites he starts mixing flavors on his spoon. Each taste is a new experience and I can’t seem to get enough.

When the cups are empty, I sit back and rest my hand on my stomach. “I think I ate too much.”

“I have a remedy for that.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” I hedge.

“Sex,” he says, winking. My joyful mood is halted when I think about having sex with Finn. It’s not that I don’t find him attractive, because I do. Finn is sexy and being with him right now has put a definite ache between my legs. It’s the fact that I’m about to give myself to him for money. That is something I can’t get over. Fucking for money is one thing I told myself I would never do.

Except I’m desperate and I need the money. He knows this and is using it to his advantage. Never mind the wardrobe of clothing he bought me—in my line of work that won’t do any good, unless I start thinking about my future, Morgan’s future, and use the money to better myself.

“Just like that? We go back to your place and fuck?” I don’t care if the people around us can hear me. Besides, it’s Vegas. It’s what single people do, although I’m not sure if Finn thinks I’m single. I didn’t exactly correct him when he asked if Morgan would be jealous.

When he opens his mouth I expect something smartass to come out, but it doesn’t. Instead, he stands and grabs my hand, leading us out of the café. On the street, the crowds have grown and it’s harder to walk through the people, but Finn never lets go. The cool air of the casino is a welcome reprieve from the mugginess outside and by the time we’re in the elevator my heart is pounding. When the P for penthouse lights up, my nerves start to get the best of me.

“We don’t have to do this. You can leave,” he says, holding the elevator door open for me.

He’s giving me the option to leave, but doing so means I go home with nothing. It means that I’m back to square one living in the slums with my alcoholic mother, and my daughter continues to go hungry while I scrape for money to support her.

With a deep calming breath my nimble fingers touch the buttons on his shirt, undoing each one slowly. His strong hands pull my body flush with his, sliding under my ass. He picks me up effortlessly and carries me to the door, fumbling with the key card.

I lean down to kiss him and he freezes.

“I don’t kiss,” he says.

“You’ve already kissed me,” I retort, dropping my legs so he has to let me down.

“On the lips, Macey. You can bet I’m going to kiss you everywhere else,” he says, cupping me between my legs. “But lips are off-limits.”

The fucker probably thinks I have herpes or something. “Fine by me.”

“Get undressed,” he barks, brushing past me. The sweet man that was outside is not the man in this room. I flip him off and follow him to his bedroom. The night sky is lit by the lights of Vegas, casting an electric glow throughout his room.

“Are you closing the blinds?”

“No.” He stalks toward me and I stand tall. His hands come around my shoulders and he reaches for the zipper of my dress. The slow and methodical pull heightens my already sensitive senses. Finn pulls my dress down, letting it pool on the floor.

My chest heaves as he stands there, watching…waiting. I take a cautious step forward and finish unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it from his pants. His shoulders are broad and tan, his pecs flex as he takes his shirt off.

I swallow hard and reach behind my back to unclasp my bra, letting my breasts free. He peers at me intently as his gaze lands on my chest.

“Last chance to back out, Macey.”

I shake my head slowly and reach for the button on his jeans. The button fly pulls away easily, exposing the valley of hair leading to his arousal.

“Commando?”

He shrugs. “It was the only way to torture myself. Since this afternoon in the club I’ve wanted you.”

Hungry lips are on my neck and across my shoulder, heading toward my breasts as he pulls me flush to his body and my hands push into his jeans. He wiggles and kicks his jeans away and picks me up, only to lay me gently onto his bed. The cold silk of his comforter cools my overheated skin.

“Your tits are fucking magnificent,” he says as he alternates between biting and sucking my nipples. Finn moves from one to the other and back again, switching between massaging with his hand and tongue. Spreading my legs, I beg him to settle between my legs and when he does I rock against him. The friction from our hips causes my panties to rub against my clit.

“Shit,” I pant, moving my hips against his. He must know what I want because his finger grazes my clit before slipping inside of me. I cry out, needing more from him.

Finn sits back on his knees and lets his eyes rake over my body. I cup my breasts, tweaking my nipples as he watches me. He smirks and strokes his dick a few times before leaning over to his bedside table.

“I’m going to fuck you first and then I’m going to worship your fucking body.”

For someone who wasn’t sure about sex, I have no problems pushing my panties down my legs and tossing them over his shoulder. Once he’s sheathed, he lines his cock up at my entrance.

“Last chance to back out because once we do this you’re mine for the rest of the week.”

“Just fuck me already.”

“With pleasure.”