“Why the fuck are you calling me, Colin?” I sternly articulate to one of my managers on the other end of the phone. Drained and irritable from meetings all day, I want to be in my car, lining up a random chick to alleviate the tension coursing through my body.
“Sorry, Mr. Raven, a slight problem is occurring here in the Raven Room. Could you assist me please?” A sheepish voice asks.
“I’ll be across in three minutes.” I snap back.
The Raven, my casino and resort is not like any other resort in Sydney or the entire country of Australia. You would find this style in Las Vegas, adding to its lure and charm. Total opulence, glamour, metallic, and marble, and framed by large glassed areas casting natural light throughout Reception, provides a backdrop to space encasing the front area. Of course, the art and specific furniture choices heighten the mystique, romance, and magic.
Confidently walking into the Raven Room, I hear a man shouting and my manager calmly talking to him, assuring him we try and assist all our participants during the speed dating process and not just those who are under the age of twenty-five. In front of me stands a short, portly man in brown pants and olive shirt. Fuck, how can he expect to find anyone looking like this? But that isn’t my problem —his loud voice is.
“Sir, my name is Mr. Raven. How can I help you tonight?” I say, holding out my hand to shake his, continuing to move him along to the doorway where it is a little more private.
“Oh…my… The Mr. Raven. Nice to meet you.” He reaches out to shake my hand, limply taking it. What a pathetic piece of a man. “I was discussing with your manager here my issues.” After assuring him for ten minutes that we do cater to ages eighteen years and upward, I offer him a free night’s accommodation and dinner to appease him, plus a selfie. Fuck… What a jerk. Colin escorts him down to the reception area.
“Good luck with everything, sir,” I smoothly say as I turn and walk in the opposite direction. I quietly stroll over to where the single lounge chairs are positioned together to enhance the connection between potential couples. Colin and his team do an excellent job at providing intimate, calming, quiet music, which can be heard above the voices of prospective lovers and waiters floating around without intrusion. I guess that is why I hire the best staff…and why this hotel is such a success.
Unexpectedly, something of what looks like long black hair catches my eye as I start to depart from the room. I turn my polished black shoes around effortlessly to face where I have just come from. There it is. Shiny, long, black hair cascading down the statuesque back of a woman sitting on the cream lounge chair contrasting with it, taking my breath away. Bright red stilettos, crossed elegantly at the side of her catch my line of sight.
I want to run my fingers through her hair and then down those slender pale arms holding the fragile crystal glass. Thinking about how hot her pussy is for me, screams of my name filling the air, while those shoes balance on my shoulders next to my ears. It would be unadulterated ecstasy.
I take another step approaching this magnificent beauty and stop. What am I doing? I need to get a grip on myself, but I can’t stop looking at her. A forceful desperation making it impossible to alter my stare. It’s a lucky thing her back is facing me or I would be caught like a school kid staring at her.
“Mr. Raven, please accept my apologies for contacting you earlier, but he was a persistent man who refused to leave and I thought security would look too intrusive in such an intimate setting. I hope you understand?”
I turn my head toward my manager and nod, the spell effectively broken.
“Colin, how do I find out a lady’s name who attended tonight’s dating service?” I ask in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Sir, every person fills in a card with their details for the purpose of sharing with specific others who are interested in pursuing each other after the night has finished. We, of course, run security checks on the individual client to ensure the safety of everyone, which is a prerequisite for all attendees. Which lady, Sir?”
Walking with Colin side by side and away from her, I mention, “The woman with straight black hair, sitting by herself with the champagne flute.”
Colin’s head turns back, looking at the seated individuals until he finds the one lady who has instantly caught my attention. Arriving at the long oak table to the side of the double doorway where the singles tonight have entered, he reaches into his folders and pulls out a white card.
“Her name is Isla Winters and her phone number is listed on this card.”
Pulling out my cell, I carefully punch in her contact details and thank Colin for his continual excellent work and precision to detail and I leave.
“Thomas, I am going to be working late tonight. Could you come with the car around 2 AM? Good, see you then.” I reach my business office, hanging up the phone to my personal driver. Thomas has been with me for over five years. Hired as my driver and head of security, he’s proven on numerous occasions his dedication and loyalty to me and my family. Being introduced to me by a mutual friend, retiring from an ex-military life, so he could devote more time to his life in Australia, I had an opening and an instant connection with him. At age fifty-two, his strong physically fit body can still knock me on my ass. His body is a weapon in its own right and I trust him with my life.
Pulling my jacket off, I get two fingers of 1937 Glenfiddich and swallow it fast. Refilling my glass, I sit back in my cream leather chair, calmer than I was ten seconds ago. I mentally chastise myself about letting this woman get into my thoughts, how she made me ask Colin for her number like I need to sort out women because I’m so desperate. I certainly never ask my staff for phone numbers! What the fuck was I thinking. Fuck, Fuck, FUCK…
Being the boss, I don’t pursue women like this. I have no trouble getting a great fuck for a night. I only have to walk into my nightclub, The Basement, and I can choose anyone I want. I can go anywhere and click my fingers and have a quick fuck lined up.
Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes and imagine her lean hands cupping my balls. Her hair fanning out over my chest as she takes my dick in her mouth. My breathing hitches and my eyes fly open. Downing my last mouthful of alcohol, I decide to switch on my security monitors. Every part of my casino is under surveillance. I will find her if she is still here and, hell, I hope she is. Needing another scotch, I walk to pour myself one and, as I turn back, she’s in my view, dancing and wrapping those gorgeous arms around another lady. Mingling with men on either side of her, hands, asses, and heads touching each other everywhere.
Balling my hands in to fists, a surge of anger rips through my chest. Get your filthy hands off her…she is mine…
Fuck, I need to get control of myself. Random thoughts like these haven’t entered my mind for over five years when I had sworn never to put myself in that position again. The sight of one Isla Winters, brings these thoughts all back to the surface in a glance. Confusion slams through me but the urgency taking a hold of me is too great to ignore.
Not waiting one more second, I slam my drink down on my large wooden desk and grab my jacket. I head down to The Basement in the elevator, then to the back area of the nightclub where my exclusive private office is. Only for me and my family, never for anyone else to be a part of. This space offers me privacy when dealing with the less than pleasurable parts of my life. Being related to one of the most notorious Italian mafia heads comes with its fair share of responsibilities. My uncle, the head of the family, understands me and my cousins wish to remain detached from the family’s illegal business projects but in return when we are required to help due to unforeseen circumstances we assist without question and wholeheartedly. Meaning our hands have become dirty over the years. All part and parcel of being in this very protective and loyal family. It’s part of me just as I’m part of it.
Striding past one of my security personnel I nod, eyes fixed on my door. “It is a pleasure to see you this evening, Mr. Raven. Is there anything you need?”
I shake my head. “No, thanks, Charlie. I’m just heading into my office for a while. I’m not to be disturbed.” I shut the door and sit in the darkness scanning the dance floor for Isla. The one-way glass surrounding my compound helps me assess danger and security risks, allowing me to find the sexy lady, in those fuck-me heels, to make sure no bastard is touching her.
Who am I trying to kid? Why do I even care?
After thirty minutes of watching, it’s clear the men around Isla are taking limited interest in her. They’re weaving around her looking for the attention of her girlfriend. Fuck, how I want to stake my claim on her. Showing her how important she is. How intrigued I am by her body. But it’s not just that though. Her eyes reveal a sadness. I want to know why a strikingly beautiful lady who should ooze confidence, doesn’t.
Isla leaves the main dance floor after talking to a stunning, willowy, and toned tall woman, who smiles gracefully before returning to her dancing. She is heading to the restroom. Fuck. Now’s my chance.
Pulling my door almost off its hinges, I bang it closed once I’m through it. I proceed to walk briskly on the plush black carpet to the same area Isla is headed. Being the owner of the casino assists me in getting to her without the crowds through my own passages for security. I stop brusquely out of view of the entry, waiting in the shadows. Ten breaths later, a striking woman swirls out of the doorway, with red stilettos freely spinning and, fuck me, her black dress lifts above her thighs, giving me a short glimpse of her panties. Goddam it. I’m watching her like I’m some school kid. Where’s my steely ass demeanor gone that not one single person has ever broken through? Closing my eyes, I swear to myself and get my head back in the game. I purposefully start walking at her. I don’t want to frighten her, but I’m going to have her.
She stops at the Rococo settee I recently purchased on my last trip overseas. She bends down on her hands and knees with her glorious ass tilted up in the air. She is scanning the seat for something. Well fuck me…
I can’t believe my luck, the desirable, stunning beauty poised for me in a magnificent fashion.
I can’t help but smirk trying hard to compose myself, showing only my confident self. “Can I help you, miss?”
My eyes immediately fix on her ruby plump lips and then her astonishing violet eyes, peeking out from behind her dark, long lashes as she turns her head to look at me. Stopping my smirk when her eyes roam over my body and at how awkward she looks trying to stand up is impossible. Catching her and getting to touch her is an added benefit to this encounter. My dick hardens in an instant when I place my hand on the curve of her back. Sitting on my antique lounge with her calling me ‘sir,’ I want to strip her naked and find out how wet she is. Just touching her cheek sends a shiver far up my spine and my body is starting to breathe unevenly. She’s in a trance-like state unlike most women who swoon over me, throwing themselves at my feet, making me notice their plastic features or fake personalities. I enjoy her stillness. It gifts me with the chance to observe her delectable features although she won’t open her beautiful eyes so I can take their beauty in fully. I talk more, becoming increasingly aware that my hands want to touch every square inch of her, my cock begging me to do so. I should take her up to my suite for fast-paced sex and pleasure dominated by me as I do with all the other women who fall at my feet but I don’t. There’s something different about this woman in front of me.
Oozing from her is an innocence I rarely see in my world. An innocence that would be easily burned in my surroundings. But here I am captivated by her beauty, sadness, and vulnerable state wanting to understand why she doesn’t instantly recognize me, and lacking in confidence when trying to talk to me. I want to understand and own every part of Isla and her delectable body. But history has shown in my life, this wouldn’t be a smart decision.
My name is all I can bear to whisper before I turn, taking decisive steps heading away from a woman who would turn my life into chaos.
Scream out my name, Isla. Ask me to go harder and faster. Let me worship you…would be the next words off my lips if I didn’t walk away now…
Intrigued as to why I found it necessary to follow her movements throughout my casino is confusing me. My life isn’t the place for a one-woman man and I can tell by the way she was dazed by my appearance, her difficulty talking to me, the way her violet eyes, the color of the sky when the sun is setting, pierced into my soul that’s exactly what type of woman she is.
I don’t believe in love at first sight. Adoration, fondness, or even desire for a female isn’t something that enters my head anymore. Lust, heat, powerful sex occupies enough of my brain’s capacity leaving no room to deal with any of that other crap that seems to be part and parcel of the women who want a piece of my time and me.
She deserves better than what I can offer her. Danger, no privacy, bodyguards, bloodshed, criminals and their illegal activities isn’t for a girl such as Isla.
Deep in thought, walking to my private elevator, I type a message to Thomas.
Car…now.