* * *
Alexis decided to wear a hot-pink thong and matching push-up bra, a rip-away tuxedo minidress over it. She dressed carefully, making sure that she and her outfit looked flawless. She was in the big leagues, and wasn’t about to piss off Sandra, the house mom, with anything less than perfect attire. She straightened up, did a slow turn in the mirror and then flashed a smile at her reflection. “Time to make some money,” she whispered to her reflection.
* * *
The dealer’s name tag read Xiu. She was an Asian woman who had a quick smile for Brad and a long look for me. “Need to see ID,” she announced, staring at me. I glanced at Brad and reached for my purse, pulling out my driver’s license and handing it to her. She examined it for four long seconds before nodding and handing it back to me. Brad handed her a card that looked like our room key. She passed it to the pit boss, who had materialized at her side.
“Good evening, Mr. De Luca,” the pit boss said, taking the card and walking over to a monitor set up behind the dealer. “Would you like a marker?”
“Yes. Four, please.” The pit boss nodded at the dealer, and she began pulling chips and stacking them in front of her. She slid four stacks of black chips toward Brad, each ten chips tall. He placed two of the stacks in front of me and leaned over to speak into my ear. “Are you familiar with the game?”
“Yes, I have an app on my phone.”
“That isn’t really what I was thinking, but it’ll do. Whatever you win is yours. Whatever you lose...I will find a way for you to pay me back.” I pulled back, looking at him sharply, and saw the humor in his expression. The dealer cleared her throat and I looked back into her impatient face.
“You in?”
“Yes, please.”
“I need your bet!”
Damn, this bitch is feisty. Brad reached over, took two black chips from my stack and placed them on the betting line. He shot the dealer a sharp look. “It’s her first time here. Go easy on her.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. De Luca.” She dealt the cards.
Thirty minutes and two rounds of shots later, our somber tablemates were smiling. Everyone’s chip stacks had doubled, and even bitchy Xiu had managed to crack a smile. We had slowly raised our bets, and I was now betting six hundred dollars a hand and starting to sweat. I was dealt two nines against a dealer six. With my heart pounding, I split the nines. I got an ace and a two and doubled down on both. The nine-ace additional card was an eight, the nine-two got a four. Shit. Eighteen and fifteen. Not great hands and I had three thousand dollars at stake. Brad nodded at me and followed suit, doubling down on a twelve and getting lucky, pulling a nine. We high-fived and then watched the dealer expectantly. She flipped over her hidden card, another six. I held my breath and the next card was flipped over—a queen of diamonds. Twenty-two. Dealer bust.
The crowd that had gathered around us burst into cheers, and I stood up with both hands raised, whooping. Brad picked me up with a bear hug and swung me around, setting me gently back down. Xiu counted out a rainbow of chips and slid them to me with a small smile. I tipped her a hundred dollars, my biggest tip ever, and then gathered my chips. “I’m done,” I said to Xiu.
Brad looked over, eyebrows raised. “Done?”
“I’m due for a bad turn. Might as well end on a high note.”
He shrugged good-naturedly and nodded at Xiu. “All right, count me out also.”
I subtracted the two thousand dollars Brad had started me off with and passed them to him. Then I counted my remaining chips. Forty-eight hundred dollars. Holy shit! More than quadruple what I had in my bank account. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face and grabbed Brad for another hug.
“Ready to cash out?” he asked.
“Yes!”
I kept an iron grip on my chips as we walked through the casino to the long bank of cashiers’ windows. A bored cashier counted out my cash and passed it through to me. I looked up at Brad.
“Can we take it up to the room?”
“If you want. Or we can leave it at VIP reception.”
I frowned. “Will it be safe there?”
“Yes, I assure you that your funds will not be disturbed. They’re used to high rollers and won’t bother your pittance.” He grinned down at me.
“Humph. Then VIP reception it is.” I left my cash with one of the intimidatingly beautiful girls at the desk, snagged a glass of champagne and two chocolate-covered strawberries and walked out to the limo, my arm looped through Brad’s. At some point he had abandoned his cigar, but still smelled faintly of the scent. I felt giddy, my winnings still fresh in my mind, and slightly buzzed from the champagne and rich food.
Leonard was laughing with one of the bellmen when we approached. He slapped the man on the back and hurried over to us. Seeing my big grin, he asked, “Enjoy yourself?”
“The tables were good to us,” Brad said, steering me toward the car door Leonard was holding open.
“Where to?”
“Saffire,” Brad tossed out, climbing into the car after me.
* * *
The man’s hands were way too friendly. Alexis straddled his sweaty, overweight, tuxedoed body. His eyes, glazed over in lust, fixed on her breasts, which she kept shaking in front of his face. Every time he started to lean forward, she flipped her hair over, leaning back, out of his reach. But she was having more trouble controlling his hands. They kept wandering, grabbing her hips and ass. She could feel the outline of his small dick pressing insistently against her. His hands moved again, touching her flat stomach. She sighed and spun around, her eyes searching until they met Ricky’s, the big black bouncer assigned to her section. She nodded, and he started her way. So much for this tip. She’d been working this guy for fifteen minutes now. Ricky hustled in and grabbed the fat guy’s arm.
“Hands off the lady,” Ricky said, his deep voice waking the man from his lust-ridden state.
“Whaaatt?”
Oh, please. Like this was this guy’s first time at a strip club. Everything about him screamed strip-club stalker. Thankfully, the song chose that moment to wrap up, and she straightened up, stepping away from the man.
“How much?” Ricky’s gruff voice asked her.
“Three songs.”
Ricky glared at the man, his huge arms crossed over his chest. “That’ll be sixty bucks, sir.” His “sir” was almost an insult.
A scowl crossed the man’s pasty face and he leaned back, pulled out a handful of bills and passed them to Alexis. She counted the bills—seventy dollars—and nodded to Ricky. Leaning forward, she kissed the man’s cheek. “Thank you, baby,” she said, and sauntered off, swinging her ass. She walked into the back dressing room, dropping a five into Ricky’s tip jar, and headed to her locker. She pulled out her cell phone and saw a text alert. One line, from Brad De Luca, sent almost an hour ago.
Heading there tonight. You working?
She texted back, Here now. See you soon BB
Not alone. Am with an innocent. Play nice
She laughed and closed her phone. Brad De Luca with an innocent? She’d believe that when she saw it. He typically avoided the innocent and clingy type. All ass and no commitment, that was Brad’s game. Why was he with a newbie, and if she was so fresh faced, why was he bringing her to Saffire? She thought for a moment, then opened her phone and texted back a response.
So should I stay away?
His response was almost immediate.
No. I need you. Get Montana to play with her
Alexis smiled, pleased. She closed the phone and stuck it in her locker, then went in search of Montana.
* * *
“So why Saffire? It’s the best?”
Brad pursed his lips. “It’s not the best, but it’s up there.”
“I thought you only went to the best.”
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He laughed softly. “It will be the best—it’s getting there. And I’m loyal to it. It’s a relatively new club, but a true gentlemen’s club, versus a strip club.”
“Oh, really. What makes it so gentlemanly?”
“Well, I’m sure the marketing departments all have different ways of branding it, but for me it comes down to one thing—the girls. Saffire’s girls don’t do drugs, don’t drink at the club or do ‘extra favors’ in the VIP room.”
“You don’t like extra favors?”
“I don’t like the type of girls who do extra favors. They reek of desperation. The girls at Saffire have more class, more self-respect.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are so full of shit.”
“Yet, here you are.”
I looked out the window at the colorful lights streaming by, the onlookers waving as our limo passed. “Yet, here I am.”
* * *
Alexis alerted the manager, Janine, as well as the doorman that Brad De Luca was coming. Janine, a forty-year-old former dancer, was cool and smart—always catching the little ways the customers and girls tried to rip them off—but sweet, too. Being a former dancer, she treated them all with respect and knew the different problems they all faced. Other strip clubs worked the girls too hard and treated them like dogs. Saffire gave them health insurance, 401(k)s—not that any of the girls had one—and allowed them to move up in management if they were interested. Alexis was not. She liked the attention she got from dancing, and knew her strengths. Smarts, she didn’t have. She would dance until she got too old, and then would probably become a house mom, like Sandra. Alexis was one of the only dancers who did receive a salary. Supposedly it came from her work as a floor supervisor, which she did, technically, but they all knew what it was really for.
Fucking Brad De Luca.
Twenty
The limo pulled up to a long white building with columns in the front and the always-present valet area. A muscular guy in a tight black T-shirt opened my door and offered a hand to help me out. Brad followed close behind and greeted the man with familiarity. They shook hands and conferred briefly, then Brad touched my elbow and we moved to the entrance. Two additional muscular guys opened the large doors, and we moved into a gold hallway with dark carpet. We stopped at a desk, where I was given a red wristband.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
“So they know you’re with me.”
“Why do they need to know I’m with you?”
His eyes slowly traveled down my skimpy dress to my exposed legs. He smirked.
I smacked his arm. “Oh, my God! I do not look like a stripper!”
“I think they prefer ‘exotic dancer.’”
I rolled my eyes and we walked forward, down the hall, passing restrooms and a store. Who’d buy stuff here? The room we finally entered was huge, with different levels everywhere. The levels and tables were all focused toward the center of the room, similar to a theater-in-the-round. All over the room, girls were hanging from long ropes that went all the way up to the ceiling. They were wearing glittering straps of sheer fabric carefully wrapped around their bodies, barely covering their privates while they performed aerial acts on the ropes, spinning and hanging in different ways. The tables were discreetly unlit—the lighting focusing everywhere else—so the room seemed well lit despite the pockets of privacy everywhere. The stage had three poles, all with beautiful women dancing on them. Other poles were scattered throughout the room, with more tanned bodies spinning, hanging and twirling on them. Drink girls wandered the room wearing chokers, suit jackets with bare skin underneath, miniskirts and stilettos. They oozed elegance and sex, and were not the stereotypical tattooed, big-haired, bleached-blond strippers of my visions. Maybe there was something to this “gentlemen’s club” thing.
Brad led me through the tables till we came to one close to the stage. He pulled out a chair for me and I sat, demurely crossing my legs. I stared at the stage, a symphony of colors, lights and glitter. A trampoline was hidden off the back of the stage and occasionally a dancer would swing down, bounce on the trampoline and swing back to an upper platform. It was like a circus on sex-crack. Most of the girls seemed to be gymnasts, somersaulting and flexing in ways that their bodies seemingly shouldn’t bend. Around us, at the tables, the typical strip club activities seemed to be going on—girls sitting on laps, flirting, giving dances. The common theme seemed to be “tanned with big breasts.” I looked down at my own chest and felt inadequate.
A drink girl appeared with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. She gave Brad a hug and set down the bottle, popping the cork and pouring two glasses. Brad was fiddling with his phone and slid it into his pocket as she finished.
“Thanks, Jen.”
“Of course, Mr. De Luca.” She winked at him and walked away.
I looked at him dryly. “I take it you’re a regular here?”
“I try to make it by every trip.”
I rolled my eyes and sipped the champagne, enjoying the show. The women had beautiful bodies, and I enjoyed the ability to stare. The girl closest to me, a natural blonde crawling on the stage in front of us, met my eyes with a steady stare. She winked at me, and I squirmed a little, unsure how to react. She flashed me a smile and sat up, grabbing her breasts in her hands and pressing them together. I looked away and saw Brad glance up at a girl who had appeared at my side. I turned, seeing a tiny brunette with a slight Asian tilt to her features. She had a tight body with big natural breasts and was wearing a jewel-encrusted bikini. A diamond choker encircled her neck, setting off the diamond studs in her ears. Flanking her was another gorgeous girl, tall and tan with jet-black hair and a hot-pink bra-and-panty set that displayed her assets to perfection.
“Alexis, Montana,” Brad said, his face lighting up. “Come, join us. Champagne?”
“Now, Brad, don’t you try and test us,” the tall girl said with a flirtatious laugh. “You know the rules.” She sat down next to him and pressed her body close to his, rubbing his leg. I felt a flicker of irritation, but was distracted by the other girl who had sat down on my other side. “I’m Montana,” she said in a girlie, musical lilt.
“Julia,” I said, shaking her hand.
“How’s your night going so far?”
“Pretty good, I guess. We had good luck at the tables—my first time playing blackjack.”
“You don’t look old enough to play,” she said playfully, hitting my shoulder.
“I’m newly twenty-one,” I said sheepishly. “First time in Vegas.”
“Been to a strip club before?”
“I thought it was a gentlemen’s club?”
She found this hilarious and giggled for about a minute, sitting back on the love seat and holding her tight stomach. “Oh, honey—you will fit right in here. Want the grand tour?”
I glanced over at Brad, who was deep in conversation with the tall girl. He didn’t seem as though he would miss me much. “Brad, Montana is going to give me a tour.”
He glanced up at Montana and me, and smiled. “Sounds good, baby. Try and behave. Montana can get wild.”
“I’ll try. You, too,” I added as an afterthought. He looked at me strangely, a question in his eyes. I turned and followed Montana, and she held my hand as if we were best friends. We weaved through the crowds and I glanced back, but Brad had already disappeared in the sea of lonely men and beautiful women.
* * *
“Finally,” Alexis breathed, her finger tracing a path down Brad’s neck to the exposed skin between his top buttons. “Want a dance?”
Brad pushed her hands away and grabbed her waist, lifting her in one motion and placing her firmly on his lap, straddling him. His voice was brusque and his eyes feral. “I don’t want a dance. I need you, now.”
His need was urgent, almost desperate—in a way she had
never seen him before. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard on the mouth, then leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Let’s go to the office.”
The “office” was used mostly by Janine and the accountant who did their books. It was a rectangular space and had floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the club floor. You could see out with perfect clarity, but no one could see in. The minute they were inside, Brad locked the door and turned to face Alexis, breathing hard. His eyes were wild and she knew immediately that this would be different. Normally, Brad focused on her, bringing her incredible pleasure. Tonight she could tell that he just needed release. Spending time with Little Miss Virtuous had clearly taken a toll on him.
Immediately, she knelt at his feet and unzipped his dress pants, his dick already pressing at his underwear. She pulled down and moved the fabric until it popped free. The minute the thick shaft was out, she grabbed it tight and started to suck, her cheeks hollowing from the suction. He exhaled and pressed the back of her head, pulling it onto him. He set up a rhythm and starting rocking back and forth, his slick cock growing until it was rock hard. He groaned gutturally and pulled her to her feet, kissing her roughly, then spinning her around till she was facing the window. She placed her hands on the glass and arched her back, sticking out her ass. He stroked the condom onto his cock and let his gaze travel from her high-heeled feet, up her toned calves, to stop on her full ass. He whispered her name, her real name, and then entered her hard from behind. She winced—his girth always surprised her, but not being ready made it that much more jarring.