Danger! Bad Boy(7)

Standing in line to pay, I was sure we’d get busted at any moment and I’d end up in a jail cell with a hooker. We climbed back into the cab and I breathed a sigh of relief. No hooker roommate tonight. Caleb asked the driver to take us to the Bellagio. I was back in Caleb’s lap as we cruised down the strip, having to stop at red lights occasionally for pedestrians to cross the street.

“Hey, Caleb?” I got his attention while running my hands through his silky dark hair.

“Yes?”

“How do you have so much money?” I asked him, voicing the question for the first time after wondering for awhile.

The cautious look in his eyes had me pressing on. “Well, this whole trip is costing a lot of money. Where did you get it from? Did you work a summer job or something? I was just wondering why you always seem to have money.”

He shifted uncomfortably at my questioning and, instead of answering, directed a question back at me. “Why do you always have money?”

Hmm, I’d let it go for now. “We’ve never talked about it, but my dad is a plastic surgeon in Houston. Besides paying child support to my mom each month, he deposits a hefty allowance into my bank account. He knows how controlling my mom can be, so he wants me to have that freedom.”

Caleb looked amused. “So you’re a daddy’s girl?”

“Yes,” I answered, unashamed. “My dad is always trying to get me to move with him to Houston. He wants Chance with him, also, but knows my mom has more free time to spend with him. I wouldn’t want to ever leave my friends in the crew, anyways.”

“Why doesn’t he move here, then?”

I gave him a skeptical look. “Would you? I mean, you’ve met my mom. He talked about moving back to Denver years ago after he finished his residency in Houston, but I’m sure my mom’s psychotic behavior was what made him rethink it.”

Caleb laughed and kissed my nose. “I see your point. Don’t worry, she won’t be able to drive me away.”

I playfully yanked on his shirt. “You better not let her, or I’ll come after you.”

Getting out of the cab in front of our hotel, I remembered Caleb never answered my question about where he got his money from. I’d have to grill him on it later. We managed to get an elevator all to ourselves after a group of girls in tiny dresses unloaded from it. Caleb pulled me into his body as the doors shut.

Kissing me long and hard, he finally let me up for air. “Now, about that lap dance. . . .”

I purposely acted unsure. “I don’t know, Caleb. How bad do you want it? Bad enough to beg?”

Caleb glared at me. “Woman, you will take off that dress and dance on my lap while rubbing your hot little body all over me.”

We exited the elevator on the tenth floor and walked down the long carpeted hallway to our room. Outside our door, I pretended to think about it. “Um, no thanks.”

Once inside the room he backed me against the wall, his body leaning into mine. “Come on, Gianna. You’re killing me.”

I tried to hold back a grin. “Do I hear begging coming on?”

Caleb groaned and dropped his head in defeat. When he raised it again, the evil look in his eyes was alarming. “Okay, I’ll beg. For now.” I had a feeling my win would be a short one. He ran his hands all over my body in a way that had me thinking being the loser wouldn’t be so bad after all. His sexy voice drew me back from my erotic thoughts. “Gianna, you’re making me so hot. Will you please, I’m begging you, please give me a lap dance?”

Hmm. Not the way I’d pictured his begging in my mind. It wasn’t supposed to have me wanting to beg for more of that bedroom voice. But now it was time for me to follow through with my part of our deal.

“Alright,” I said with heavy reluctance, like I was about to do a chore I detested. “Go sit in that chair over there, the one without the armrests.”

The anticipation on his handsome face was funny. Like a little kid on Christmas morning. Caleb moved the chair to an open space and leaned back, waiting for the show to begin.

It suddenly hit me that I was no stripper and I could very possibly make a fool of myself. “One minute,” I requested, practically running into the bathroom.

Gripping the counter, I mouthed, “Holy shit!” to myself in the mirror. Cece and I had signed up for a pole dancing class when we were fourteen but were forced to drop it before it started because of Jared’s big mouth. Her mom had freaked and called the dance studio, telling them off for letting two “little girls” enroll. Therefore, I had no real stripper skills.

The thought suddenly hit me that my boyfriend had probably been to a strip club. Knowing him, he’d probably had at least one lap dance from some nasty skank. That meant he had something to compare me to, that I had competition. Some nameless, well her name had likely been something like Candy or Cherry, had rubbed her ass and tits all over my man and I needed to erase her from his memory.