KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys(88)
“Landon, now you get my forever.”
I hope you have loved Ace and Emmy’s Love Story!
On the next page you can start to fall for Landon and Claire!
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Part I
McQUEEN
Chapter One
McQueen
The show tonight is a packed house, and that’s good for business. Good for me. I lay it all out on that stage, and my moves have made me the most sought-after dancer in Vegas.
My ripped chest is on the billboards for our show Stripped, featured at Ace’s casino, Spades Royalle. And you know those double-decker tour buses rolling down the strip? That’s my bare ass pasted across them, the one every woman turns her head to see.
They’re jaw-dropped before they ever see my cock.
And once they see my massive rod, they can keep their pretty mouths wide open.
And then they can get on their knees.
I’m a cocky bastard, but always getting what I want has turned me from my humble mid-west roots. Can’t help it—I’ve got a pretty face, and pretty big dick.
The other guys in the show aren’t jealous; it’s more that they’re in awe.
“McQueen,” Brad, the show’s manager, calls through the door. “You ready? The show starts in five.”
I look at the woman riding me on the couch in my dressing room, her big tits bouncing as I fuck her. Bouncing as she comes.
“You like that, Jen?” I ask. I thrust deep inside her pussy, and she moans in pleasure as she orgasms again.
“McQueen, you fill me up so good,” she says, shaking her head as I release.
I massage her perfect double-Ds, not wanting this party to end, but knowing it must. “I got a show to do,” I tell her, slapping her ass, letting her know this ride is over.
“That’s not fair,” Stef pouts, her dark skin glowing under the lights at my dressing table where she is perched, naked. She’s been waiting patiently for her turn.
I met her last night, and we had fun after the show—but this hook-up needs to end.
Can’t have a woman hanging around longer than a night or it becomes complicated.
I don’t do complicated.
“Sorry, babe, but I got work to do.” I only have a few more shows at this club, and I’d better make it good, leave with a bang. My days as a dancer at Stripped are coming to a close, but it’s been a good run. My upcoming gig at the new club Hearts Royalle is gonna be hotter than hell and, as the premier dancer, I know I’m gonna kill it.
I stand and drop the condom in the trash, my cock still ready to go. And, fuck, just seeing Stef here waiting for me, keeps me hard as a rock. She spreads her legs seductively, and I know where her hand is headed. She wants to go as bad as I do.
Brad raps his knuckles on the door, calling for me again. “Seriously, man,” he says. “Gotta move.” He swings it opens just as I’m considering another quick threesome.
“Fuck, McQueen, you’ve gotta get out there.” Brad’s eyes scan the room, and I know what he’s thinking. He’d fucking skip a show too, if it meant he could have a ménage on a Tuesday night.
I shrug at the women and grab my opening act ensemble: jeans and hoodie, sneakers, and a baseball cap.
“It’s been real, ladies,” I tell them, offering them my classic, all-American grin. The one that gets their panties wet.
The one that always gets me what I want.
I leave the dressing room without asking for their numbers, not needing to know their last names.
I’m not looking for anything more than quick fuck. Or a long fuck. Shit, all I care about is having some good old fashioned fun ... and relationships have nothing to do with that.
Pussy, on the other hand ... now, that’s something I can get behind. Or under. Or on top of.
Some guys have one-night stands, but if I’m sleeping with only one woman at a time I’m doing something wrong.
The thing is, if a woman wants to be with me, she knows she won’t be the only one looking at my package. I make a living showing off my body.
Some people judge me because I’m a male stripper, but I don’t give a fuck about those people.
Anyway, I only fuck the ones who like my work.
Which is a whole lot.
JoJo
I’ve been coming to this gym for a year. And, still, every time I pull my Mercedes in the parking lot I take a deep breath and try to focus on what is, not what isn’t.
Those lines get blurred, but I need to focus. See things for what they are.
I’m here, at Kit’s Gym. Not in my Dad’s house. I’m here, training. Not arguing with my father. I’m here, free of my family’s watchful eyes for the next few hours.