I stepped into the club, walking down the hall that was lined with a red carpet. I had to hold back an eye roll. Fuck it. I let that shit go. "Dean. Red carpet, man?"
Dean looked back at me and winked. He knew I hated that shit.
My jaw clenched, but as I neared the entrance to the main club, the deep bass of the music washed through me. It vibrated into my soul, making my blood roar. God, I needed to get laid. It had been awhile, even for me.
"There's plenty of women here, boss."
Dean knew me well. He knew whenever I got twitchy, I needed to get my dick wet. I needed sex like I needed food, like I needed air to breathe. It was a part of my being. Most people craved junk food on an off day, but not me. Nope, I couldn't be like that.
"I need something different tonight," I mumbled. I was on edge and I couldn't explain it. Couldn't figure out what or why, but I knew something was off. I needed more than just a hot piece of ass.
"We'll get you something, Mathis." Which was Dean's way of telling me to chill the fuck out.
I always got like this on opening night, but tonight was worse. I was usually cool, calm, and collected, but tonight I was a raging body of hormones and mass destruction. If I didn't get laid soon, I would self-combust or worse, fuck anything in sight and after looking around the room, self-combusting sounded more promising. Yikes, is that a man or a woman?
Fuck me, this was going to be a long night.
"Mathis."
I stopped short at Dean's hard command and crossed my arms under my chest.
He grabbed my shoulders and stared intently into my eyes. "You need to relax. You're going to mingle. Pimp out the fan-fucking-tastic awesomeness that is your club and we'll get you the pussy you're looking for."
I smirked. Dean didn't talk much, but when he did, he got straight to the point. He rose to his full height and talked into the mic on his sleeve before guiding me into Club Maroon.
The inside of the club was spread out into a vast space and much brighter than my usual venues. I didn't know why. I just needed a change. Something to bring me out of this funk. I had money, lots of it, but like the old saying goes, money definitely didn't buy fucking happiness.
I was almost thirty and all I had to my name was my clubs and money. Call me selfish, but I wanted more.
A tingle shot through my core as I glanced around the room. It was mine. All mother fucking mine and I hated it. I loved the glory, the attention yes, but what was the point of having all of this if I had no one to share it with? God, I was turning into a fucking woman. Maybe I should go into the bathroom and check to see if I had magically sprouted a vagina.
"Mingle," Dean demanded.
I nodded once. Dean being the only person ever who could tell me what to do and get away with it. I willingly listened.
Greeting the first couple that was to my left, I shook the man's hand and kissed the knuckles of the woman he was with. She did the typical giggle and toss of the hair that usually came when I opened my mouth and landed my gaze on someone. I came to North America at a young age, but still had a slight European accent that apparently, women loved.
I moved around the room in a daze, greeting people, not really paying attention to who I was talking to.
An hour had passed when Dean walked up to me. "Ready?"
I gave a curt nod and followed him to a pulpit on a small podium. As I stepped behind the large wooden object, my body hummed. This was the part I loved. Flashes going off and the crowd of people falling into a silent hush. This was my time. I owned this shit right here. All eyes fell on me as I took control of the room.
"As you all know, this isn't my first run with Vegas." My voice boomed through the speakers.
An eruption of laughter spread through the room at my little dig at myself. Since becoming a billionaire, my personal life had become quite public. As a teenager, I got in trouble with the law that landed me in jail for a week over public drunkenness. It was a stupid move on my part, but the women had fawned over me. I wouldn't change for the fucking world. I remembered spending the week in the cell with a wide cheesy grin on my face.
"But I plan on this being my last one and this time it will be legal."
Another chuckle erupted through the crowd.
My gaze traveled around the room. Whenever I gave a speech, I liked to look at each individual person, making them think I was talking directly to them even though I wasn't. I wouldn't give two shits what these people thought about me or my clubs. The only thing I wanted from them was their money.
My body stirred. To have this control, this deep seeded need for domination made my blood roar. By the end of my speech, I would have these people eating out of the palm of my hand.
I looked over each and every one standing before me. Men in business suits, women decked out in designer gowns, their makeup overdone with not a hair out of place. Too formal, if you asked me. And then I saw her. A small, curvy, voluptuous redhead, fucking drop dead gorgeous woman.
My dick lengthened. My mind made up images of her lying beneath me, screaming my name as I fucked the shit out of her.
While I continued my speech, I made a note of looking at Dean and slightly nodding toward the redhead.
He followed my gaze, his lips twitching when he noticed her. "Perfect," he mouthed.
I smiled and turned back to the crowd, not taking my eyes off of Red. With her pale white skin, I couldn't wait to mark her no doubt, beautiful ass.
Our gazes met.
She licked her lips.
It was an innocent move, but fuck me, I would love to see those full lips wrapped around me as she swallowed my cock.
She was the one. I wanted her. Needed her on a level I couldn't explain. She would be mine and she would give in. If not, I sure loved a challenge.
Chapter Three
Those Eyes
Jenny
I stood alongside the posh bar at Club Maroon, nursing a Cosmo and listening to Nora drone on about some guy she had been seeing. Kevin, no...Ken? I didn't know. The only thing I did know was he could fuck like a champ, but was a total dick. Something I heard weekly from my serial dating best friend. Another reason why I didn't need to date. She got it all out of the way for me, and then some.
Finishing off the glass, I placed it back on the smooth wooden bar and turned to take in the scene. Normally on a Saturday night I would be working, but after the night with Jude and his new lady du jour, I was nursing hurt. It might sound stupid, but seriously there was something about him that continued to pull me in, no matter how many times we played out the Pretty Woman fantasy.
The hot shot that owned the club carried on in the distance about his accomplishments and how excited he was to be in Vegas and not in jail. Seriously? Was that supposed to be fucking impressive or something? The crowd humored him with a pity laugh, and I ordered another drink, never taking a minute to look at the rich asshole. I knew his type all too well. No doubt he was gorgeous, with women throwing themselves at him left and right. He thought he was good in bed, but the reality was...he could barely keep it up, let alone use it to please a woman properly.
Nora stopped talking and I snapped back into the real world. Far away from my thoughts about the men I dealt with far too often. Maybe I was becoming bitter about my job. Maybe I didn't love it as much as I had for the first year. Or maybe I just needed a change in clientele. Especially after Jude. Damn him for being so deep in my damn brain!
"Check this one out." Nora nodded in the guy's direction. His deep, dark eyes caught mine across the room and the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk.
I looked away and picked up my fourth drink of the night and headed for the ladies room, tugging Nora at my side.
"Not interested. I'm not on the clock, Nora. You know my rules." My rules. Ha! It had become pretty sad that the only men I would actually fuck were the ones paying me. It worked for me, though. It kept the attachments at bay, which was exactly what I was going for.
It's not that someone had hurt me in the past. I had my fair share of heartbreak, what girl in high school doesn't? But unlike most of the women I knew, I was perfectly content to be alone. I could totally grow old as the prostitute cat lady without a care in the world, because I wouldn't have to play mom to an overgrown male toddler. If we are being honest ladies that is exactly what marriage is!
"One day you will finally get that relationship stick out of your ass and start dating, Jenny."
Maybe someday, but not any damn time soon. Actually, not likely at all.
The line for the ladies' room was absolutely ridiculous. What else is new?
As we stood there, I threw back the last drink of the night. I was already far over my one drink limit. Any more and I was sure bad shit would happen. I foolishly allowed myself to get this hammered already.
"Mr. Verlinden insists you ladies use his personal facilities." His cold grey eyes scared me, even as his entire being radiated with protectiveness. "The name is Dean Croft. I am Mr. Verlinden's bodyguard. If you will come this way, please."