Chapter 3
Chapter Three
I’ve just finished walking the floor of the Wild Card. I fucking hate this part of the job, rubbing elbows with pompous assholes, making them feel like they’re long-lost friends and family. It works, though. They all spend more when they think they’re in with the owners of the casino.
I’m making my way out, passing by one of the bars on the main floor, when something catches my attention. Not something. Someone. I stop.
“Mr. Russo, everything okay, sir?” one of the security guys asks when he notices me staring.
“Yeah.” I nod as I head towards the bar, pausing right in front of the woman currently standing on top of it while belting out very off-tune lyrics to the music that’s softly playing in the background.
I wave a hand at the bar staff, who are trying to coax the woman down. I lean over the counter and pick up a towel, holding it up over the woman’s thighs.
“Turn the fuck around,” I growl at the assholes currently staring right up her fucking dress that is doing nothing to hide the black lace covering her pussy under it. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to hop down.” I smile at her, and when her eyes meet mine, my dick fucking stirs to life.
Big, round, blue eyes. Pink lips that pout down at me momentarily before she goes back to singing—or attempting to sing.
“I’m sorry,” a woman beside me says.
I turn and see that she’s blushing, embarrassed by her friend’s antics.
“Poppy, get down, now,” the girl says.
“Ma’am, you really do need to listen to your friend here and get down off the bar,” I say, looking back up at the woman.
Poppy. I roll the name over in my head. What kind of fucking name is that? Cute, that’s what it is.
Long, blonde locks flick around her cheeks as she shakes her head at me. Then she kneels down until her face is close to being level with mine. “Do I look old enough to be a ma’am to you?”
“No, ma’am.” I smirk.
“It’s Poppy. And you, sir, are ruining my Coyote Ugly moment.” Her finger pushes out and taps against my nose.
I blink in surprise at her. People don’t touch me. Who the fuck is this woman?
“You’re currently standing on a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bar top in heels, doing god only knows how much damage to the wood. You can either jump on down, or I’ll pull you down. Your choice, Poppy.”
Her friend gasps. “Holy shit. Poppy, down, now.” She reaches for the other girl’s arm and starts pulling, making Poppy lose her balance.
I drop the towel and catch her before she face-plants to the ground. My arms tight around hers and those round tits of hers pressed up against me. Inhaling, I’m hit with a cherry scent. I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells.
When she’s on her feet and not at risk of falling, Poppy presses her hands flat on my chest. Her fingers digging into the fabric of my jacket. “Jeez, you got rocks under there? You are hard.”
My lips tilt up. She has no idea just how hard I am, having her pressed up against me, having her scent assault my senses.
“You should tell your boss that he’s a dumbass if he’s spending two-hundred thousand dollars on a bar top. Bars are made for dancing on,” she announces.
“I’ll be sure to let him know.” I laugh, knowing my father won’t find the humor in it that I do.
“You can let go of me now.” She smiles, doing nothing to actually step back.
“Sure.” I shrug and remove my hands from her hips.
Poppy’s eyes dart behind me. “Oh shit, are they kicking me out? You can’t kick me out. It’s my best friend’s last weekend of freedom. She’s getting married, and she’s going to have babies and I’m never going to get to do this with her again. So, please, just… maybe don’t kick us out.”
“Congratulations,” I say to the friend.
“Thank you. I’m really sorry. We’re leaving.” The bride-to-be links her arm through Poppy’s and tries to pull her towards the exit.
“Wait.” Poppy stops, turning back to me. “I didn’t get your name.”
“You want my name?”
“Yeah, so I can tell management you deserve a raise, give you a good review or whatever. They should pay you more. You were way nicer to me than the asshole bartender who tried to grab my ankle and yank me down.”
My eyes dart towards the bar. “Which one?” I ask. There are three guys currently manning the counter.
“I don’t remember.” Poppy shakes her head. “Oh, wait, that one.” She points to the fucker on the end with what looks like a fresh claw mark running down his cheek.
“Did you scratch him?” I ask her.
“Yep, he let go real quick after that.” She smiles at me like she’s proud. “You should never grab a girl who doesn’t want to be grabbed.”
“I agree.” I nod.
“Okay, Poppy. I’m tired. Please, can we go now?” her friend pleads.
“Where are you staying?” I ask them.
“Paris,” the friend replies.
“Let me get you rooms here. It’s late and you two really shouldn’t be walking The Strip alone,” I say.
“Oh, no, you don’t need to do that.” The friend shakes her head.
I pull out my phone and send a message to the front desk, requesting two of the suites we keep free for high-rollers. They’re the nicer rooms in the casino. “It’s already done. Come on, I’ll show you the way.” My palm lands on Poppy’s lower back.
“Why?” she asks, looking up at me.
“Why what?”
“Why would you get us rooms here? We can’t afford this swanky place,” she clarifies.
“They’re on the house,” I tell her. “And I would have my ass handed to me if my mama knew I let two women walk The Strip at this hour of the morning alone.”
“You scared of your mama?” Poppy quirks a brow.
“Everyone is scared of my mama.” I chuckle. For good reason too. Only an idiot wouldn’t fear my mother’s wrath and I’m no idiot.
I press the button for the elevator. Once inside, I hit the top floor.
“That’s a lot of floors,” Poppy’s friend says.
“Alice, if we die, you should know I had the best weekend with you.” Poppy turns to the girl.
“If we die, you should know there is no one I would rather go out with than you,” Alice replies.
“Why the fuck do you both think you’re dying?”
“Because it’s always the hot ones.” Poppy shrugs.
“The hot ones?”
“Yep. It’s always the hot ones who want to peel your skin off and wear it like a cape,” Poppy explains. “Just, if you do that, you should know that I have a little tattoo on my thigh. Don’t cut it in half. You should keep that part as a trophy ?cause it’s real cute.”
“You think I’m hot?” I raise a brow at her. “Also, the little horseshoe tattoo is cute.”
“How do you know I have a horseshoe?” Poppy squints her eyes at me.
“You were standing on top of a bar. Everyone in the room saw that tattoo, Poppy.”
“Oh, well, I should go back in there and ask them all for tips for the show.” She laughs.
I shake my head. The doors open, and placing my hand back on Poppy’s lower back, I guide her out. “Just here. Alice, this one’s yours. Code is five, three, two, seven. If you leave the room and need to get back in,” I tell her as I open the door.
“Thank you. But we don’t need two rooms. We can bunk together,” Alice says.
“I’ve already booked out the two separate suites. Charge anything you want to room service. On the house,” I tell her.
“Okay.” Alice looks to Poppy.
“I’ll come get you in the morning.” Poppy hugs her friend and whispers something in her ear. I don’t catch what it is, but Alice’s eyes widen as she looks at me.
“Wait.” Alice takes her phone and snaps a picture. “If she goes missing, this picture is being handed over to the cops.”
“Smart.” I smirk.