Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Vita
Fucking hell.
I may have blown my cover. Alejandro is by far the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.
Fuck movie stars.
Fuck models.
Fuck all of them.
No one compares to Alejandro Diaz. I could almost forget why I’m working this party tonight.
I actually want him.
This isn’t playing pretend because I have to.
I would’ve gladly fucked him after feeling his cock.
Generously endowed would be a vast understatement.
But I still have a job to do. I just wish I could have a little fun while I’m at it.
However, I can tell he reads me too well.
He’s probably had a lifetime of training to do it so subtly.
“I didn’t even get to ask you your name. I’m Tiffani with an i.”
That sounds so incredibly lame to my own ears. But I’ve used that line many times in the past in different situations when I’m trying to seduce a guy. I definitely don’t need anyone here knowing my real name is Vittoria Trevisan.
“I’m Berto.”
We stare at each other. My fear that he’s made me ratchets up about another ten levels.
I’m certain he knows that’s not my real name just like I know that isn’t his.
Considering this job, it would make sense that I wouldn’t use my real one.
But maybe I should’ve picked something more like Candy. Hell, even Peppermint.
“It’s nice to meet you, Berto.”
“You sure were sweet, sugar.” His pretend accent is as good as my fake one.
I put sugar on my breasts and around the pasties in case a guy gets a little too frisky and licks me.
This isn’t my first time impersonating a stripper.
I definitely felt more comfortable tonight than I did back then.
If anybody were going to lick my tits, I wish it were Alejandro.
I’d hoped to score a private lap dance with him in a cabin.
I would’ve fucked him. I’m sure of it. I’ve never crossed that line during a job before. I’ve kissed people and let them grope me, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.
Tonight…
Tonight, I would’ve let it go that far for my own personal reasons.
It certainly wouldn’t have hurt my mission.
I could’ve gotten off while also distracting him long enough to drug him.
I would’ve grabbed a sequined shawl I tie around my waist at the beginning of a private dance.
The shawl gives the illusion of stripping when I’m already naked.
It would’ve given me a chance to grab the tiny syringe. It would be a tiny pinch I could play off as my nails grazing the back of his neck. The medicine is slow-acting, so the effects wouldn’t have kicked in until the end of the cruise. But I missed my opportunity. We’re back at the dock now.
“It’s not every night there’s a guy who stands up for us. I appreciate you stepping in earlier.”
“It was the right thing to do. Nobody wants to see his micropenis. I was happy to help.”
I’m certain he searched the cabins downstairs since I don’t believe for a moment he was even a touch seasick.
I found nothing during my search when I came aboard.
If he’d rummaged through my purse, he would’ve found single-use needles labeled as insulin.
But no diabetic would take what’s in there.
The sedative combined with nerve blockers could incapacitate an elephant once they fully kick in.
If only we’d been in a car or hotel room in private.
I know he’s watching me even though he’s pretending to appear a little seasick again when the boat nudges against the dock. He hangs back while some of the other guys get off. All but the guest of honor and Alejandro are drunk. There’s a guy handing out cash to all the women.
It’s the asshole from earlier. The one who arranged this charter and the show. When Petey comes to stand in front of me, he smirks, fans out money in his hand, then turns away from me.
“You can be an asshole all night long, but don’t be a cheap one.”
Guess I didn’t want a tip after all. My mouth runs away from me, and I almost forget I’m standing with Alejandro and the guy who definitely isn’t “Vinny.” Julián suits the guest of honor far better.
“You can be a whore who doesn’t get paid.”
Now he’s really pissed me off. I sense Alejandro tense, but he’s letting me handle this.
“You don’t think we know who all of you guys are? You don’t think we do a little research before we accept these jobs?”
“You think you know who we work for? Then you’re not very bright if you’re talking about it.”
“And you’re not very bright to have come here without your wedding ring.”
He flinches. I don’t relent.
“Oh yeah, I saw your shadow of shame. You might’ve taken it off, but your suntan line screams married from a mile away.
The skin on that part of your finger is so white it glows.
Pay me my fair share, or I’ll hop on social media and let your wife know what you’ve been up to.
Or better yet, maybe I’ll tell your boss.
We know who you work for since none of us are stupid. ”
As the women I’m with say goodbye to the other guys, I grab my bag that was stowed out of the way.
I take the money he offers and drop it in there.
I slip into my slinky cocktail dress before pulling a card from the bag and palming it.
I walk back over to Alejandro. I know I look desperate as fuck, and I’m towing a very fine line. But I give it one more shot.
As I press my body against him, I wish I were still naked. This dress is so short and tight that I may as well be. I have a coat in my bag I’ll put on top of it before walking around in public.
“Last chance for a private dance.”
He appears tempted for a moment, then regretful. It’s an act; I can tell. It still stings a bit.
“I gotta get my friend home. His fiancée’ll kill him if he’s too late getting home.”
Fucking hell.
I’m not as adept as I thought I could be. As I try to slip my business card into his trouser pocket, he grabs my wrist and pulls it away.
“You’re nearly sly enough to be a Venetian pickpocket.”
I force myself not to react, shocked he guessed I’m truly Italian.
I’m not from Venice, but I am from that region.
I know he didn’t pick that city at random from the way he stares at me.
I’m positive it’s not my accent that gave me away.
I can hide it entirely and sound like English is my first and only language.
Tonight’s accent isn’t a Chicagoan one; it’s a mild Midwestern one. Neutral to keep it easy.
He stares at the card for a moment, then hands it back. I wonder if he was going to memorize the number, but he doesn’t look long enough.
“I’m heading back home in the morning, darling. I’ve got an early flight, but thank you for the dances tonight.”
I know he’s lying. I’m certain of it. Whatever he’s doing in Chicago isn’t just about this bachelor party. I strain to reach his neck, even in my high heels. I brush a kiss against it, ensuring I smudge lipstick on the collar of his shirt. It’s utterly cliché, but it’s a reminder of me.
Some of it’s personal, but some of it’s hoping I’ve created enough curiosity in him to inquire about me. It’s a mighty big hope, but I won’t rule it out as a possibility. And it certainly would make my life easier if he showed interest on his own.
We’re positioned near a wall where the others can’t see us.
Not that it matters because most of the men are already on the outside deck.
His hand glides over my waist and hip, down to my ass.
He squeezes it mercilessly hard to where I struggle not to yelp.
He tweaks my nipple through my dress, twisting and tugging.
“Chiquita, you’re asking for a spanking if you keep being naughty.”
Fucking hell.
That’s at least the third time I’ve thought that in five minutes.
I’d lay myself across his lap right now if he told me to. My cunt aches for a good fuck. It’s as though he reads my mind the next time he speaks.
“You know you got me hard, but you also admitted I got you wet. How empty does that pretty little pussy feel right now, wishing I was fucking you?”
“How much does your cock wish it were inside my cunt? We’d both enjoy it.”
He stares down at me and shakes his head. “I’ve had enough one-night stands in my life. I don’t need to have any more. Besides, I have a couple of standing arrangements for when I want to fuck.”
That didn’t sting or anything.
“Besides, little girl, my proclivities would surely shock you. I doubt you could handle the things I’m into.”
“Try me.”
It’s a challenge, an invitation, and on the verge of begging.
Since we’re standing where others can’t see us easily, and his back is to the gangway, no one can tell when he rubs my clit under my dress.
I press myself harder against him as he rubs slow circles.
I feel his cock twitch. I want to grind on his thigh, but I’d leave a wet mark on his pants.
He pinches my clit like he did my nipple a moment ago.
Then he pulls away and walks off without saying goodbye or even a backward glance.
Challenge accepted.
I’ll find a way to see him again.