Two Nights in Vegas

Olivia Gaines

Davonshire House Publishing|

Augusta

Davonshire House Publishing

PO Box 9716

Augusta, GA 30916

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events are locales or persons, living or dead, are entirely a coincidence.

© 2013 Olivia Gaines

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever.  For information address, Davonshire House Publishing, PO Box
9716, Augusta, GA 30916.

ASIN
:
B00CKAOIRY

Printed in the United States of America

1  2   3   4   5   6   7   10    9   8

First Davonshire House Publishing
April 2013.

Short Stories and Novelettes:

The Bounty: Revenge Can Be a Bitch

The Bounty: Lizzie’s Vengeance

Two Nights in Vegas

A Letter to My Mother

The Perfect Man

The Basement of Mr. McGee

Novels in Production
:

Friends with Benefits

Courting Guinevere

Loving Words

Vanity’s Pleasure

DEDICATION

For those who understand the importance of chemistry, but not stupid enough to use it for life decisions.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To all the fans, friends and supporters of the dream.

Write On!

T
oday was one of those Monday’s that just would not die. It was eleven in the morning and thus far she had been in a car accident, had her car towed, was accused by a rude officer of being the reason for the accident and the little old lady that was the cause of the confusion, called her a bitch.  Back at the office, at 12:30, the office assistant had returned with the lunch order only to have everything confused, and of course the person with the peanut allergy received the order with the peanut sauce.

             
At one thirty, with eyes swollen shut, tongue enlarged to Herculean proportions, and sounding like she had mated with Sylvester the Cat, 27 year old Nadine felt her day could not get any worse. Well, at least she thought so until her moronic boyfriend of six months walked in, saw her face, and suggested they should see other people.  She was beyond caring.

             
Nadine rolled over to her side praying she could get through this day without a mental breakdown.  The Epinephrine slowed down the anaphylaxis but moments later, there was a
biphasic reaction. She was itchy.  She was miserable and it felt as if her clothing was burning her body.

             
Without giving it much thought, she started removing the offending items of clothing until she stood there in her end of the month under wear.  She wore hot pink grannie panties, an ill-fitting bra and way too many hives.  The cutest dude she had ever seen walked into her room by accident only to see her condition, quickly leave and be replaced by an even more handsome man in a lab coat that said he was her doctor.

             
This day just could not get any worse.  Nadine’s face was now adorned with a snarl focused at cute Doctor Man. She took the second shot, crawled into the hospital bed and waited for the floor to open and swallow her whole. 

Three hours later, covered in scratches and a bad attitude, she headed back to the office.  Nadine thought that the only thing that could be worse than pity from your coworkers is having pity from coworkers that are clearly beneath you. Doris from accounting with the open pores and pock marked skin, actually had the nerve to look at her and say, “Poor thing.”  

Gerald from marketing popped his head into her office and politely informed her that even though her man had dumped her, he would be willing to take care of her needs, “I can even be on call if that’s how you want to work this out.” Nadine had no words.  She pointed to the door silently encouraging him to use it, while wishing that Gerald would die a horrible death. Now Nadine was also wondering how her breakup with Assface had gotten back to the office so fast; then she smelled the flowers.

Her dumbass boyfriend had sent her flowers with a note that said, “Sorry babe, we need to see other people.” Why did he write the note when he had just left the hospital and told her the same thing in person?  That idiotic assistant who had screwed up the lunch orders must have also informed everyone in the office that she had been dumped.

Her boss, Rolland Deasley walked into her office and asked for the Mitchell report. “You know it was due at one, right?”

She lost it.

She began her rant about the old lady cutting her off before she entered the expressway.  Nadine yelled at him about the fruit stand she ran into to avoid hitting the old biddy.  Then there was the citation, the towing of her car, the old haggard calling her a bitch, having to catch the bus to work only to be poisoned, she yelled it again out the door so everyone could hear her, “POISIONED BY A MORON!”

Her boss was now sandwiched against the wall, eyes wide, and shocked by the transformation of his cool as a cucumber right hand.  She continued her rant about the reaction to the shot, her insipid boyfriend, the cute doctor she would never have a chance with, and she even pulled up her skirt as she showed him her hot pink granny panties! Nadine continued to yell at Mr. Deasley and informed him that she would be filing a suit against Gerald in marketing for sexual harassment, but gave a bit of a pause as she lowered her skirt. Technically, she was flashing her boss, which was also considered sexual harassment.   Nadine no longer gave a flying font, she was all in and going for broke.

“Then you waltz your happy ass in here and ask me about a report that was due at one?”  She snatched her keys, her purse and the backup Three Musketeers bar she kept hidden in her drawer, “I sent you the report two days ago.  If you weren’t so busy with your tongue down Jennie’s throat you would have seen it!”

She politely informed him that she was taking the rest of the week off.  She needed a vacation and was headed off to Vegas to drink too much, be inappropriate and find some bruiser to lick her until she cried for her Mamma.  Two pats of her unraveled, lopsided chignon and she headed for the door.

“And Mr. Deasley,” she said as she ripped open the candy bar, “if I still have a job next Monday, that is when I shall be back.”

Head high in the air, she marched towards the door, shot Doris a bird with her middle finger, told Gerald he would be hearing from her attorney, and gave the assistant the stank eye.

Her mouth was chocked full of the candy bar as she pushed open the outer doors, yelling at passerby’s, “Las Vegas, here I come!”

N
adine had packed three nightclub outfits, a little black dress, and six pairs of trashy underwear and was headed to the airport.  Tuesday and Wednesday, after getting matters straight with her car, she spent some well-placed time finding the right hotel at the right price, arranging ground transportation, as well as a flight. The great thing about living in L.A., there was always a cheap and quick flight to Vegas. If her car wasn’t crumpled and covered with vegetables, she would have opted to drive the four hours across the desert just to clear her head. The insurance company had been magnificent and had the car towed to a repair shop and it would be ready on Monday.

             
Another fantastic perk about a flight to Vegas, was that everyone was in a great mood, even for a Thursday morning. There was always a convention in town with horny men looking for something hot to snuggle up with for an evening.  If not lascivious men, a big roller with a small tool and a vivid imagination was a constant in the Vegas nightlife.  Of the seven times she had visited the city of too many lights and too few morals, she had always traveled with girlfriends. This was the first time she had ever gone solo with a specific goal in mind, spend some money, have some money spent on her and for once in her sad, tired life, step out of her Nadine suit and enjoy life in the moment.

             
Nadine Jordan was five feet seven, one hundred and twenty five pounds, covered in a fine sheen of cocoa and far too smart for most men’s taste.  If there was one thing that turned her off, it was stupid men, which is why she was uncertain of why she had even accepted Moron Number Two as her man.  It was simple, they looked good together, but that was about it, because he was a tool in life and a limp tool in bed.  In his mind he was rocking her world. She was even more surprised when after three months she was still under him, pretending he was making the earth move and facilitating the lie.

             
She often heard of women fighting each other over a man who gave good love.  Maybe she had missed the memo or gotten out of line, because she had yet to find one that could make her have a true happy ending, let alone make her lose herself in the moment.  The closest she had come to earth shattering was a rumble in the back seat at Lake Hollywood when a 2.6 earthquake reverberated through the hills.  She was going to change her fate, her luck and her understanding of men.  She had three days and two nights in Vegas to be real with herself and she was planning to make the best of this trip.  She even started the adventure out by wearing a low cut blouse, a high cut skirt, and a thong that read, “Yes, Baby.”

             
Three men on the plane had slipped her their business cards and she accepted each with eyes that promised endless nights of delights. She had no intention of calling any of them since they all lived in the same city as she did. It never seemed to fail when she would meet a loser and then run into him at the supermarket.  Who cares if Los Angeles was full of small cities, towns and expressways that separated the haves from the name droppers?  It was still too close for comfort for a woman who was about to let her freak flag fly.

             
Nadine had only traveled with a carryon case and a purse that held a strip of condoms, a lip glosser, her phone and two skimpy swimsuits. The carry on case held edible undies, see through bras, short dresses and other items that when left up to the imagination, could seem somewhat scary. Hell, she was scared.  What was she doing?  She wasn’t some skank for easy pickings.  She was educated, smart, had a great job and was well respected. Once she checked into the hotel, she would throw away half of the things she’d brought and just enjoy a few days of decompression.

             
She caught a cab to the Stratosphere and checked in with no problem.  A quick scan of the room to make sure there were no hidden cameras, toilet cams, or any creep under the bed, she changed into an all-white bikini, clutched her wrap and headed down to the pool. As she went through the doors to get outside, Nadine was hit with a whiff of something heady, intoxicating, and smelling of pure man.  She felt a rush of sensations course through her body and slowly turned to see who belonged to the scent of
Eau du Come Get Some
.

             
He stopped in the doorway and was looking back at her.  He was in his early thirties, six foot hunky, two hundred odd pounds of solid man meat, black hair, piercing blue eyes and covered in trouble. His blue eyes bore into her brown ones and she almost heard his silent request. She nodded at him, acknowledging that he was acknowledging her, and walked away. White men weren’t her thing, but man, did he smell like a night of pillow biting.

A
couple of hours by the pool was all she could muster, she was accustomed to being on the move; resting and relaxing wasn’t her thing.  After a quick shower and a snack at Fellini’s Ristorante, she saw the sun was beginning to set; she needed to get out there and enjoy the night. Adorned in a lacy red tank, no bra, a white cotton mini, and a pair of comfortable red walking sandals, she headed out the hotel doors.

             
The first stop was the Bellagio to watch the water dance spectacular. There were always interesting people hanging about there, maybe she would find someone to have a drink with or maybe see a stage show. The sun was almost down and it was starting to cool off a bit.

She heard the bike before she saw it.  Her head turned slowly to see the most beautiful black Valkyrie pull up.   The bike was stunning, 250cc’s of power, it was all shiny and the driver had some very powerful thighs
covered in a snug fitting pair of black jeans that were leaving very little to her imagination. He flipped up the cover of his helmet and it was the hunk, scented of passion from the hotel.

“Nice bike,” Nadine told him. He said nothing but pulled off as the light changed. Well, maybe it was what she deserved after blowing him off at the hotel. She turned back to the fountain but soon heard the bike again as he cruised with ease down the sidewalk towards her. Eyebrows arched, she smiled at him and he removed his helmet and killed the engine.  A few people were rude to him for parking in the middle of the walkway, but based on the look of determination in his eyes, he wasn’t planning to stay long, or leave alone.

The tip of his tongue touched his lips to moisten a perfect set of kissers, which covered the vocals of his deep baritone, “I call her Black Magic.”

“Do you use her to cast a spell over your intended victims?”

“No,” he said looking directly into her eyes, “but I love the feel of her under me.  I love her power, the sleek lines, and how she responds to my every touch.” He mashed a button and the engine came to life, pointing to the compartment on the bike, “In the back is a helmet.” Without thinking, she reached inside the saddle bag to remove a lightweight head gear.

Nadine
paused, “Wait a minute, you are stranger.”

He looked at her as if she was the dumbest person he had ever met. “It’s not as if when I stop, you can’t just slide off.”  She felt dumber
than dirt and nodded her agreement as he leaned the bike over so she didn’t have to raise her leg too high, but he was able to see the second thong she had brought that said, “Yes Daddy.”