Operation: Stripped & Stranded

by E Kay Sims

  My mouth was watering from her descriptions. I wanted to try everything but knew I couldn’t. This was going to be a difficult decision. I turned to my mate. “What do you reckon, Eric?”

  “I’ll have the first appetizer you mentioned with the chardonnay, and I’ll have the bison, with the Tignanello, please.” Eric paused, looking at the menu. “I see we must purchase the wine by the bottle?”

  “If you would rather a complimentary cocktail from the bar, our barmaid, Rosalie, makes the best drinks and puts on quite a show while doing so.”

  I shrugged. “The bison sounds good to me. I’ll share the wine with you.” I clapped Eric on the shoulder. “As for my appetizer, I’ll try the dolmades, thanks.”

  “Okay, we’ll have the chardonnay and the Tignanello as long as the birthday boy will share it with me.”

  A big smile crossed Shalene’s face, flashing her perfect white teeth. “Happy birthday, Mr. Barlow.”

  As she turned to go, I stopped her and said, “I notice there’s no dessert on this menu?”

  Her smile took on a sexy edge. “There’s no need––”

  “––Dessert comes later, birthday boy!” Eric punched me in the arm.

  Well, that was suspicious. I narrowed my eyes at him. “What the fuck are you on about?”

  “You’ll see. Big surprise…”

  Eric and his surprises. I suppressed a sigh. I was suddenly on edge. More so than before. I felt like I didn’t fit in at this place and Captain America over here wasn’t helping. Then I recalled Destiny Wilmington. Fucking hell, I missed days like that. My sex life was null and void these days. Life in Deep Lake was fucking boring, and Kylie was right about one thing—it certainly lacked anything in the way of good sorts. Maybe Eric’s surprise might be a good one.

  Our appetizers arrived along with a gorgeous brunette in a short, black, slinky cocktail dress. She made eye contact with me as she set everything down in front of us. My gaze connected with hers. A tiny smile quirked at the corner of her glossy lips, showing off a dimple in her left cheek.

  “Courtesy of our top chef, Leah Dawson. Enjoy.” The server winked at me.

  I felt a blush creep across my face. Clearing my throat, I glanced at Eric and asked, “So, what made you pick this place?”

  “I have this friend, you see,” he paused dropping his voice, “he knows the owner of this fine establishment. It’s highly exclusive, and he got me a special invitation to get in here. He works undercover as a private contractor now with the C.I.A. on mostly covert missions.”

  The C.I.A? Fucking hell! What was Eric into where he would know a fucking C.I.A agent? That was some hardcore shit, and it made me wonder more and more what he was into in Afghanistan. I knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t tell me. Not ever. But hell if my curiosity wasn’t piqued. I still couldn’t help prodding just a little. “When do I get to meet this friend?”

  “Never!” Eric grinned. “Sorry, but if you met him your life would be in danger.”

  Well, that was scary. I sipped from my wine glass before setting it back down and spinning it on the tabletop.

  “I will tell you this, though,” he looked at me seriously, “this place is filled with high rollers, millionaires, politicians, foreign dignitaries and probably some mafioso. It’s very discreet about its clientele. What happens at Le Kitteh Haus stays at Le Kitteh Haus, if you get my drift.”

  My resulting chuckle was one of insecurity. “And then there’s me, the little Aussie ice cream guy, sitting in the middle of it all.” I tossed the last piece of my dolmade into my mouth, then realised I probably shouldn’t have used my fingers in a place like this. I put it down to the bogan sneaking out of me.

  “Trust me, you are going to have fun tonight. From what Jake told me, there isn’t anywhere else in Vegas that tops this place.”

  “All for some good food, overpriced wine, and pretty waitresses?” Rich people were weird. But then, I guess that came from having so much money they didn’t know what to do with it. “You know, we have a crazy billionaire in Australia, too. He brought up one of Australia’s best golf resorts and turned it into his tacky dinosaur wonderland. The rich are batty.”

  “You haven’t even seen the best part. Sit back, relax, and enjoy your meal. The best is yet to come. Patience, my friend.”

  As if he had summoned her, Shalene carried our meals over and set them in front of us. “Happy dining.”

  Eric and I both watched as she sashayed away again, her arse shimmying from side to side.

  “I think that food just made love to my mouth,” I exclaimed as I set my cutlery on the plate and leaned back in my chair.

  “It was one of the best meals I think I’ve ever had, seriously.” Eric dabbed his mouth with the linen napkin and then finished the last of his wine.

  Shalene returned to us immediately. Perhaps she was watching our every move, ready to pounce like a cat. Perhaps that was in her job description? “I hope you enjoyed your meals, gentlemen?”

  “Yes, it was fantastic, thank you.” Eric stood.

  I followed suit.

  Shalene clasped her hands together in front of her and smiled politely. “Excellent. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your dessert.”

  Eric clapped me on the shoulder and began to walk away.

  “Hey, aren’t you coming?”

  “Nope. I’ll see you in a few. Have fun, buddy.” Eric headed over to the bar, leaving me no choice but to follow Shalene.

  “Come with me, Mr. Barlow.”

  Shalene sounded like the white rabbit taking me down the rabbit hole. As if I wasn’t already on edge. Eric’s departure had me thinking all kinds of things. Was this a brothel? He hadn’t set me up with a prostitute, had he?

  I followed Shalene down some outside steps that led away from the terrace and into the bowels of the lower section of the house. This place never seemed to end. It rivaled The Palazzo in its size. Yeah, right. When I was nervous, I tended to exaggerate.

  A dimly lit hallway led to a series of rooms, the third of which I was led into. It was barely furnished, with just a chair in the middle. I took in the soft latte-coloured paint job. “At least the walls are pretty,” I mumbled. They made it feel a little less like a jail cell.

  “Please, Mr. Barlow, make yourself comfortable.” Shalene indicated the chair and promptly exited, leaving me alone

  “Fucking hell. What is this shit?” I grumbled.

  I eyed off the chair and after a few moments, I finally fell into it with a huff. As soon as I did, I heard a door open behind me. I turned to get a look.

  “Please stay facing forward, Mr. Barlow.”

  “Sorry.” I whipped my head back around in obedience to the female voice that floated across the room.

  “I believe it’s your birthday today?”

  “That’s right.” I tipped my head to the side slightly.

  “Well, then. Happy birthday to you.”

  As she began to sing the birthday song, I heard her heels click against the tile floor. They were in rhythm to the tune, which had been slowed right down. My anticipation for what might happen was through the roof.

  “Happy birthday to you.”

  I felt her behind me.

  She leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Happy birthday, Mr. Barlow.”

  Something metallic locked around my wrist.

  “Happy birthday to you.”

  She locked the same something around the leg of the chair and I struggled. It was no use. I’d been cuffed.

  “Relax, handsome.”

  “I’m relaxed,” I told her. That was a lie, and she called me on it.

  “You’re wound as tight as a rattlesnake.” She blew on my ear as she traced her fingers up my arm.

  I shivered.

  “Now that’s the response I was looking for.”

  She moved around me as the music changed to a song that was clearly about sex. She gyrated over my lap, keeping her back to me as she did so. I couldn’t help but
notice she was braless but wore a black silk thong. I didn’t consider myself a pervert by any means, but I dare any man to have such a beautiful and confident woman dancing on his crown jewels and not get turned on by it. My breath hitched.

  “You like that, Mr. Barlow?”

  “Yep,” I squeaked out.

  She flipped her body forward, increasing the pressure of her crotch on my hardening dick. I squirmed. She turned to face me, and I noticed her top half was, indeed, naked, if not for the cake frosting on her nipples. My mouth actually began to water. But any fantasies I had of licking that icing off would stay just that—fantasies. Even I knew the rules of a strip club. You were not in any way permitted to touch the women. Not that I would’ve anyway. I’d never touch a woman without her permission. I wasn’t that type of guy. I wasn’t the guy who chased the ladies and acted like the big action hero they all seemed to swoon for. That was one hundred percent Eric. I would never have the confidence or swagger that guy had. He commanded a room while I hung out in the corner.

  The more turned on I got, the more uncomfortable I felt. It wasn’t right of me to want this woman. She was beautiful and deserved my respect. How could she have that with my cock rubbing her sweet spot?

  I averted my gaze.

  “What’s the matter, baby? Don’t you like what you see?”

  “I do. You’re beautiful.” I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat.

  Her movements slowed. She grasped the hair at the nape of my neck and tugged on it.

  “You’re allowed to look at me, Mr. Barlow. Looking is fine.”

  Slowly, I opened my eyes and she held them in her stare. Her eyes were as beautiful as the rest of her. Emerald green behind her lace mask and full of intelligence. Her chest rose and fell with her exertion, and her rose pink bud lips hung open slightly.

  “Did you call me beautiful?”

  I hesitated. Oh shit, had I broken some kind of rule? “I’m not allowed to say that?”

  “Of course you are. Thank you, Mr. Barlow.”

  “Gil,” I corrected her.

  She laughed quietly. “No one ever gives me their names, either. You’re something else.”

  “I don’t exactly know the rules. I haven’t been to a strip club in years. Certainly not one of this calibre. I didn’t know there were places like this.”

  She smirked. “That’s the point. Now quiet, baby. Sit back and enjoy the show.”

  I was talking too much. I was fucking up left, right, and centre. I clamped my mouth shut and let her do her thing, marvelling at her beauty the entire time. She opened my shirt and brushed her long, blonde locks over my bare chest. My breath shook again. My hands gripped the edge of my chair as my desire for her skyrocketed. My pants were tented badly, and she smirked at that.

  At the end of her set, she removed her mask. The entire room came to a standstill as I stared into the face of my Fountain Girl.

  It’s you.

  I couldn’t voice the words as she leaned in close to me and whispered, “Happy birthday,” she pressed a kiss to my cheek before she added, “love, Piper.”

  “Piper? That’s your name?”

  Our gazes connected again. We held them. I didn’t care that she was naked, those eyes were mesmerising. Her mouth dropped open again before her face crinkled with concern. As though she was snapping herself from a spell, she shook her head, breaking our connection. She made for the door.

  “Wait!”

  She didn’t stop as she dashed from the room as quickly as she could.

  I couldn’t lose her again, not now. I wanted to know more about her. It was when I tried to launch myself from the chair that I realised she hadn’t uncuffed me.

  PIPER

  I

  tried to catch my breath as I stepped out of the private room. I handed the key to Leo. “You’d better uncuff him.”

  “Piper.” He caught me by the arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Did something happen in there?”

  “What? No.” I shook my head.

  “I can tell when you’re lying to me, you know.” He pinned me with his knowing gaze. “Do you need me to deal with him? Do you need to talk to Lizzie?”

  “Leo, nothing happened. He was sweet.” The guy had been more than sweet. He was kind, down-to-earth, Australian. He’d had me swooning and I didn’t swoon! Not for guys who came here.

  Leo let my arm go. “If you’re sure…”

  “I’m sure.”

  I knew he wasn’t satisfied with my answer but too bad.

  The night began with me in my chef outfit cooking up a storm for our honored guests, then I’d gotten naked. Now I was about to slide into a long, emerald green, strapless sweetheart gown with silver beading across the waist. I had to play hostess now, and I didn’t feel like it. Not one bit. This was the part of the job I didn’t enjoy. Sucking up was not easy for me. I was a straight talker, and I much preferred cooking from behind the scenes or dancing and getting my tips. I didn’t want to know these guys in any way, shape, or form. Some of the girls regularly got more intimate with them, but I didn’t want any part of that.

  I quickly showered and cleaned off my chest, then dressed, fixed my hair and makeup, and made my way up to the gardens. I pasted on a fake smile and waved at a few guys I knew that were in the Mafia as I strode confidently across the room.

  When I saw him again, I faltered. Mr. Barlow’s hands were on top of the stone wall that served as a barrier to the drop below. He looked concerned, like he was mulling over an extremely difficult problem in his mind. My gaze traveled over him. His demeanor was different than all the other men that came through here. He wasn’t cocky or arrogant. He didn’t exude power. He clearly wasn’t here to cut deals. In fact, he appeared to be downright normal.

  I peered out at him from the comfort of the kitchen—my safe place—for way too long.

  “Piper, are you okay, babe?” Jessica asked as she came into the room.

  I glanced over at her. “Yeah. Perfect.”

  I was vaguely aware of her pulling one of my caramel mud cupcakes from the cake stand. “Who are you staring at?”

  I stepped away from the window. “Nobody.” I looked at her short, bubble gum pink dress. She played well into her role as barely-legal, even though she was twenty-five and earning a Civil Engineer’s degree. “Taking a break, sweets?”

  “I am starved. I know I’m not supposed to eat while guests are here, but I really needed something.”

  I shrugged carelessly. “Screw ‘em. Eat that cupcake.” I took one out, too.

  She smiled. “You having one with me?”

  “Nope.” I went to the stuff drawer and pulled out a single silver candle. I used the gas lighter to light it and headed outdoors.

  “What are you up to?”

  I ignored her question. “Enjoy your break.”

  With a deep breath, I squared my shoulders, put my hostess cap on, and strode toward the Australian misfit. “Mr. Barlow?”

  When he turned to me in surprise, my stomach flipped. I pasted on a perfect smile. “Happy birthday.”

  “For me?”

  Did he need to be told twice?

  “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

  “All part of the Le Kitteh Haus experience. We’ll do almost anything for our clients.” I saw his face fall, but I ignored it. I was good at ignoring a lot of things these days. I held the cake out to him. “Make a wish.”

  He stared at me for a prolonged moment, then bent down and blew the candle out. I felt his breath brush my skin and I tingled all over. He plucked it from my fingers. “Share it with me?”

  “Oh, no. It’s your birthday cupcake.”

  “Well, you see, there’s a problem.”

  “Oh no. You’re not allergic to cake, are you? We have gluten-free options.”

  “No, it’s not that. I made a wish and well, it’s dumb, I guess… but I wished that I could share this cake with you.” He backtracked quickly, “Shit, that sounded like a come on,
didn’t it? It’s not. I don’t want you to think that, because I’m not like that. Said every dickhead who ever walked the Earth! Oh, god, I’m no good at this.”

  He was a hot mess! Emphasis on the hot. How could I turn him down?

  “I’ll share your cake with you, Mr. Barlow.” I stepped closer to him, held onto his hand, and bit into the sweet. I watched him take a bite, too.

  “This is good. Compliments to the chef.”

  I gulped. “I––I’ll be sure to pass on the message. So tell me, Mr. Barlow, what else do you have in store for your stay in Vegas?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure, really. I might go for another walk along the strip, do some shopping for souvenirs to send back home to my parents and siblings, maybe see a concert or something.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not going to partake in any Vegas experiences?”

  “What experiences?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I scoffed.

  He stared at me blankly.

  “Okay, not kidding. Mr. Barlow, if I may, you are not experiencing Vegas to its maximum potential if you’re only going to go for a walk down the strip or buy stuff. You have to do the crazy stuff, too.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t do crazy.”

  I rested my hands on my hips. “You may not do crazy normally, but this is Vegas. Crazy is normal.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  The challenging expression on his face was like a dare, and I never backed down from a dare. “Come with me, Mr. Barlow.”

  What I was about to do was crazy. Dangerous. It broke every rule in Elizabeth’s book, but I damn well didn’t care. I took Gil’s hand in mine and dragged him along until he fell into step beside me. “Tell me you didn’t catch an Uber out here?”

  “No,” he said with a chuckle. “My buddy drove us out here in his fancy sports car.”