The Nightlife: Las Vegas (The Nightlife Series)

by Luedke, Travis

  As he spoke he recalled how he’d hurt her the night before, inadvertently. “I may be a little rough in bed, but I’m not trying to hurt you. You understand?”

  She nodded. He clearly saw the vivid memories in her mind, of those times before when she’d been irresponsible with money. She fought against the fear. Blended into the mix was another emotion she tried her best to hide, anticipation. She expected to be abused. She tried to swallow down her depraved desires and think of something else.

  “I kinda have a way of getting into trouble with men, especially with money.”

  “That’s like saying I kinda have a thing for drinking your blood. You are the master of understatement Ana.”

  “I think there’s a target painted on my face or something. Especially here on my cheek, they always get me right there.” She touched her fingers to her right cheek.

  He covered her fingers with his own and pulled her hand away to kiss her cheek. “All better now?”

  Smiling brightly with wet unshed tears she nodded yes.

  “Okay. Now it’s my turn. Let’s go play some poker.”

  Her dirty little mind immediately recalled the moment she’d helped to guide his cock up inside her from behind, a vivid memory from last night. She had a different kind of poker on the brain.

  “You are sooo naughty.”

  She licked her lips. She had begun to truly enjoy this telepathic thing.

  He shook his head chuckling as led her towards the poker tables. “Another rule that seems to make sense in gambling is to change tables about every 20-30 minutes. Not so much with poker, but in the games where you play against the house, the longer you stay at a table the higher the odds you’ll lose your shirt.”

  “That happened to me before in Reno.” With this she sent him yet another memory of several years ago. She’d been thrown out into the snow in nothing but her panties with a broken nose, locked out of her apartment by the son of a bitch she’d been dating for a month.

  “You are a disaster waiting to happen girlfriend.” He inspected her nose as if it had happened yesterday. She did have a slight scar to one side. Running his finger over it brought another one of her flashbacks to mind. Her own mother. The night she was thrown out of her house at the age of sixteen. Her mother packed a solid right cross punch.

  “I think we need to get you to a psychiatrist girl. You got some serious baggage you’re carrying around.”

  “Aren’t psychiatrists just messed up people trying to minimize their problems by pretending to identify with everyone else’s?”

  She had seen a couple different shrinks. One she dated for a time diagnosed her with all sorts of four and five syllable psychobabble terms. In the end he proved an asshole. His particular brand of abuse had been psychological rather than physical.

  “Let me take your baggage Ana. Unload it on me. There’s nothing you can show me that will change how I feel about you. Nothing.”

  “I … I trust you. But I’m not ready for that yet.” It was so tempting to let him be a confessional, but she couldn’t stand to see his condemnation. She quickly tamped down those pesky little flashbacks and focused on the night ahead of them.

  She’s been hurt too much. It will take some time to undo all that hurt.

  “How about some Texas Hold ‘em? You ready to watch me win a few thousand?” She agreed happily, wrapping her arm in his like a little girl on a night out with daddy. Her trust in him filled every corner of her mind. Even though she was twenty six and he only twenty two, she viewed him as much more worldly and mature. He seemed to have the self-assurance and grace of a far older man.

  He smiled at her warmly. “My poker game relies heavily on getting inside their heads. I’m not really using a system, just common sense. If the odds are against catching the card I need, then I fold. But I know what they have in their hands, and that helps a lot. This is a spectator sport for you, do you mind watching?”

  After her nerve-wracking episode with Baccarat, she happily agreed to let him take the risks. She shook her head emphatically, “No, you play!”

  Before sitting down to play, he reached out through his ties to Michelle. He caught a momentary glimpse of Michelle’s hot encounter as she rode atop Kramer pounding and grinding into an orgasm. He didn’t see anything to be concerned about, so he reeled his mind back away to give her some privacy while he entered the poker game.

  * * * *

  Kramer wasted no time getting Michelle up to his room to have his way with her. He didn’t mess around with small talk, opting instead for the direct assault on her with kisses and heavy petting. His hands were up her dress and reaching between her legs as soon as the door closed. She had no underwear to impede his search. He dipped his fingers into her moist heat, stroking her slippery wet entry while he massaged her clit with his thumb.

  “Ahh, très bien, c'est bien comme ça.” That’s good, I like it like that.

  He worked her faster, her words driving him on. She grew impatient with the sexual pace. She undid his belt and unzipped his pants as he added another finger into her slippery wetness. When his pants were tossed aside like so much useless wrappings, she gripped him tightly. She tugged and pulled on his cock as she wetted his whole hand.

  "Il révèle les mauvais côtés de moi.” He brings out the worst in me.

  She wanted to bite him sooo badly. She maintained control, barely, groaning into his chest as she pumped him by hand.

  “I don’t know what you’re sayin, but you’re speaking my language.” Kramer gave as good as got, working her into a frenzy.

  He took her to the edge. Impatience got the better of her. She tore his shirt off and flung her dress to the side. She almost picked him up bodily to throw him on the bed, but controlled herself, pushing him till he got the hint and lie back for her.

  “You are so damn sexy! Why hasn’t some lucky bastard married you yet?”

  It was rhetorical question, but she answered in a sexy half growl, “I don’t like complications!”

  She punctuated her growl with a short hop into the air, landing straddled over his hips, sinking all the way down into deep penetration. It was one fluid move accompanied by a sexy little grunt as she bit her own lip. She always gave her paying clients their money’s worth. She performed like no other woman could. She knew he’d been bedding showgirls and strippers renowned for their agility, so she took it up a notch.

  Watching his aura, she could see his awe as she rode him, pumping, pushing, grinding and curving her pelvis around his cock like some wild animal. Had he known this was only a fraction of her sexual ferocity he’d probably have sold his soul to the Devil to have her. Through furious sexscapades with Aaron, she developed the habit of being far more aggressive than usual. Normally she was ultra-careful with humans in bed. They’re too easily broken.

  She could wait no longer for the much needed feeding. As she sensed him reaching that magic moment, she struck. She bit deep into his neck while grinding down onto him as far as she could go without crushing his feeble pelvic bones. He came hard, blasting his fluid into her, bellowing as her venom’s massive endorphin rush rocked his world.

  Her bite maintained his cock hard and ready as she ground in harder and faster, working her way through a multiple orgasm. She tried to exercise a little restraint, but Aaron had been spoiling her with his punishing sex routines. Hard to find satisfaction with these feeble bodied humans. She released her bite after a minute, her feedings perfectly timed through years of practice.

  In the course of several painfully disastrous relationships she had learned the hard way to be conservative in feeding, and to avoid feeding from the same person repeatedly. Sixty seconds per feeding, never more. To continue was to invite the addictive condition Anastasia had entered into, a bloodslave. Michelle never created bloodslaves, not since those horrible days in France a lifetime ago.

  * * * *

  The raw strength and force of her performance amazed and intimidated Kramer. She literally fucke
d him raw. He wondered if perhaps she was something more than human, or maybe wired on crystal meth. Meth whores were rumored to fuck like rabbits all night long. Perhaps she was some kind of sexual demoness, a succubus. She had milked him dry, siphoned every last ounce of fluid he could produce. Time to break out the Viagra to keep up with this girl.

  Laying beneath Michelle, cuddling with her, he knew he had to have her for keeps. He wasn’t the first man to feel this way and probably wouldn’t be the last. What they all failed to realize until it was too late, is no one could ever own Michelle. She owned them by the hordes, in every city and every place she traveled. They were hers for the taking. It could never be any other way. How can the lamb attempt to lay claim to the lioness? It was against the laws of nature for such a powerful, dominant creature to subjugate to a lesser being.

  Kramer foolishly vowed to find a way to make her his. The problem manifested quickly when she extracted herself from atop his bruised and spent manhood and made to leave the bed. He grabbed ahold of her arm.

  “Please stay with me for the rest of the night. I’d like you to stay. I can pay you more.”

  * * * *

  Chapter 11

  Aaron’s winnings had reached over thirty thousand thus far and there was no stopping him. He had a pair of pocket queens with a queen face-up on the table. None of the other players had so much as a pair.

  ‘Cool Hand Luke’ on the other side of the table wanted to continue his bluff. He had a large stack of chips going, over eighty grand. As a rule of thumb in poker, the big stack eats the little stack, much like life in general. The big stack can often bluff through a hand, pushing the bet higher than anyone’s willing to go. A foolish mistake when playing against a telepath. The fool kept on rolling with his bluff by raising the bet, hoping to scare Aaron off.

  Aaron took a moment to reach out and reconnect with Michelle. What he saw disturbed him. Kramer argued with her to stay the night, and had offered to pay another two thousand as incentive. Such obsessions with Michelle were a common occurrence, but dangerous with authority figures. Men of authority had a tendency to bend others to their will. Things can get ugly when they don’t get what they want.

  Aaron decided to end the bluff game with Cool Hand Luke. He needed to finish up quickly. Instead of taking his time to slowly squeeze and milk the hand for a few thousand more, he raised the bet by ten thousand. Everyone folded.

  He snatched up his chips now totaling over forty thousand, and flashed a look to Anastasia letting her know there was a problem. Highly in tune with him, she jumped right up, flowing towards the elevator without question. He became angrier with every step, wishing Michelle had never accepted Kramer’s invite. He felt like bending steel around Kramer’s neck to make a collar it would require a blow torch to remove. He thought it an appropriate ornament for the unruly dog Kramer. The man needed to learn his place.

  Through their intimately entwined bond, he knew exactly where Michelle was at any given time. She could never be hidden from him. Sitting in her mind, he watched Kramer attempting to keep her in his bed. She had thus far avoided tossing him around, but she was fast losing her patience. She didn’t like revealing her true nature to men of authority, the consequences were too unpredictable. Aaron followed her conversation as she tried talking her way out of it.

  “I am sure you don’t need me for the entire night, are you feeling unsatisfied?” She flashed her eyes in challenge, willing Kramer to acknowledge the truth.

  “I’m fabulous, thank you very much.” Kramer kissed her in expression of his gratitude. “I would like a chance to get better acquainted. Perhaps we could have a couple drinks and go dancing? I can get us into the Flamingo VIP. We wouldn’t have to wait in line like everyone else. I know the manager, Kino. He’ll let us in immediately.”

  “Excusez moi, I have plans tonight. Maybe another time. You have my cell? You can send me a text? Oui?” She didn’t intend to ever meet him alone again. He’d gone total stalker, way too creepy-needy.

  She saw it all the time. Kramer exhibited the classic signs. First the possessive body language, followed by demands for her time. Occasionally men would go so far as to beg and plead. Offers of wealth and extravagant vacations were not uncommon. It was a credit to her control and respect for human life that she denied them. Though they wanted her bite, attention and affections, in the end she brought them only death.

  * * * *

  Aaron emerged from the elevator into the hallway and headed straight for the door of Michelle and Kramer’s room banging loudly. As security cameras tracked his every movement, Kramer’s assistants noted Aaron’s destination and sent two security guards on an intercept. Everyone in Kramer’s office knew he was not to be disturbed while entertaining guests in his room.

  * * * *

  “Look, we’ve had some fun here. All I’m suggesting is we have a little more fun together, a night out on the town.” Kramer repeatedly failed to charm Michelle into spending the night. He had begun to show some irritation.

  Aaron watched Kramer become progressively more insistent, less smooth and patient. Upon hearing the unexpected banging at the door, Kramer’s irritation flared to full blown anger.

  “Who the hell is that?”

  Aaron waited a couple seconds and then slammed the door once more BANG BANG BANG. He knew Kramer was coming to the door, and he sensed Michelle’s relief at his arrival. He’d provided her an easy out. She could walk away gracefully without getting violent, without revealing more of herself than was prudent.

  Kramer finally answered the door frowning heavily, looking regal in his monogrammed silk robe. His frown deepened to a scowl as he found Aaron to be the source of interruption.

  “I don’t know how you found my room, but I’m gonna have to ask you to leave immediately.”

  Kramer’s tenuous grip of the situation had slipped away. Security guards arrived in the nick of time, reestablishing his control and authority, or so he thought.

  “Sir, is this man bothering you?” A six foot, three hundred pound Samoan with a neck as thick as Aaron’s waist inserted himself in between Aaron and Kramer at the entry to the hotel room.

  Aaron answered quickly, trying to avoid the impending violence he felt coming. “I’m only here to escort the lady. She was just leaving. We’re not looking for problems.”

  Michelle stepped toward the door, Kramer blocked her. “One minute here, we’re not done yet!” Kramer’s eyes flashed with aggression. He was back in control and flexing his muscles of authority.

  Kramer addressed the bull Samoan, “You can take Mr. Pilan with you. I’m aware of the problem with him at the tables. He’s needed for questioning.”

  Kramer had gone too far. Aaron growled a warning, “Don’t touch me!”

  With Kramer’s edict, a second security officer arriving on scene moved in from the other side. A good ole boy, two hundred twenty pound ex-marine, fresh out of the service. Both guards flanked Aaron. The predator kicked into gear, assessing the thought patterns and intentions of all persons in the immediate vicinity for potential threats.

  Anastasia began backpedaling. She sensed the waves of power buildup radiating off Aaron. It scared the shit out of her to be so close to someone with that much caged aggression. She was very sensitive to his energy flows. She’d attuned to him like a radio dialed in specifically to his frequency.

  Ana mumbled, “You better not touch him. That’s a big mistake.”

  Michelle also stepped back several feet, looking forward to the show with a nasty smirk. She liked having Aaron deal with these ridiculously small minded fools. It gave her a new sense of power to have such a fine warrior at her beck and call.

  She yelled to Aaron over Kramer’s shoulder, “Don’t hurt them too much. A short lesson, nothing more!” She issued the warning, but it carried no authority of compulsion behind it. She much preferred Aaron act of his own free will. They had issues in the past when she abused her authority over him. It was better all the way arou
nd to avoid it.

  Aaron gave one last shot at diplomacy, “We are leaving now, just let us go…” In the middle of his speech the Samoan made a move. The predator escaped its mental prison, whipping into control. The Samoan reached out his hand and promptly had his arm broken in three places with a lightning strike downward chop. Ana squeaked at the sound of crunching bones as the Samoan stumbled back a pace into the hallway with a red-faced grunt.

  The predator would’ve advanced on the Samoan if not for the marine. Gung-ho made his move. The marine was fast, but not fast enough. He stepped towards Aaron reaching to put a hold around his neck. The predator whipped out his elbow smashing gung-ho in the ribs. The strike made a crackle-snap sound of broken ribs with a wheeze of air from the marine as he collapsed where he stood.

  The predator geared up for war. His aggression levels increased with every move the guards made. Aaron was fast losing his ability to control the predator’s lethality. The predator still recognized a threat. He didn’t wait for anyone else to act. He snapped forward whipping out an open handed palm strike direct to Kramer’s chest. The blow put Kramer on his back, breathless from the impact.

  Anastasia did a little hop as she clapped and giggled. “This is so awesome!” She was highly entertained by the violence.

  Kramer gasped and huffed, trying to catch his breath. The Samoan kept backing away with tears trickling down his face, favoring his broken arm. He was a tough one. Beyond the initial grunt of pain, he hadn’t made a sound. The predator read the man’s submissive body language––threat canceled. The marine was completely out of commission on the floor, he no longer presented any danger.

  Aaron gradually regained control of his inner beast as the situation subsided. The predator went back into its cage, begrudgingly, for the moment.

  Michelle stepped around Kramer where he lay on the floor, strategically placing herself between him and Aaron.