Tomcats_Book One

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by Honey Palomino


  Afterwards, I walked around the casino, smiling at the outbursts of the winners and watching with sympathy as the losers walked away from the table with slumped shoulders. I spent the evening people watching, enjoying the gorgeous artwork of the hotel, taking in all the sights around me with glee and weaving in and out of the few shops that were still open.

  In Bottega Veneta, I fell in love with a buttery-soft black leather jacket that I decided I couldn’t live without. It was edgy and daring, something I never would have bought before, not because it cost well over ten grand, but because Reggie never would have approved, which made it even more appealing.

  I smiled as I slipped it on over my dress and walked out of the store, feeling a little bit like a new me with each step I took. I wandered back through the hotel after a while, satisfied with my first excursion into the world.

  Strolling back to my room, I felt more relaxed than I had in days. Before I went to bed, I hopped online and ordered a huge bouquet of roses to be delivered to Mario with a simple ‘thank you’ written on the notecard.

  I drifted to sleep with a fully belly and the smell of fresh leather lingering in the air.

  Tomorrow was a new day.

  I’d wake up a slightly new woman, ready for more.

  CHAPTER 6

  RICHIE

  After wrapping a rubber band around all the dollar bills I’d earned tonight, I threw them in my duffel bag and zipped it up, throwing it over my shoulder as I turned to Daine. We’d ridden over together and now that the night was over, I was exhausted and beyond ready to get home.

  The weight of the guilt from not telling my best friends they were likely to be out of jobs in the next few months was heavy. I’d been debating with myself all night if I was doing the right thing or not. In the end, I figured I’d do everything I could to secure financing to buy the place, and if that didn’t work out, then I’d have to tell them.

  Screw Barry and his secret.

  My friendships were worth more to me than his wrath. Besides, what was he going to do — fire me?

  “Man, you’ve been pissy all night. What’s going on?” Daine asked on the way home.

  “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all,” I said. “Don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

  “If you say so,” he replied, shaking his head. “I know it’s the shit with Barry, though. You gotta let that go. It’s probably for the best anyway, he’d have found some way to screw you over.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said.

  “Find something else to do with that money,” he replied. “Buy some real estate or something. A new car, maybe. Hell, you could probably use a vacation, you’ve been so wound up lately.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay, thanks man.”

  “Sure,” he shrugged. “Hey, can you drop me off at Treasure Island on the way home?”

  “This late?”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling lucky.”

  “You’re gonna lose all your fucking money, Daine,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Oh, I’m not gambling! I met this guy the other night, he’s one of those guys who dresses up like a pirate and walks around the casino. Hot as fuck with an ass as hard as a rock.”

  “Oh,” I laughed. “Sure, brother, you got it.”

  I dropped him off near the valet parking and waved as he jumped out of the truck.

  “Good luck,” I said.

  “Arrgh, matey!” he cried, grinning like a fool as he sauntered through the doors. I couldn’t help but grin as I drove off, happy for him. Daine was happiest when he had a new guy to screw and seeing him happy made up for my foul mood.

  At least one of us was getting lucky tonight, I thought.

  I drove home feeling sorry for myself, despite my best efforts otherwise.

  Fox and Blaze were already home when I got there, though they’d both retired to their rooms, leaving me alone in the living room to fall asleep on the couch like a pathetic, washed-up loser with no future to speak of and a half-empty bottle of Jack on the floor next to him.

  CHAPTER 7

  TILLIE

  Mario booked a full spa day for me. After a sumptuous breakfast in my room, I made my way to the sunny luxurious spa.

  The massage was divine, yet vigorous. Once I’d recovered, I made my way to the eucalyptus steam room, followed by a dip in the jacuzzi and a plunge in the cold pool.

  Mario had signed me up for the ‘Spring Bouquet Sugar Scrub’, which I initially wasn’t sure if it was something I was supposed to eat or what. It ended up being something completely different. After being lead into a private room, the treatment began with a special skin preparation, which consisted of two beautiful and very silent women bathing me in coconut milk infused with hibiscus flower extract. Afterwards, they used a sugar and tropical nut oil mixture to scrub away any impurities and dead skin, vigorously rubbing every inch of my body like it was a slab of meat they were tenderizing. Once they’d washed the sugar mixture away, they slathered my skin in thick hibiscus infused body lotion containing cold-pressed virgin coconut oil from the Fiji islands.

  By the time they were done, my skin was tingling with life.

  After receiving a manicure and pedicure and a professional hair styling that Mario would’ve loved, I threw on my new leather jacket and walked out into the world feeling refreshed and invigorated.

  No longer did I feel awkward and lonely. I felt like I could take on the world, do anything I wanted. I didn’t need Reggie. I didn’t need love.

  All I truly needed was a few days outside of my house, a new leather jacket and a new outlook on life, which I was quickly acquiring.

  The night lay ahead like a promise. I had dinner plans again and tickets to a show, too. I was determined to break out of my shell, maybe even find some one to talk to.

  The possibilities were endless.

  CHAPTER 8

  RICHIE

  “I’ll get everything together and back to you by the end of the week,” I said, standing up and shaking the hand of the banker that just gave me a novel lengths list of documents I would need to even be considered for a loan from the Bank of America for a million dollars.

  Daunting, yes.

  Impossible? Well, I guess that’s to be determined.

  I tried to walk out of the bank without losing my shit completely. After all, it was just paperwork he needed. He hadn’t said no. He just hadn’t said yes or even maybe, either.

  Probably the meeting would have gone a lot differently if I’d been a normal guy, with a normal job, wanting to buy a normal business.

  But, no. As fate would have it, I just happen to be an aging male stripper who hadn’t done a very good job of keeping my finances organized, wanting to buy a rapidly failing strip club.

  From an outside perspective, my chances didn’t look very good.

  By the time I made it back to my truck, all I could think was, ‘Fuck it’. If I didn’t at least try, I’d never know.

  And after all, it was just a bunch of paperwork they wanted.

  Income reports. Credit reports. Business plans.

  It couldn’t be that hard, right? Sure, my income wasn’t exactly traditional, but I’d filed my taxes every year, so that had to count for something. I’d bought everything I owned with cash, but by ‘everything’ I meant my truck and my work costumes. I didn’t have much else to show, except the savings I’d been collecting under my bed for the last two years.

  As for the business plan, that was something else entirely. I had no idea how to go about creating one of those.

  I met up with Daine at In-N-Out for lunch, chomping at the bit to spill everything. He made it easy to keep my mouth shut, though, considering I couldn’t get a word in edgewise while he filled me in about his date with the pirate last night.

  “…Tall, dark, the body of a goddamned Adonis, with the cock the size of a horse, Richie!”

  “Glad you had fun,” I said, trying to muster some
enthusiasm for him.

  “Fun?” he exclaimed. “It was a fucking marathon, I tell you! Tit for tat, he matched me every stroke of the way.”

  “Jesus,” I said, shaking my head. “You make it sound so intense.”

  “Darling, you don’t know intense until you’ve fucked a man like that!”

  “Guess I’m shit outta luck, then,” I shrugged.

  “Missing out,” he replied, wistfully. “So, what’s going on with you? You still busted up about Barry?”

  I looked over at him, contemplating how much to tell him.

  “If I tell you something, you promise not to tell Blaze and Fox? Or anyone else?”

  “Pinky swear,” he said, hooking his pinky onto mine. I quickly pulled away.

  “Your word is fine.”

  “Spill it. What’s up?”

  “I’m going to try to buy Cowboys.”

  “What? How are you going to get a million dollars?” His hand froze in midair, his burger suspended between us as he looked at me in shock.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “It’s a dump, Richie. That’s a ridiculous asking price.”

  “Well, it’s Vegas. It’s got a reputation, history, a name.”

  “Still, Richie, you can’t be serious.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a money pit, that’s why!” he insisted. “Look, I’ve been supportive till now, I know. I thought you might get a return on your investment if you invested a few thousand, but a million? That’s financial suicide, brother.”

  “I’m sorting out my options.”

  “Options?” he asked. “Unless you’ve got a lot more cash under that mattress than I thought, I don’t see how you have any options.”

  “I went to the bank today. Asked about a loan.”

  “A million dollar loan?”

  “Yeah, why not? People do this shit all the time, Daine.”

  “I suppose,” he sighed, stuffing the burger in his mouth. “I just hate to see you being taken advantage of. Barry knows how much the club means to you. He’s an asshole for not accepting your first offer. He’s trying to bend you over and —.”

  “It’s my decision.”

  “I know, but —.”

  “I haven’t even decided yet. Besides, it might not work. I have to jump through a bunch of hoops first.”

  “Okay,” he said, shrugging. “I’m sorry, man. I’ll shut up. It’s your business. What can I do to help?”

  “I don’t know. Do you know how to write a business plan?”

  He laughed and shook his head.

  “Clueless.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “I’m good at research, though. Google never lets me down. Maybe I’ll go to the library also. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  “Thanks, brother. And like I said, don’t say anything to the other guys.”

  “My lips are sealed. Until I see my pirate again, of course. Then, my lips are going to be wide open,” he winked.

  “You’re ridiculous,” I replied, laughing.

  “You love me and you know it.”

  “Yeah, yeah…”

  “You working the revue tonight at the Grand?” He asked. Once a week I work a variety show called The Thunder at the MGM with a completely different group of guys.

  “Yeah, you at Cowboys?” I asked.

  “Yep. Early shift.”

  “See you back home later, then,” I said, as I stood up. We walked out to our cars together, and Daine looked at me thoughtfully before leaving.

  “What?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I want to be supportive man. Just tell me what you need.”

  “Probably a huge down payment, a killer business plan and a miracle.”

  “I’ll look around and see if I can find any of that,” he winked. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  CHAPTER 9

  TILLIE

  After another long nap, I drug myself out of bed and ordered room service and leisurely dined on my balcony, contemplating if I should go to the show Mario had booked tickets for. It was an all-male revue show that, according to the ads I’d seen, appeared to be nothing more than a squad of half-naked men gyrating in costumes.

  It wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, to put it kindly.

  Not that I didn’t enjoy half-naked men, but it seemed a little cliché, a little outdated, a little…obvious. Mario was trying too hard with this one. I had tickets to other shows for later in the week, but this just happened to be the first one.

  What the hell, I decided eventually. What else did I have to do tonight? I’d avoided the casino like the plague, feeling slightly guilty at the thought of just throwing money away like that. The thought of winning never really occurred to me, because I’d never won anything in my life.

  So far, my luck was scarce.

  Since gambling wasn’t appealing to me, I found myself in the back of a taxi as it whisked me down the street to the entrance of the MGM Grand, with its excessively green neon lights flashing wildly, and the mascot, a roaring Tiger, roaring violently every few minutes on the massive marquee.

  I strolled through the casino and after getting lost twice in the never-ending sea of slot machines and poker tables, I finally found the theatre. The usher led me to one of the best tables up front and a waiter promptly arrived with a bottle of champagne, with a little card attached. I opened it and smiled when I saw it was from Mario.

  “Hope you’re having the time of your life. Let your hair down and get wild!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. I don’t think I have a wild bone in my body. I sipped champagne as the curtains opened and a Matthew McConaughey look-alike, in a pair of black leather chaps and nothing else but a g-string, walked out.

  No — wait a minute.

  He didn’t walk out.

  He strutted out.

  Like a proud peacock, his chin lifted, his eyes filled with confidence and a grin that screamed cockiness.

  “Alright, alright, alright,” he cried into the microphone. “Hello, Las Vegas!”

  The crowd applauded and I sat there, trying not to laugh and drool at the same time. He was hot, really sexy, but still, it was like something out of a movie, corny and overdone.

  He told a few racy jokes before he introduced the first act, which was a group of the biggest men I’d ever seen, dancing together in a choreographed routine of undulating and grinding. Slowly, they ripped off their pants, the velcro ripping apart down the sides, their shirts discarded in a pile on the stage while they shook their hips in a coordinated display of pure sex.

  By the time they were done, my legs were tightly crossed, my thighs pressed together under the table and I realized I’d been holding my breath the entire time. Slowly, I exhaled, relaxing my body, ignoring the signals being sent from between my thighs and straight to my brain. The fact that I hadn’t had sex in at least a year was like a neon sign flashing in my brain as I watched the show.

  The MC returned to introduce the next act and I sipped my champagne, grateful for the warm buzz that was beginning to wash over me.

  “Who likes Dick?” he asked. The crowd went wild and I smiled as I looked around, realizing it was mostly women surrounding me for the first time.

  “Well, if you like Dick, you’re going to love this next guy, folks, because he is the KING of DICK! Give it up for Richie “The Dick” King!” The MC turned and strolled off the stage as the music started and fog filled the stage. When it cleared, a man stood in the dark, his silhouette back lit by white light, a long trench coat framing his body, a hat pulled low over his face, the fog billowing out around him.

  He sprang into motion, lifting his head and pulling the hat from his head as he moved forward, strutting down the center stage towards my table and freezing, before opening his coat in a quick flash before closing it again quickly, revealing a fast tease of what lay beneath. He turned his head, his eyes crashing into mine as he rolled his hips before pulling the
coat from his body, throwing it behind him and twirling around, his mostly naked body coming into view, nothing but a jet black g-string covering his perfectly sculpted muscles.

  He was all sinewy perfection, the kind of flawless physique that only comes from years of discipline and care. It was enough to make my stomach flip, but it was those eyes, trained firmly on me that cut right through to my core. As if suspended in time, I met his gaze, biting my lip with pure lust, a feeling I’d not felt in so long I couldn’t remember.

  And just like that, he turned away, the piercing gaze pointed in another woman’s direction, and then another, until he’d managed to put us all under his spell, the collective breath of the crowd suspended in a shared moment of desire directed toward one white-hot man.

  And just like that, the song was over and he was gone. He disappeared backstage and the MC returned to announce another act, but nobody else had the same effect on me, or the other women in the room. At the end, we all clapped and filed out, and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop as I made my way through the crowd.

  “The King of Dick can rule me anytime!” one woman said.

  “I sure wish we’d gotten a look at his crown jewels,” another woman giggled.

  “I wouldn’t mind sitting on this throne,” another woman quipped, the others roaring with laughter. I smiled until I was out of the theatre and back into the belly of the massive casino, suddenly in the best mood I’d been since I’d arrived in the city. That man’s gaze woke up something deep inside of me, something that had been sleeping deeply, stirring something that had been nearly dead.

  I felt revived. Like just one lust-filled glance my way, even if it was an act, had brought me back to life like a kiss from Sleeping Beauty’s prince.

 

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