“It’s just to verify that you haven’t won a free buffet today already, and to verify you’re twenty-one,” she smiled.
The thin pink paper grew heavy between my fingers. I wasn’t twenty-one. How was I going to turn this in?
“That wheel is horrible,” the man who’d wished me luck just seconds ago smiled.
He was older, maybe in his early thirties, but handsome none the less. Something about his smile drew me in, but his eyes, so blue, so tender, they held me.
“Yah,” I sighed, pretending not to be upset I’d wasted twenty dollars for nothing.
“They got me for a hundred bucks last night. And, hell, they didn’t even offer me a free buffet when I lost,” he laughed, rolling his eyes like it wasn’t a big deal.
“You can have this one,” I said, handing the paper towards him.
His eyes widened, and he took a step backwards like I tried to offer him rat poison, or a bowl of spiders. “I didn’t mean it that way. That’s yours. I’m happy to see someone get something out of them,” he grinned.
“I can’t use it,” I admitted.
“Why not? They have an amazing buffet,” he claimed.
“I’m only eighteen,” I confessed as the woman at the wheel turned to spin it for another unfortunate sap.
His eyes filled with amusement as his long fingers slid through his curly blonde hair. “Really?”
“I didn’t know you had to be twenty-one,” I whispered.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Sacramento.”
“Ah. Yes, you can gamble at eighteen in California,” he sighed.
“Let me help you out. I’ll cash that in if you’ll have dinner with me,” he suggested, almost too nervously for a come on.
I was down to one hundred and forty-five dollars, and still needed a room, food, and a way to get to Phoenix, so I needed that free buffet. “Deal,” I agreed, letting him guide me to the cashier’s window.
He was tall, built well from what I could see in his loose slacks and button-up dress shirt, but something about him oozed shyness.
I stood beside him, suddenly very aware that it was illegal for me to be standing on the casino floor. My eyes shifted back and forth, watching every pit boss, blackjack dealer, and waitress as they all seemed to be staring like they knew.
“I’m Paul,” he said, handing me the approved voucher the cashier exchanged.
“I’m Penny,” I replied.
It was awkward for a moment in the silence after our introductions. Paul seemed to be unsure of what to do with his hands, eventually shoving them into his pockets. “So, you wanna get dinner? I was teasing about you having to eat with me. You can do whatever you want. It’s your free buffet,” he stammered.
Having a grown man act so nervous around me was a new experience. “No. I hate eating alone,” I said, feeling the control flow through my veins.
Paul smiled, pulled his hands from his pockets, and slid one on the small of my back as he guided me through the casino floor, parading me in front of every pit boss in the damn place. Was he trying to get me thrown in Vegas jail?
“See how they look at you?” he whispered, leaning down to my ear.
I nodded, still nervous that they were ready to haul me in.
“They memorize you, watch what you play, and if you win. Now that they’ve seen you, no one should ask for your ID, at least til shift change,” he laughed.
I wasn’t sure I planned on taking the chance again. “What if I won?” I asked.
“I’d cash in your winnings for you,” he assured me.
“As long as you don’t try to order a drink, you’ll be fine. You don’t look eighteen,” he lifted his hand from my back as we approached the buffet.
It was late, exactly how late, I wasn’t sure. My phone had died somewhere along the long ride, and of course I didn’t bring a charger. “There are no clocks anywhere,” I noticed aloud.
“Ha. They don’t want you to know what time it is, or even if its day or night. Notice there’s no windows either,” he pointed out.
I looked around the large casino, realizing he was right. “Just two?” the woman at the hostess stand asked as the front of the line made it to us.
“Yes,” Paul said, pulling out his wallet.
I handed her the voucher, which she took with a quick ‘congratulation’s’ and then took Paul’s fifty, only offering a few bucks back in change.
I followed the waitress to a table near the buffet, where I was seated with a man I’d only just met.
Chapter Four
Paul was a businessman, the owner of a small retail shop just outside of Phoenix. He’d arrived in Vegas the night before, and so far, he’d only been in the casino where we dined.
“My room is nice, but there’s no view,” he complained.
I snickered under my breath, wanting to say ‘my room has an amazing view, it’s right on the street’, but I didn’t.
Instead, I asked him about Phoenix, and mentioned I was headed there to see my grandma.
“That was a slight detour from Sacramento. You just feel like gambling a bit before you finished your trip?” he asked.
“Something like that,” I said, not wanting to divulge my horrid circumstances to this stranger.
“Let’s eat,” he said, for which I was grateful for the topic change.
I followed him to the buffet, taking a plate, and staring out at the amazing spread. My eyes were bigger than my stomach, piling more food than I could eat in a week onto my plate.
Paul grinned towards me as we walked back to the table, obviously amused by my larger-than-life appetite. Something about the way he smiled at me brought life into my pussy, making me extremely aware of its presence between my legs.
I managed to get through most of what I brought back to the table, at least a bite out of everything, some of the better things, two.
I watched as he pulled out a twenty, leaving it on the table as a tip. My hand reached for my bag to at least add a few bucks to the table. My fingers searched the floor beside me, my feet swept the table underneath, but nothing was there.
Panic set in as I scooted back my chair, pushing my head under the table to search for my missing bag, for everything that I owned.
“Is everything okay?” Paul asked.
I knew my face had to be as white as a ghost. “My bag. It’s gone,” I gasped, fighting back the urge to throw up my meal.
“Are you certain?” he asked, getting up from his seat and beginning his own search that led to the same conclusion I’d made seconds earlier. My bag was gone.
“At least you have your phone,” he said quickly, pointing to the dead device I’d set on the table.
“What good does that do me?” I snapped.
“You can call and cancel your cards,” he said eagerly, I know only trying to help.
“I didn’t have any cards,” I said, realizing he truly had no idea how desolate of a life I led.
“How much cash was inside?” he asked.
“One hundred and forty-five,” I said, slumping in my seat.
Paul grabbed the waitress as she rushed by, asking her if she’d seen anything. She shook her head, gave me a look of pity as she puckered her lips and wrinkled her nose. “This is Vegas. You can’t leave anything out of your sight,” she warned, just a little too late.
The place was packed, but Paul insisted on making a round, looking under each table, and asking everyone within a twenty-foot radius of where we sat if they’d noticed anything. No one had, of course.
“You can have money wired directly to the casino front desk,” he assured me, in his own naïve manner.
Wired money, from who? Even if I did have someone to call, my phone was dead.
Tears welled up in my eyes even though I struggled to fight them back. This couldn’t be happening. I had to be dreaming. I’d fallen asleep in the truck again, I knew it, we weren’t even in Vegas yet. I secretly slid my right hand up my left arm, pinching my flesh hard b
etween two fingers. Fuck, that hurt. Not dreaming. This is really happening.
“It can’t be that bad,” Paul tried to comfort me, pushing his hands over mine on the table. They were warm, strong, and even though comforting for a moment, not enough to keep my tears from flowing down my cheeks.
Paul looked stunned from what I saw through blurred, wet eyes. Soon, his arms were around me, squeezing me into his expensive dress shirt, my snot and tears probably ruining it. He didn’t seem to care about his shirt, but he did seem to care about me. I didn’t understand his kindness. Like Jacob, he’d only just met me, but his compassion was so sincere it shook me at my core.
Chapter Five
The manager arrived at our table, filled with concern of his own, and a handful of vouchers for free buffets, show tickets, and casino bets. “I’m truly sorry. We strive to keep trouble out of here, but unfortunately, it’s Vegas, and trouble is everywhere,” the man with the pressed white shirt and mangers badge said sternly.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the vouchers that would at least feed me for the next few days while I figured something out.
He gave a nod, and then walked away, his job done. “Do you have a room in this casino?” Paul asked.
I shook my head. “Okay. Where are you staying?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“You haven’t booked a room?” he looked shocked.
“No,” I sniffled, wiping my hand across my nose.
“So, you just stopped in Vegas spontaneously?” he asked with a certain admiration twinkling in his eyes.
I nodded, but then lost control of my tongue, spilling out the entire horrid story about my home life, my mom, and step dad’s obsession with shoving his cock into my young pussy, and even my boyfriend Scott, how he was leaving for college, and leaving me behind in the hell hole I’d just escaped.
Paul was pale as he sat across the table from me, staring, mouth open, eyes filled with grief and pity, and rendered speechless.
“I can find my way to the highway and just get another ride,” I assured him, wiping my tears, and regretting spilling my skeletons in his lap.
“Penny, are you really eighteen, or are you a runaway?” he asked, suddenly taking notice of the lack of knowledge, experience, money, and baggage I’d had when he met me.
“No. That’s what Jacob asked,” I reached behind me to my back pocket where I’d stuffed my ID when I proved my age to the kind truck driver.
At least I still had that. Not that it would do me any good.
Paul checked my ID closely, and then handed it back to me. “You can stay with me,” he said, scooting his chair back from the table as he stood.
“I can’t,” I protested, not only his kindness, but the fact he was a strange man I’d only just met in this horrid town. His shyness, his kindness, his entire demeanor told me I could trust him, but there was still a part of me that worried he was only interested in fucking me, or having my young lips wrapped around his cock.
“It doesn’t sound like you have many options,” he rationalized.
“I have a small suite with a separate bedroom, which you can have to yourself. I’ll sleep on the pull out sofa,” he added with a warm smile.
Was I being naïve, too trusting of strange men? I knew I was, but what choice did I have?
I nodded, took his extended hand, and followed him through the restaurant. All the people that were still there when he’d searched for my bag gave me looks of apology, and those who were in ear shot of my story, gave looks of pity.
It was easy to see that Paul was as nervous as I. In the elevator, he struggled with what to do with his hands again, this time clasping them in front of himself while the buttons lit on each floor we passed.
The elevator stopped on the tenth floor, where Paul guided me to his room. He fumbled with his key, sliding it several times before giving it time to work without trying the handle too quickly.
“Here’s a charger for your phone,” he said, rushing to the plug near the sofa.
He pulled it from the wall, handed it to me, and then disappeared into what I assumed was the bedroom.
When he reemerged, he had his suitcase and a pillow in his hands. “The room’s all yours,” he smiled.
“I hate to put you out,” I apologized for barging into his life.
“Nonsense, it’ll be nice to have some company,” he managed to pull a smile from me.
“If you want a shower, everything you need is in there,” he motioned towards the room I’d just kicked him from.
The awkwardness between us was normal, I guess, for two people who’d only just met. But, it was unbearable to struggle through with everything else I had going on in my head, so I agreed to the shower, and retreated to the room with the locking door.
A king size bed was centered in the room with a nightstand on either side. The comforter was thick, fluffy, similar to the one Scott had on his bed, and the colors vibrant and cheerful.
Looking around the room, the décor was upscale, and I knew that Paul must have money to stay in a place like this. Does everyone in the world have money except me?
I stripped out of my clothes, hating that I’d have to put them back on after my shower. Every muscle in my body ached as I stepped into the tiled shower, letting the hot water rush over me like a thousand tiny fingers.
I pushed a button under the faucet, just curiously to see what it done. Jets shot from the wall, slapping against my body with aggression and power, tweaking my nipples, intruding between my legs to my swelling pussy, and flicking my clit with a quick pulsated motion.
Struggling to hit the button again to shut off the stimulating streams, I worried what Paul must think I’m doing in here.
Finally, they shut off, but my body was still trembling with excitement. My fingers pressed against my pussy, calming it from the throbs that had started, and quickly reached for the white robe hanging on the bathroom door.
Wrapped securely in the plush robe, and my long, blonde hair slicked back from my face, I peeked out the bedroom door to explain to Paul I hadn’t meant for the jets to go off.
My eyes froze on his image, shirtless, ripped, and wearing a pair of loose sleep pants. His body wasn’t like Scott’s, not like any boy’s I’d seen, and certainly not like any man’s I’d ever seen. There was no flab, no beer gut, and no wild wandering hairs poking out of freckled skin.
He was smooth, tan, and chiseled like the models in the magazines my mom hid under her mattress. Holy shit!
My pussy started to throb again, and I fought my reaction to press my hand against it as Paul turned around. His cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes suddenly bluer than I’d remembered, and the shyness that had given me slight pleasure earlier, was now bringing me to a new height of euphoria.
“I just wanted to apologize for the jets. I didn’t know what that button was for,” I blurted out, more worried now than ever that he thought I was pleasuring myself in his bathroom.
His cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink, and his eyes narrowed. “Now you know,” he chuckled.
Yes. Now I know. And, now I know you’re a babe under those business clothes you wear.
The End of Book 3 of 5
* * *
Book 74: Her Sensual Vegas Night 4
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
This story has erotic themes and is suitable for adults, 18+ only.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter One
I was already awake when the sun came up, not certain I’d slept at all. My thoughts were all over the place that night, wondering if my mom knew I was gone y
et, if Scott did, and if anyone cared.
My shift at the diner would start that evening, so by then, my absence would be known. I wondered what story Gary would tell about how, and why I left, certainly not the one that was true.
Noises from the other room pulled me from my thoughts. I pushed myself up, pressing my back against the headboard, and listened for a moment, just to be sure Paul was actually up and moving.
I tiptoed to the door, opening it carefully, and stuck my head into the living area where Paul was forced to sleep.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, popping out of the main bathroom, already dressed and ready for his day. What was his day?
A slight disappointment fell over me that I hadn’t caught him shirtless once again. The dress shirt, loose slacks, and tie made him look so different. I liked the way he looked better in sleep pants, and nothing else.
“Good morning,” I mumbled, slipping the rest of the way from my room. His room.
“Do you drink coffee?” he asked, motioning towards the coffee maker on the counter.
I shook my head. “I’m more of a soda kind of girl,” I smirked.
“Well, be my guest and order room service. Get anything you want, eggs, pancakes, soda, whatever you like,” he offered.
“I’m fine,” I said softly, feeling I’d imposed enough already.
“I insist,” he argued, moving towards me with a room key in his hand.
“Take this. Go hang out by the pool, order food, enjoy your day,” he smiled as I took the key. What was this guy’s deal? He was so nice, and I couldn’t figure out why? What was in it for him?
“I don’t want to impose,” I protested again as my stomach grumbled under the plush robe.
Paul smirked. “Eat,” he said loudly, cheerfully.
“Okay. Then I’ll go to the pool. Where are you going?” I asked, still curious as to what Paul’s day would entail in this godforsaken town.
“I’ll be at the convention center most of the day. I’m trying to find new vendors, as well as some of the cool, new products before they hit it big to get them on my shelves, and gain an edge on my competitors,” he explained.
Man of the House: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 111