Sexy

by JA Huss

  I’m conservative in just the right ways. I like classic things. Especially fashion. And Cole wears classically cut clothes. Not those skinny pants trendy men wear with their suits. No, Cole likes a cut that flatters, but isn’t too flashy. His style says business.

  “Did you even hear me?” Claudio is asking with irritation.

  “What? Sorry, I was lost in thought. Isn’t this dress perfect? Cole is going to love it!”

  He crinkles his nose at me in disgust. “I don’t want to talk about Cole. He’s boring.”

  “He’s not boring. We like all the same things. Classic movies, quiet nights at home, and the symphony.”

  Claudio snorts at that statement and now I’m annoyed. “I’ve never seen the two of you at the symphony,” he says.

  “But he likes it, Claudio. I know him. I’ve seen his playlist at work. It’s all classical music. I bet once we hit our stride we’d frequent the ballet and everything. Oh my God,” I squeal, turning around to look at my BFF. “I bet we go see The Nutcracker together at Christmas.”

  “Girlfriend, you are delusional. I’ve seen him just as much as you and he does not look even remotely interested in a Sugarplum Fairy. But that stripper in the show, now that fairy can dance. Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

  “You’re not helping, Claudio. I have confidence right now that this is gonna work out. I need your support.”

  He eyes me up and down and then tilts his head and gives me a sidelong glance. “You do have confidence. Where did that come from?”

  “Gee, thanks. I’ve always had confidence. But now I feel like I have a plan. You said he sees me as a sister. Which I don’t believe,” I say, before he can put the kibosh on my momentum. “But maybe there is a smidge of truth to that. So all I have to do is change his mind and make him see me as a desirable woman. Right?” I beam a smile at him.

  He scratches his head with one dainty fingernail. “OK. You know I’m on your side, and if you feel Cole is your forever man, then I’m there for you, sweetie. But—”

  “No buts! Now let me get ready. I only have thirty-five minutes to turn into the woman of his dreams.”

  “Fine,” he says, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “I’m gonna go stalk that hottie and see if he’ll let me lick his abs.”

  I just shake my head. But my tryst with Novak really has given me a new perspective. Seduction is a skill. All I need to do is learn it. And I’ve got good tips to try out today.

  Cole will be mine.

  It’s only a matter of time.

  Chapter Ten

  The ringing phone on the nightstand wakes me from the most restful sleep I’ve had in weeks. Fuck.

  I smile. That was a good fuck. I left her up there all sweaty and flushed from the sex and then came back to my room and passed out. I was up all last night putting together that proposal. And it looks like it was worth it. Because Tiffy Preston was impressed enough to give me a brand-new once-over.

  Not that I care about her. I don’t. And now that I’ve had her, I can forget about her. She won’t be firing me for dating show patrons. And she doesn’t know about any of the other stuff I’m doing. So good. It was an excellent move taking her up on that roof. And I mean that in every way possible.

  The ringing phone makes me turn over and pick up the receiver from the nightstand. Room phone means front desk. “Yeah?” I say, annoyed.

  “Mr. Novak,” Kristen from guest services says. “You have a visitor down here. Her name is—”

  Shit. It doesn’t matter who the girl is, it’s someone I don’t want to see again. Once is enough. “Tell her I’m unavailable at the moment.”

  “Sure thing, Fletch. Sorry to bother you. I know you don’t like to get calls. But she’s feisty. And she looks mad.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Kristen.” I hang up the phone and check the time. I’m hungry. I skipped breakfast this morning and now it’s well past lunch. So I force myself to get up and take a shower.

  I think about work as I wash up. Not this stripper job. That’s not work. Katie, she’s work. I mean, the stripping pays decent. But the contracts, those are priceless. Katie is my only client at the moment, but I need her. So I better come up with a plan to get her the man of her dreams so I can keep things moving forward. We’ve got daily calls for the next week to plan shit out.

  I get out, towel off, and then tug on a pair of jeans, a Mountain Men t-shirt, and my boots. Time to head out and see how my little world is turning downstairs.

  I get to the bar a few minutes later and greet Sissy at the bar. “Hey, Sis. How about a Dos Equis and a large order of chicken nachos?”

  Sis winks at me. “You got it, Fletch.”

  I wait for my beer and then turn around on my stool so I can see the whole bar and adjoining restaurant. This place isn’t always so busy, but the Shakespeare Festival runs all summer in the Village up north, and people swarm to that shit, so the casinos are hopping right now. I grew up here, so I’ve seen every Shakespeare play live, ten times over. If I’m having a dry spell with the stripper-lovers from the show, I can usually pick up a girl by quoting that old bastard.

  Good stuff. Tahoe is filled with good stuff. And if I can just get this last little bit of shit together, I’d be able to enjoy it more.

  But it’s within reach. Finally, I feel like life is about to go my way. And I can’t wait.

  xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

  I study the room and the people as I wait for my food. Girls—plenty of lookers. Guys, mostly gamblers, and mostly local. Some rich professional types, here to play golf and pretend that they brought the family for the boating. And an energy in the air. An energy I have come to appreciate since I took this gig as a stripper.

  It was a good move.

  “Hey, Fletch,” Britt, one of the day waitresses, says as she drops off my plate of nachos. “How’s things?”

  “Perfect, Britt. Thanks for the chips.” I’ve never fucked a waitress. Or anyone who works here, for that matter. But I go out with them every now and then. Britt likes to rock-climb. Sis, the weekday bartender, likes rafting on the river. The Truckee River is not fast and challenging, so we usually get a big raft, some beers in a cooler, and spend the day floating down to the pool a few miles away.

  I’d say they are friends. Decent friends, if pressed. I don’t talk too much shop with them, but I don’t talk shop with anyone, not even the other guys in the show. It’s nice. And casual. Which is how I like my life. Casual. It says it all, right? Easy-going. Light-hearted. Fun.

  Life and fun go together like shits and giggles. But it hasn’t always been this way.

  I shake that last thought out of my mind as I munch on my food and drink my beer. The past is the past. Complicated.

  I don’t like complications. I’m like the river. Smooth and peaceful. I don’t get riled up, I don’t get hung up, and I don’t get serious.

  At least with women. I’ve seen too much over the past ten years to fall into that trap.

  I sit there and enjoy the view, the bustle of the casino out past all the tables, and the—

  Wait a minute. Is that…?

  Aw, fuck. Tiffy Preston is heading my direction and she’s got a huge smile on her face. Jesus Christ, didn’t she get my note? I mean, how much clearer could I have made it? One time only, Tiff. One time only!

  Double fuck. She’s waving. I give her a sheepish smile and sink into my chair. Do I wave back? I mean, she’s the big boss’ daughter. Do I have to be polite and shit? Why the hell did I bang the boss’ daughter? She’s an employee. Just like Sis and Britt. Why the fuck didn’t I realize that before my cock got the best of me?

  I know why. She kept me up all night working on that proposal. And she got me so fucking hard at the show last night. Add in the exchange at the door when I was ready to jump her and she ambushed me. Well, it was sorta well played on her part. She got me. And that business suit is so not my type.

  I have no clue what I was thinking.

  I slump down a little more in my chai
r and give her a wave, hoping this convo won’t get ugly. “Hey,” I say weakly as she beams another smile, still making a beeline for my table.

  “Tiffy,” a voice booms from off to my right. The guy from her room last night. Cole. “I was starting to think you were standing me up.”

  Tiffy laughs and allows him to give her a polite hug as he puts his hand in the small of her back and leads her away from the bar towards a table on the other side of the restaurant.

  Fuck. I sit there, a little embarrassed, then a little relieved that I didn’t have to have that awkward conversation with her.

  Dodged another bullet, Novak, I tell myself.

  “I heard she tried to fire you this morning,” Sis says, opening another beer and taking away my empty. “And you gave her a run for her money.”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle, remembering the meeting. “It was fun. I got her all flustered.”

  “You usually do, Fletch.” Another customer calls for Sis and she skips off down the bar to fill his order.

  I got Tiffy flustered upstairs as well. She’s quite pretty, if you’re into those career women. Her dress this morning was sophisticated business attire. White, sleeveless, hit just below the knee, and absolutely no cleavage. Even her little white shoes were office-approved two-inch heels.

  But now she looks… different. Her pink dress isn’t exactly casual, but not professional either. It’s flirty. It’s short. And very low-cut. Her shoes have some little sparkly things on them and that is definitely a four-inch heel.

  She’s sexy.

  Damn. Tiffy Preston doesn’t look as buttoned up as I first thought.

  I picture her legs spread open before me. Her soft mewling as I licked her pussy. Her manicured fingertips digging into my hair.

  Fuck. I’m hard again.

  I watch her as that Cole guy pulls out her chair and then scoots it in as she sits. She’s facing me, so I see her smile a little as he walks around to take his seat.

  Hmmmm. What’s going on here?

  I study her face, waiting for her to notice me as they chat. But she only has eyes for him. Did she see me earlier? Is she trying to make me jealous by having lunch with another guy after fucking me? After I gave her three goddamned orgasms not three hours ago? Really?

  “Pfft,” I mutter under my breath. Gonna take more than that to make me look twice.

  But then she licks her lips.

  Wait. Did I just imagine that?

  Nope. She’s chewing on them too. And then her fingertip sweeps up and traces her plump lower lip as she casually pretends to wipe away a drop of the pink champagne Mr. Fancy-Pants greeted her with. Pink champagne? Who the fuck drinks pink alcohol?

  Britt comes to their table with plates of lobster tail and a new bottle of champagne. She laughs with them and I get a little pissed off.

  Is Tiffy practicing my seduction tips on that guy? That guy? Really? He’s like ten years older than her. He’s huge. Like six foot four at least. And he’s got to weigh two-twenty. I bet he shops at Big & Tall. She cannot be serious. No way is she interested in him.

  And that just pisses me off more. Because, oh, hell the fuck no. I do not dish out trade secrets to a one-night stand only to have her go use them on a worthless prospect. Anyone can see he’s all wrong for her. He is not a possibility. Not at all.

  I sit there at my table, sipping my beer as I process what’s happening and how I feel about it. I’m not jealous. I’m not. I’m pissed off. Why the fuck did I give her tips? I charge good money for that shit. Hell, I made Katie sign a six-week contract and I haven’t even given her one tip yet.

  And yet Miss My Father Owns This Town is practically giving them away to every wandering eye in the whole place.

  And that’s a lot of wandering eyes. All the employees know who she is by now. Britt is chatting them up like they are old friends, probably taking notes.

  There it is again. Holy fuck, Tiffy just licked her lips and practically winked at that guy. And Britt saw the whole thing as she set down a dainty cup of chocolate mousse in front of two-timing Preston.

  Hell the fuck no. I never let my clients work my magic here at the casino. Otherwise I might lose business. Hell, I’ve helped more than one cocktail waitress hook a rich dude over the past nine months. They paid dearly for it. And signed a NDA. Trade secrets are trade secrets. And I have spent years coming up with my methods. I’m not gonna let her get away with practicing them on this asshole for everyone to see.

  I push away from the barstool, straighten my t-shirt, and walk over to ask her just what the fuck she thinks she’s doing.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Do you want some?” I ask Cole, spooning out some chocolate mousse from the little dish they serve it in here. “It’s so good.” I pop the spoon in my mouth, savor the taste—which is not that good, but I’m working it—and then lick my lips and trace a fingertip daintily over a small spot of misplaced chocolate.

  His eyes are trained on my mouth, just like Fletcher said they’d be. Damn, he was right about all of it. Cole has been responding to every trick. Not in an obvious way, of course. He’s reserved. And you don’t go from little sister to sexy girlfriend in one thirty-minute business lunch.

  “Uh… ah… no, thanks, Tiffy.” But he smiles warmly at me, then his gaze darts back down to my lips as I give them one last swipe with my tongue. “So the account in Reno is good. I took care of that little issue. But”—he smiles and shakes his head—“we’re a big corporation. And San Francisco is having issues with the new merger. Your father called me while I was in Reno and filled me in. He might need us to go back there and lend a hand.”

  Shit. I’m just getting started here with Fletcher’s tips. If we go back to San Francisco, then we go back to our old life. Cole will never start seeing me in a new light if my father is there running interference. My father isn’t exactly a jerk to my boyfriends—when I have one—but he’s one of those overprotective types. He’s always warned me about people who will like me for my money and not myself.

  Cole is wealthy. He’s from a very rich family with old money, like us. So Cole wouldn’t be an issue in that department. But my father sees Cole as a family member. He’s never hinted that we’d make a good couple. So it’s much better to make this change away from home.

  “Can’t we do it remotely? I mean, a video call is pretty much the same thing as being there.”

  “Maybe,” Cole says.

  My optimism soars.

  And then I see him.

  Fletcher Novak is walking this way.

  Shit. He’s got a look on his face that I can’t exactly read because I don’t know him that well, but it doesn’t look happy.

  “Miss Preston,” he says. Cole’s back is to him as he approaches, so Cole has to turn in his seat. “Nice to see you again. You’re positively glowing today. What happened to make you so happy?”

  “Ah…” I laugh and dart my eyes to Cole. “Well, I’m just happy to be having lunch with my favorite co-worker.” I beam a smile at Cole.

  “Can we help you with something?” Cole asks with a hint of suspicion in his voice. “I mean, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to socialize, Mr. Novak. I’m sure you can understand after your allegations last night.”

  Oh, shit. Fletcher’s got a weird look on his face. Like he’s about to say something I might not like.

  “Tiffy and I worked—”

  “Fletcher?” All our heads turn to a blonde girl as she grabs Fletcher by the arm and spins him around. She’s seething mad. Her lips are pressed tightly together and she’s clenching her jaw. “I called your room earlier, but they said you weren’t there.”

  “Ummm…” Fletcher looks at me and for a second I think he might actually tell her where he was. “I didn’t get the message.”

  “You lying piece of shit. I was watching the girl at the front desk when she called up to your room after I waited around for an hour to see if you’d show your pathetic face.”

  “Look, ah�
��” Fletcher stops short, like he’s about to say her name but he doesn’t remember it.

  “Lisa,” she spits out. “Lisa! How could you not remember me? You fucked me—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cole interjects, standing up from his chair. “Miss… Lisa?” He drops his voice and hopes she will do the same. “Is there a problem here?”

  But Lisa doesn’t answer him. She slaps Fletcher across the face so hard it makes a crack. And even though there are probably fifty people in this bar, it goes silent and everyone looks at us.

  Fletcher doesn’t even flinch. He just stares at me.

  “Lisa Watkins. That’s who I am. One of Novak’s many, many, many one-night stands. And who might you be?” Her words snap out of her mouth, and Cole actually withdraws a fraction, thinking she might slap him next.

  “I’m the general manager of this hotel, Miss Watkins. And if you’ve got a problem with one of our employees, then you can talk to me about it. But you may not assault him. We can talk privately if you like.” Cole reaches for Lisa’s arm, but she sidesteps him and puts her hands on her hips.

  “I’m not going anywhere. And neither are they.” She points to a group of girls standing off to the right with the same pissed-off expression on their faces.

  “Oh, fuck,” Fletcher mumbles under his breath.

  “Do you know them?” Cole asks Fletcher.

  “Know them!” Irate Lisa exclaims. “He’s fucked them all too! He’s nothing but a man whore, Mr. General Manager. And he’s your employee. And I’m gonna make sure everyone knows that this show is—”

  “OK,” I say, standing up and interrupting her. “Miss Watkins, I’m Tiffy Preston, the owner”—which is not really a lie—“of this hotel. And I’m going to have to ask you to come make your complaints in private. We’re not going to have a scene here in the restaurant. You’re not going to assault my employee. And if you try either of those things again, I’ll call the police and have security hold you until they come.”