His Redheaded Sl*t

by Vivian Ward

  “Will that be all?”

  Glancing around my empty room, I think about how I could order room service for two if she were here with me. “Yes, that’s all please.”

  “And which room is this?” She asks.

  “The presidential suite.”

  “Yes, sir, we’ll have it up in about twenty minutes. Have a good day!” She says, a little too cheerful.

  I don’t have quite enough time to shower and shave before room service arrives but I start preparing my things. Today, I’m on a mission to win that little fox over.

  Unzipping my garment bag, I take out a pair of pressed black slacks along with a crisp royal blue dress shirt and set them out to wear for the day. Looking at the clock, I see I still have a few more moments before breakfast will arrive and root through my overnight bag for my shaving kit. Tossing it on the bathroom counter, I hear a knock at the door.

  “Good morning,” an older woman greets me. “Where would you like your breakfast?”

  “Next to the desk, please.”

  She pushes the cart near the desk and asks if I need anything else.

  “No, thank you,” I had her a twenty. “Have a nice day.”

  While I eat breakfast, I decide to do a little search of Scarlett’s social media. I’m eager to win her over and, apparently, just asking her for a date isn’t doing the trick. Most women are tripping over their feet to get a date with a wealthy oil tycoon, but you grow tired of those women very quickly. It’s always the same.

  They pretend to be interested in you so you’ll take them to fancy dinners, buy them nice gifts, and take them on expensive vacations but the minute you put the breaks on, you see their true colors. I’ve had women try to steal from me, and I’ve even had a few gold diggers try to make up stories about me sexually assaulting them—none of which were true by any means—in attempt to get me to hand over hush money so they wouldn’t move public with their story, but I don’t scare easily. What those fools never realized is that there are surveillance cameras nearly everywhere—even in my home, except the bathroom and bedroom, of course—and I had cold, hard proof they were liars.

  Scarlett is so genuine and down to earth. She’s also not interested in my money, even after I tested the waters by telling her that I was the owner of Anderson Oil Company and that’s just one of the many things that sets her apart from all the rest.

  She’s wrong if she thinks I’m leaving without a date. I won’t give up on her that easily.

  6

  Scarlett

  “Oh my God!” My friend Peach cups her hand over her mouth while Lucy fills her in on all the details about what happened last night.

  Apparently, Aaron and I have been the talk of the LBD among all of the girls. Sometimes I wish Peach and Lucy never met because they can frustrate me to no end. Between Lucy always trying to set me up on dates and Peach trying to become a wedding planner, those two will have me hitched to some stranger faster than I can blink my eyes. Thank God that Tempest is always on my side and tells them to stop it.

  “Scarlett,” Peach says to me. “What are you going to do? You’ve got to give this guy a chance! Tall, dark, handsome and rich? You’d be crazy not to! Do it for me, for us,” she pouts her lips as she glances between Lucy and me.

  For fuck’s sake. I know they’re right and I hate it. Besides, what could one night hurt? He is hot, he is sexy, and he is charming—in his own unique way. Aaron’s not like the other businessmen who come in here. He laughs, talks, and is fun to be around. The other guys are either classless pervs who think you’ll sleep with them just because they have money—like you owe it to them—or they bark orders at you like they own you. Sure, asking me to give him one night was probably a little inappropriate, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t damn hard to say no. I want him so bad. My ovaries feel like they’re going to explode anytime I’m around the man, and I can practically hear them whispering his name. When I saw that gleam in his eyes as he towered over me while I was pushed up against the wall, I know that he was undressing me—stripping me bare—as we stood in the hall. The worst part is I’m not sure what I like best: the part where I know he’s got a dirty side or the fact that I want to see more of it.

  Just give me one night. That phrase keeps echoing in my mind, like it’s permanently etched there.

  I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m never like this over a guy, but he’s so hard to resist. Glancing over at Lucy and Peach, I shake my head.

  “All right, if he comes back and asks, I’ll give him a chance.” I try to make it sound like I’m not all that interested and that I’m doing it for them but the truth is, I’m kind of glad they’re rooting for him and pushing me into his arms.

  He seems like the type of man who needs order and control, but so do I. It’s what makes me so sassy and hard-headed; although, I do like to hand the reigns over every once in a while. When it comes to sex, I want to be dominated and give the man all the power. Submitting is my way of giving myself to someone—and I’d like to submit to him. Yes, even if it’s just for a night. It could be a lot of fun.

  I picture his strong arms grabbing hold of me, pulling me onto his lap just seconds before sliding his leather belt from his waist. Whack! Whack! Whack! The sounds whip through my mind, and I can almost hear the belt cutting the air before it lands on my bottom, stinging my delicate skin. I’d jump just a bit, my breasts too heavy to fully lift off his lap as I jolted.

  “Scarlett,” I hear him say. “Oh, Scarlett,” he says again.

  The girls are staring at me in shock, and that’s when I realize that he’s here, standing behind me, calling my name! My mouth drops open as my cheeks heat up. How dare he interrupt my little fantasy and catch me in the act of imagining him doing naughty things to me!

  “Oh, um, hi,” I manage to sputter. My cheeks probably match my hair, and I wish the floor would swallow me up and make me disappear.

  His eyes look deeply into mine, and a grin spreads across his face.

  Can he tell what I was thinking? Does he know?

  “Been thinking about me lately?” He asks, his tone casual. His deep, smooth voice sends my ovaries into overdrive once again.

  Damn it! He DOES KNOW. How does he know?

  Laughing, I flip my hair over my shoulder and shake my head. “Wouldn’t you like to think so?” I retort.

  We barely know each other, yet he already knows me so well. He lowers his head, maintaining his gaze. “Did you know that you always answer my question with a question? Why is that?”

  “I do?”

  Oh, I just did it again.

  “Yes, you do,” he smiles.

  Peach rushes to my side and asks, “Can we get you a drink?”

  “No, I won’t be staying long.” He turns his attention back to me. “I’d like to take you out tonight, Scarlett.” I start to protest, but he continues. “There’s a ghost town—Calico—that we can go to with plenty to do.”

  “Wow!” I say. I know exactly what Calico is and have always wanted to go there. I’d heard about it shortly after moving to Vegas, but it’s in California, and I could never really find the time or money to go. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Peach and Lucy’s eyeballs are burning through me, telling me that I’d better say yes because that’s what I promised them.

  “Say you’ll come,” he steps forward, closing the distance between us. “And that we’ll have fun because I know we will.”

  “Hmm, the only problem is that I don’t get off work until nine tonight and I have to be back here at eleven in the morning.”

  “It’s okay, we’ll cover for you,” Peach interrupts. “Won’t we, Lucy?”

  “Absolutely,” she says after Peach elbows her in the ribs. “Can’t wait to come in two hours early tomorrow.”

  “Then it’s all settled,” he says, winking at my friends. I look back at them, and I swear all three of our ovaries are doing little flips. He’s so smooth.

  “Are you guys o
kay with me taking off a little early?” I ask. “I don’t want to put you out.”

  “No, it’s fine! Go ahead and go!”

  Tempest walks through the front door and sees all of us huddled at the counter and joins us. “Go where?” She asks, eyeing him like she could either rip his head off or adore him. She’s versatile like that.

  “I’m going to take your friend to Calico Ghost Town,” he says triumphantly.

  “Yeah?” She tilts her head. “Why are you taking her there?”

  “Tempest!” I say. I can’t believe she just asked him that. I love haunted places and all things ghost related, and I have this handsome man to take me. The same man that they all want to see me with.

  “I’m just asking a question. It’s an interesting choice,” she gives me a knowing eye before turning to him. “What made you pick that place?”

  He shrugs. “Just thought she’d enjoy it, but we need to get going soon.”

  “We’re going tonight?” I ask. “There’s no way we’ll make it in time. I thought we were going to go tomorrow, in the late morning before my shift.”

  “Nonsense, we’ll take my private jet. I’ll have us there in time for the last haunted tour of the evening, and then we can grab a bite to eat.”

  A private jet? Is he serious?

  All of the girls are staring at the two of us as we stand together in a crowded cluster awaiting my response. “S-sure,” I say, and I can literally hear each of the girls exhale the breath they’d all been holding. “Do I have time to get changed?”

  “You look great! You’re already wearing a little black dress, your hair is perfect, and your makeup looks flawless. What could you possibly slip in to?”

  Swoon. Could this guy be any more perfect?

  “Um, well, it’s just that the Calico has a western vibe to it and I feel a little overdressed. I have a pair of jeans and a top in my car.”

  He suddenly looks down at his business casual attire. “I guess I should probably get changed, too. I could lend you my room,” his eyebrows arch.

  The girls begin to giggle. “No, I can manage on my own. I’ll meet you in fifteen,” I say.

  As soon as he’s out of earshot the girls are all swooning around me, “Did he really offer to fly you to another state in his private jet?” Peach coos. “And he offered to let her undress in his room,” Tempest says in a naughty tone. We all burst into laughter.

  “Well, I did say that if he came back down here and asked me out again, I’d go. If this date sucks, I’m kicking all your asses,” I wave my finger.

  “Get out of here,” Tempest says. “You wouldn’t hurt a hair on our heads.”

  Ignoring everything, including my warning, Peach says, “Go grab your clothes and get changed! You’ve got a big date to go on.”

  Leave it to me to have a fancy businessman take me out on a date, yet I manage to get both of us into jeans instead of nice clothes, I think as I wiggle into my blue jeans. That’s okay; it’ll show me what Aaron Anderson is really made of beneath all those expensive labels he wears.

  7

  Aaron

  I knew that haunted ghost town would do the trick. Scarlett’s social media was filled with paranormal books, horror movies, and thrillers that she enjoys. Knowing that she’d like to go to Calico was a good guess on my part, and I’m glad it worked.

  I’m excited to see what she looks like in other clothes besides her little black dress—hot as it may be—because I want to know everything there is to know about her. I can already picture her in some tight yoga pants with a flowing blouse. Hell, she could wear a plastic garbage bag and look fantastic—though, I’d prefer her in nothing at all.

  Exiting my room, I hop on the elevator and press the lobby button. When I step onto the marble floor and look near the front door, I am in total awe.

  Scarlett’s long, crimson hair is floating around her shoulders, contrasting with the olive green top she’s wearing. Her faded blue jeans hug every curve of her body and look like they were painted on her. The tiny pockets on the back accentuate her ass and thighs, making me want to bury my head in them for the evening.

  “Ready?” I ask as I approach her. It’s only then that I realize how short she is. I’ve only seen her in the stilettos that she wears to work but standing beside her in her black strappy sandals is a whole different story. The ferocious lioness now looks like a fierce ankle biter as she only comes to my chest.

  When she turns to face me, I see the white pearl buttons of her olive colored top are unnecessarily unbuttoned a little lower than they should be, but I don’t mind. I like the view, so I keep my mouth shut and try not to stare.

  “You look amazing,” I say to her. “I didn’t realize you were so—,.”

  “Short?” She finishes my sentence. “I’m used to it,” she nods. “It’s one of the many reasons why I do like my job; I get to wear heels all day, so it makes me taller than I am.”

  We exit the hotel and get in my car. “What other reasons do you like your job?” I ask her.

  “My friends. I work with the greatest girls—even Mike, the bartender, is okay. Honestly, I only keep my job because of my co-workers. If it weren’t for Lucy, Peach, Tempest, Summer, and everyone else, I’d leave in a heartbeat.”

  Her voice sounds off; distant. “And why don’t you like your job?” I probe.

  A long sigh escapes her lips as we pull onto the roadway that leads to the airport where my jet is awaiting us. “Sometimes the customers are rude, sometimes the tips are shitty, and most of all, my boss is a pompous jack ass. I really can’t stand him.”

  “You don’t like Mr. Donatello?” It doesn’t surprise me that she hates him. I bet most of the ladies at the LBD despise the man.

  “No,” she shakes her head. I catch a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye as I pull onto the stretch and see my private jet waiting. “He talks to me like I’m trash or something. It’s always so demeaning, and I don’t like the things he says to my friends or me. It’s very disrespectful.”

  I make a mental note to pull some strings to make sure the asshole gets what he deserves. How anyone could be demeaning or disrespectful to Scarlett or any of the girls that work there is beyond me, and I won’t have it. But right now, I’m going to focus on the gorgeous woman who is a little too short, a little too fun, and a little too sassy.

  She’s perfect in every way.

  “We’re here,” I say, nodding toward the plane, ignoring her comment because I don’t want her to know that I plan on taking care of the asshole who makes her life miserable. I know Scarlett, and she’s the girl who would try and stop me because jerks like him control whether or not she can pay her bills or feed herself and even though he doesn’t treat her well, she’d feel bad if he lost his job or something because she told.

  “Mr. Anderson,” Reggie greets us. “The jet has been fueled, and the fridge has been fully stocked. Is there anything else I can get you before takeoff, sir?”

  “Thank you, Reggie,” I say, leading Scarlett up the steps to the plane. “You’ve done a fine job. That’ll be all.”

  With a quick nod, he steps out of sight and within a few moments Scarlett, and I are admiring the lights of Vegas from a thousand miles in the sky. “Wow! It’s beautiful,” she gasps.

  “Isn’t it? It’s one of my favorite views,” I keep my eyes locked on her. “But I’ve seen far prettier things than that.”

  Turning her head toward me, she cocks her head and asks, “Really? Like what?”

  Arching my brows, I nod at her. “You, for starters.” She giggles and blushes, just as I knew she would. She tries to pretend she’s this little firecracker inside the club while she’s working but when we’re alone, she lets her hair down, and I can see her for who she is. “I mean it, Scarlett. You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Tell me, how are you single?”

  She shrugs. “It’s not that hard to believe, is it? I mean, I’m just your ordinary girl from the Midwest; I’m no
thing special.”

  I shake my head, disagreeing with her because she doesn’t get it. “No, you’re wrong. You’re everything that’s special. Don’t ever let me hear you say that about yourself again.” My tone is a little more clipped and assertive than I’d meant it to be, but I can’t help it. It’s true, and I won’t allow her to consider herself ordinary or not special. She’s a unique woman, and it’s my job to tell her that.

  Before long, we’re at Calico and Scarlett’s having the time of her life. I’m not very interested in the ghost tour or the Old West shops that they have, but I could watch her eyes light up like this every night. I’d take her to see everything she’s never seen before if it meant getting to watch her face light up the way it does. When the tour is over, we grab a bite at a local burger place, and I listen to her talk about how amazing everything was. She has a knack for older things and mysteries, and it makes me fall for her a little more.

  On our flight back to Vegas, we watch the lights of the city from the windows as we make our descent through the soft, pillowy clouds. “I had a fantastic night,” she says, still smiling.

  “Me too,” I say. “It was perfect.”

  When we’re driving down the highway, I realize that we have to go back to the hotel because that’s where her car is parked. “You know, you could give me that one night that I asked for,” I wink at her. “That is if you want to.” I’m only half joking. I’d love to have her for a night but I don’t want to make her do anything she doesn’t feel comfortable doing, and I don’t want her to think she owes me for taking her out.

  Smiling at me she says, “I’ve thought about that.” Bubbly laughter pours out of her. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m never like this, but when I’m with you, I feel so different.”

  “That’s a good thing,” I assure her. “Tell you what, how about you come up for a nightcap and we see where things go from there. No pressure.”