by Alexa Davis
I helped Dad with the dishes and by the time the kitchen was cleaned up, Michaela had arrived with the flapper dress and an overnight bag full of make-up in tow. Reluctantly, I got ready for the party, secretly wishing that I was dressing for a date with Ethan Grant, Esq.
CHAPTER THREE
NICK
Charlie had given me Saturday off. I spent it at home hibernating and almost didn’t even answer Ethan’s call that afternoon. After I did, I wished that I hadn’t.
“Dad wants us at the house for dinner at seven.”
“It’s two in the afternoon on a Saturday. What makes him think I don’t already have plans?”
“You know Dad; he doesn’t care. He just said to tell you to be there.”
“Shit. Are you going?”
He laughed. “Do I ever say no to the old man?”
“You should every once in a while. We both should, and then he’d stop acting like he’s the king of the fucking world.”
“I doubt it. He’d just have us taken to the gallows,” he said with a macabre laugh.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Have no idea. He won’t tell us until he’s ready, so I didn’t bother to press for information.”
“Shit,” I said again. “Okay, fine, I’ll be there.”
“You have to cancel any big plans?”
“Nope. I was going to spend a quiet evening at home with a pizza and a six pack of beer.”
He laughed. “No, really.”
“Seriously. I’m sick of all this party stuff. Maybe I’m growing up.” He laughed again. “Gee, thanks for the support, bro.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just hard to picture you home alone on a Saturday night. When did you decide to become a hermit?”
“I’m not being a hermit. I’m just tired of all of it. Man, have you ever been to Martin’s house?”
Cracking up now, Ethan said, “He told you about Reyna and got to you, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, I guess…a little bit. I mean, look at him, man. He’s seventy years old, and what does he have to show for it? He should at least have grown kids to spend the holidays with, right?”
“So, you want kids now?”
“No, man… I don’t know, maybe, someday. I just don’t want to end up a washed-up, old fighter all alone with nothing but regrets.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. My little brother is growing up.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He laughed. “I’ll see you at seven.”
“Ish,” I said.
“Do you have to piss him off from the get go?”
“Yeah, I kind of really do.”
I ended the call and that ended my pleasant afternoon. For the rest of the day, all I could think about was what the hell Dad was summoning us for. He acted like we were supposed to be at his beck and call now after he hadn’t been there for most of our lives, and it pissed me off.
At six, I showered and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Dad and Ethan would both wear a suit like they were going to a damned party and not a family dinner, but I didn’t give a shit. I wasn’t dressing up just to please him. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t doing anything just to please him any longer.
At six forty, I was getting ready to walk out of the house when the phone rang. If I cared about being on time, I would have let it go to voice mail. It was only Jonah, my best friend and another fighter in the MMA league I fought in. But since I could care less about being on time, I answered it.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Party at Circus Circus tonight,” he said.
“Nah, man, I have to have dinner with the old man.”
“Come afterwards; we’ll be there all night.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. I’m training in the morning.”
“So? When has that ever stopped you?”
“You’ve met Charlie, right?” Jonah had recently come over to Charlie’s gym. He didn’t train with Charlie, but he was around enough to know how he was.
Jonah laughed. “Since when do you take orders?”
“Since I want to be heavyweight champion. I gotta get going. The King of Las Vegas is waiting, and I doubt patiently.”
“Fine, but after he pisses you off, it wouldn’t hurt to come by for one drink. It’s a costume party for the UNLV football team. Lots of hot babes, cheerleaders…”
“I’ll talk to you later, Jonah.”
“Later tonight?”
“Bye, Jonah.”
“Give the old man my love.” I laughed at that. My dad hated Jonah.
“I’ll be sure and do that.” I left the house finally at five after seven. By the time I got across town nearly to Henderson, where Dad’s ridiculously big ass house sat on the side of a hill, it was almost seven forty-five. I walked into the formal dining room and between my clothes and my tardiness, I had two strikes already against me.
Dad and Ethan were already seated at the table. “Hi. Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”
Dad raised an eyebrow and gestured at my seat. Ethan was smirking, the asshole. I sat down and there was nothing but silence as my father’s maid rushed to start serving the meal. She brought out a silver cart with our salads and then one of the kitchen helpers, a younger girl named Kris, came out with pitchers with of iced tea and water.
She completely avoided eye-contact with me. It was a perfect example of why wild sex with one of the staff in the library during one of Dad’s charity dinners was not a good idea.
After the help was gone, Dad looked at me and said, “The masquerade ball will be held here on October 30th. It’s a fundraiser for the Arts Administration, and I expect you to both be here.” Before either of us said anything, he looked at me and continued, “And, I expect you to be dressed appropriately. If you can’t afford a decent suit, you can go see my tailor and put it on my bill.”
I let out a snort. “I have plenty of money, Dad, but thanks.”
He ran his eyes across my attire again and said, “That wasn’t apparent.” He’s such an ass.
“I’ll see if I can make it,” I said.
“No, Nicholas, you will make it. This is not a request.”
I dropped my fork, and it clattered to my plate. I could see Ethan trying to get my attention out of the corner of my eye. You would think confrontation wouldn’t bother an attorney so badly. “You’re giving us like a week’s notice? What if we had other plans?”
He opened his mouth and I held up my palm. I saw Ethan wince out of the corner of my eye as I went on, “Dad, in case you missed it – and I can see how you may have – your sons are both grown men. You cannot order a twenty-six and twenty-four-year-old man to do something. Therefore, everything is a request.”
He narrowed his blue eyes at me and put down his own fork before saying, “You live in a house that I paid for. That truck you drive so proudly around Las Vegas was also paid for by me.”
“I bought my own house and truck…”
“With what, Nicholas?” Fucker.
“With my trust fund. But I’ve made enough money since then on my fights that I could pay you back double for both.”
“You could, but you haven’t. So, that means Grant Realty is responsible for your cushy life. Which means you have a responsibility in return to occasionally show up when the company puts on a public event.”
I rubbed my temples with my fingers and finally looked at Ethan. “It doesn’t bother you to be ordered to do something, rather than asked, like a normal father would do?”
I could tell by the look he gave me that I’d catch hell later for dragging him into it. “I would prefer to be asked,” he said. “But, since the company and Dad as the CEO of that company happened to pay for my law school fees, the BMW I drive, and the apartment I live in, I agree with what he said about having some responsibility in return.”
I chuckled. It was a chicken-shit way to agree with us both. “Fine, Dad. I’ll be there. But I’d like you to do something in return for me.”
He gave
me one of his arrogant looks and raised both eyebrows before saying, “And, pray tell, what is that, Nicholas?”
“December first is my big fight. I’d like to see my father there in the front row, rooting for me.” Dad had never been to a single one of my fights. I doubt that he even advertises that we’re related.
“You know that’s not my thing, Nicholas.”
“And black tie events are not my thing, Dad.”
He sighed. “Fine. I can’t for the life of me understand why you always have to be so difficult.”
I shrugged. “I learned from the best,” I told him as I picked up my fork again.
Ethan did what he does best and changed the subject to talk about a case he was working on. I held back the sarcasm and insults whenever the old man spoke for the rest of dinner. After dessert was served and eaten, he told us to join him in the study for a drink. I acted like it was a request and politely declined.
After saying goodnight to Ethan and a pissed off father, I left the mansion and headed for the strip. I sent a text message and got a reply just as I drove up in front of the luxury apartment building on Paradise Way. The valet took the truck and the doorman greeted me warmly as he let me inside. I took the elevator up to the penthouse and rang the buzzer. A few seconds passed before a smooth female voice said, “Yes?”
“It’s Nick.”
“One minute, Nicky.”
Pamela was the only person who ever called me Nicky. I hated it and the truth was I hated almost everything about her besides the fact that she’s been my favorite booty call for the past five years.
Her father was on the board of directors of my dad’s company, and they came from old money. Their kind of rich made ours look like poverty. Pamela shopped, partied, and fucked. She was picky about who she fucked, however, and I happened to be one of her favorites. We used each other and it was a relationship that worked out on both ends. No strings, no feelings, no babies…perfect for the guy I no longer wanted to be. But after dinner with Dad, I had to have some kind of release.
When she pulled open the door dressed in a short, satin robe open down the front and something small and lacy underneath it, I didn’t waste any time on words. I fisted her long, blonde hair in both hands and began conducting an all-out assault on her mouth.
Kicking the door shut, I began walking her backwards down the hall. As soon as we reached the bedroom, we both began stripping off our clothes. I pushed her down to her knees and held her by her hair again as I pressed my cock to her lips. It was only at half-mast, but I knew that would change quickly.
She opened her lips, and I sucked in a breath as she sucked me into that warm, moist tunnel. I was hard as a rock in no time with her ministrations of her lips, teeth, and tongue. She even gave my balls a few, soft sucks and licks. I held on tightly to her hair as she bobbed her head up and down on me. She was an expert at this.
I never let myself think about why she was so good. Usually when I was with Pam, I didn’t think at all. Pure, animal lust took over everything. I began to thrust my hips harder, fucking her mouth as she sucked me with a vacuum grip.
I increased my pace, and she increased hers, holding onto the cheeks of my ass now, pushing while I pulled, bobbing when I thrust. I wanted to just come in her mouth and be done with it, but I knew even with Pamela I couldn’t be that much of an ass. I pulled out and reached down for her dime-sized pink nipples and tweaked them before telling her, “Get up on the bed, on your knees.”
She didn’t argue or ask questions. She got on the bed on her belly, and I reached underneath her and pressed my palm into her flat stomach to pull her up so her ass was in the air. I reached down between her legs and felt that sopping-wet pussy with my fingers. I played along her slit for a few seconds before finally dipping my fingers up inside of her.
She was moaning as I fingered her and just about the time she sounded like she was about to come, I pulled my fingers out. I almost smiled at her whimpering protests. I left her there on the bed while I found my jeans and fished a condom out of my wallet. Once I had it on, I went back over and, still standing at the edge of the gigantic bed, I reached underneath her and grabbed two handfuls of her full breasts and held onto them as I drove my cock deep up into her.
I started moving in and out, listening to her whimper and moan out my name. Her pussy felt good wrapped tightly around my cock, and she looked good with her face down in the comforter and her round ass in the air. I wasn’t going to last long.
I let go of her tits and slid one hand down her body until I found her swollen clit. I began rubbing it and rolling it between my fingers. She was getting loud with her moans and after a few minutes of me driving into her hard and fast, she screamed. As she was coming, I grabbed her hips with both hands and pulled her tightly up against me while I reached my peak. I grunted loudly and rocked into her until I’d emptied over a week’s worth of come into the rubber inside of her.
Finally, all of the tension I’d been feeling was gone, just like that.
CHAPTER FOUR
KARLI
I spent two hours at that miserable party Michaela dragged me to on Saturday night before I couldn’t take another minute of it. She was already almost drunk when I left, but Trent was there with her, so I knew she would be okay.
I took a cab home and was less than enthusiastic to find Dad had invited the son of one of his old fighter friends to stay with us…indefinitely. He was a nice enough guy, but I wasn’t looking forward to living with two messy men, and I also knew this guy had had a big crush on me when he was eleven and I was fourteen. Kevin Andrews was painfully shy at the time, but had somehow managed to tell me how he felt. I was worried it would be awkward living in the same house. That was eight years ago, but I still felt bad when I thought about how disappointed he was when I told him I didn’t feel the same. Maybe I was more worried about myself being uncomfortable than him.
But, Dad hadn’t bothered to ask my opinion, so I’d just have to deal with it. As it turned out, he had matured quite a bit, which wasn’t too surprising since he was nineteen now.
He and I actually had a pleasant conversation about his life in Philly and underground fighting. He was cute when he talked about it. His face lit up and I could almost see a fire burning in him when he talked about wanting to be good enough to fight for a title someday.
I finally couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I said goodnight and was showered and tucked into bed by midnight. I regretted the time I lost on my studying, but I was happy that I got at least six hours sleep before I had to get up and go to the gym.
By six a.m., I was on my hands and knees using a brush and a bucket of diluted bleach to scrub the mats in the octagon in a cut off pair of sweatpants and a tank top, with sweat rolling down into my eyes. I wished, not for the first time, that Dad and I had stayed in Minnesota after he retired. I missed the seasons and even the snow sometimes, especially around the holidays…or when I was sweating my ass off in the heat in the middle of October.
I’d been in Vegas for almost ten years already and I still hadn’t acclimated. I sat up to wipe a stray piece of hair out of my eyes as I looked at the big clock hanging on the wall. It was almost seven, which meant Dad would be here soon and the sweaty boys would soon follow. I wanted to be done with this before they got here. I started to bend back over when I heard the door open. I looked back up and I actually felt my head spin – just a little.
The man from the billboards walked in. Nick Storelli, in the flesh…and what hot, sexy flesh it was.
He was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. His arms and legs both flexed and rippled as he walked. His dark hair was longish, touching the collar of his shirt in the back and ending in little ringlets. His eyes were the color of the sky right before a storm hits, a dark blue, and as much as I didn’t want to feed some big, arrogant fighter’s ego, I felt like I couldn’t look away.
A slow smile spread across his face when he noticed me and two, deep slashes appe
ared along the sides of his face. He wasn’t just gorgeous; he was like a fucking God and that one little smile made my panties damp. Damn.
“Hello.” He stopped right outside the cage and the subtle, woodsy scent of him wafted through the mesh and jockeyed with the bleach for top spot in my senses. I had to concentrate as I opened my mouth and said,
“Hi.”
“I’m Nick.” I knew that, of course. It was hard to live in Vegas and not know that. I smiled and said,
“Hi; I’m Karli.”
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Such a line, but of course this guy could probably be a mute and still have women lining up.
“Thanks,” I said, hopefully dismissively, and I returned back to my work. I could still feel him hovering over me, and as big as this guy was, if we’d been outside, he probably would have blocked out the sun.
“You work here?”
I gave him a “Brilliant deduction, Sherlock” look before saying, “No, I just sneak in and scrub the mats on Sunday mornings. It’s what I live for.”
He laughed. Either he missed my sarcasm or he appreciated how stupid his question was; I was not sure which. I bent back down in hopes of discouraging more conversation and he said, “Is Charlie here yet?”
I blew a piece of hair out of my eyes as I looked up again. My neck was going to be sore tomorrow morning. “Not yet, but he should be in soon.”
“Hopefully he got some last night,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
He grinned and winked at me. “It always puts me in a better mood. No offense, but your boss can be kind of a dick.”
“Really? I’ve never noticed.”
“You’re kidding? Maybe he’s nicer to you,” he ran his eyes over my body and said, “For obvious reasons.”