by Marie Astor
“Enjoy yourself, Brad. You have to let loose once in a while. Of course, I trust that you won’t engage in any reckless gambling,” Langman added judiciously.
Brad was the picture of pure innocence. “I wouldn’t think of it, sir. Gambling is opium for the feeble-minded,” he spewed out the most righteous-sounding bromide that came to mind. He certainly didn’t consider himself to be feeble-minded, and he enjoyed taking a few turns at poker and craps now and then.
Langman chuckled. “I trust you don’t need any further warning from me. So enjoy yourself and relax. I hear they’ve got marvelous accommodations at Citron.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. Now if you’ll excuse me, with the jetlag and the time change, it’s way past my bedtime. Oh, I almost forgot, Wright is starting two weeks from now. I’ll ask my secretary to put a meeting with him on your calendar.”
“Thank you, sir.”
As soon as Brad was back in his suite his hands clenched into fists. He sank onto a couch and sat there in silent rage, gritting his teeth. He wanted to scream, to smash the entire room with the anger that was burning inside him, but he knew better than that so he forced himself into immobility. Wright was starting in two weeks, which meant that negotiations to hire him had been going on for several months at least. No executive of Wright’s level accepted a job on a whim—Wright had to have given his employer ample notice to take the job with Orion. All that time Langman plotted under Brad’s nose, and Brad had been stupid enough not to see it. The most important thing to do now was to remain calm. He needed to think rationally about what to do next. He had invested a lot of time and effort into his career at Orion and he wasn’t going to let it slip away.
Chapter 2
When Brad arrived to Citron Hotel the next day, his breath was taken away by the opulence that surrounded him. Las Vegas was known for its luxury, but Macau put it to shame.
Before he even had a chance to enter the lobby he was offered a glass of champagne and a jasmine-scented wet towel to refresh his face. His luggage had been whisked away by a bellboy who was so efficient that he seemed invisible. A smiling host ushered Brad inside. The lobby floor was covered with polished marble and the walls were painted the color of shimmering gold.
A stunning girl greeted him at the reception desk. She was beautiful enough to be a model. “Good afternoon, Mr. Weiss. We have our top floor executive suite reserved for you,” the girl informed him with a bright smile.
“Oh, I believe there might be some mistake.” Brad pulled out his reservation. Frugal as always, Langman had put him in a business suite. It was a nice enough room but was nowhere near the luxury that the executive suite offered. He slid the reservation across the desk.
The girl smiled in acknowledgement. “There’s no mistake, sir. We are happy to offer you an upgrade free of charge, unless of course you’d rather keep your original accommodation.”
“Oh, no. That’d be fine,” Brad was quick to respond. He loved free upgrades.
“Excellent. Your luggage will be brought up shortly. It will be my pleasure to personally escort you to your suite.”
“Thank you.” Brad nodded, flattered by the attention. News travelled fast. Orion was becoming an international player and by extension, as its COO Brad shared its limelight.
The girl’s movements were fluid and graceful, as she left her post at her desk and joined Brad by his side. “This way, please.” She motioned at the elevator bank.
Brad’s suite was on the top floor, but the elevator ride was quick and seamless without even so much as clogging his ears.
“This way, please.” The girl gestured for him to follow her.
As Brad walked down the soft-carpeted hallway decorated with oriental motifs, he admired the girl’s stunning figure. She wore a uniform that consisted of a navy-blue pencil skirt and jacket, but even this strict attire couldn’t conceal the sexiness contained in that gorgeous body of hers. For a moment Brad toyed with the idea of asking for her number, but then rejected it. He wouldn’t want his boss to hear about him getting overly cozy with the hotel staff.
“After you, sir,” the girl said after she flung open the door.
The suite was gigantic in size and took up half of the floor. A spacious foyer led to a huge living room. The suite was on the one hundred and twentieth floor with a magnificent view of the sky. Brad looked down through the crystal clear window. The streets below seemed like cartoon drawings and the people walking on them looked like specks. He felt his spirits lift. Yes, he had suffered a momentary setback, but he was still, literally and figuratively speaking, way higher up than the majority of people. He was Brad Weiss, COO of Orion Inc., and he wasn’t even thirty-five yet. The sky was the limit to what he could achieve.
“Mr. Weiss, sir? Is there anything else I could do for you?” the girl asked him.
Brad looked up. He was tempted to kiss those pouty lips of hers and toss her on the huge, satin sheet-covered bed he could see through the bedroom doorway, but he held himself in check. There would be plenty of time for fun later. He needed to get his bearings first. “That will be all for now, thank you.”
“I will be downstairs if you need me.” She sounded disappointed, or maybe it was just his imagination.
After the girl left, Brad took off his clothes and headed for the shower. The bathroom matched the rest of the accommodations in its opulence. The marble floor was heated and the warmth sent a soothing sensation through the soles of his feet. In addition to a shower that had so many gadgets it looked like a space shuttle, there was a giant sunken bathtub that could easily house four people. Brad had a mental image of himself in a bubble bath surrounded by gorgeous women tending to his every fancy. Too bad his favorite escort service was in Las Vegas, but he was sure that he’d find a comparable replacement here. Not that he needed to pay for dates. His good looks and affluent income allowed him to have his pick of women, but he saw no need to commit to any of them. He worked eighty hour weeks and he loved it, and he liked to play hard to unwind. He would have to be very discreet though. His boss had come to think of him as some kind of hybrid between a monk and dedicated workaholic, and Brad wasn’t about to disprove him. First things first, he needed a shower.
By the time Brad emerged from the shower his luggage had been brought up. He’d been worried that he might need to get his suit pressed but was glad to see that his clothes had made it through the journey uncreased. He changed into a fresh shirt, suit, and tie and headed downstairs. He could feel blood pounding in his ears with the anticipation. He loved a good game.
Citron Casino was just as extravagant as Citron Hotel. The entrance to the casino was marked with two real-sized golden elephant statues encrusted with jewels. The elephants’ trunks were raised and entwined, creating an arch for visitors to pass through. Brad briefly pressed his palm against one of the trunks—he remembered reading somewhere that a statue of an elephant with a raised trunk brought good luck. He walked slowly through the game floor, deliberating his choices.
There were all the usual suspects: roulette, craps, poker. Gambling machines of great variety lined the edges of the game floor toward the back of the room. Even in a casino as upscale as Citron, the gaming machines were teeming with people. Brad scoffed at the tourists feverishly pulling the levers and punching at the buttons, their faces desperate with greed and hope. Maybe, just maybe, they were going to get lucky and win. He shook his head. Anyone who came into a casino hoping to win was destined to lose. Brad loved gambling, but he never did it for the money. He believed the reason he generally won was that he never hoped to win. He gambled to feel alive, to allow himself to feel the intense sensation of living on the edge. But he was always careful to keep track of his balance and walk away gracefully rather than tumble off. Brad directed his attention to the tables with higher stakes, which were located toward the far end of the casino. There, the stakes started with one hundred dollars and up. He could see a set of doors separating
the floor to what he guessed to be an exclusive section for high rollers where the stakes were thousands of dollars.
As much as it would have stroked his ego to cross the partition, he stayed clear of the high roller area, as he always did whenever he gambled. Instead he chose to start with a craps table with one hundred dollar stakes. He usually liked having female company at the gaming table. Having female admiration, even if it was paid for, made him feel more alive. He’d have a few rounds and then direct his attention to his favorite escort girl, whoever happened to be his favorite of the month. For now, however, he would just have to content himself with the company of the dealer.
***
Brad woke up with a splitting headache. At first he couldn’t remember where he was or how he’d gotten there. Then it all came back in a flash: the gambling and the crazy, decadent sex. He tried to raise himself on his elbow to see what time it was only to fall on his back with a groan. Literally every muscle in his body ached, but it was a pleasant ache. He stared at the ceiling with a grin on his face, reliving the events of last night.
The evening had started with him having a few rounds at a craps table. He began with his usual conservative bid amount, but he kept winning so he began to increase his bets with each round. He’d been lucky, unusually lucky, winning two hundred thousand dollars. Even though he didn’t gamble to win, he’d been ecstatic. He felt on top of the world, taking his winning streak as a sign that he was going to come out on top in other parts of his life, namely his job. When he got back to Orion, he was going to show that arrogant jerk Steven Wright who was in charge. Even a CEO could be ousted. But that would come later—his time in Macau was to relax and clear his mind. He was about to discretely inquire with the dealer about a contact for an upscale escort service, when he was approached by a man in a sleek designer suit. “The manager of Citron Casino would be delighted to welcome you to our high rollers room. You have a complimentary credit of five hundred thousand dollars on your account.” Brad had always wanted to check out a high rollers’ table, and now he was being offered free money—lots of free money—to do so. Who could turn down an offer like that? Should his winning streak change, he’d simply bail out once the complimentary credit was gone.
The high rollers’ room was incredibly quiet. There was padding everywhere—carpets on the floor and rich upholstery on the walls. Perhaps it was to drown out the cries from sore losers. Brad walked toward the craps table.
“The minimum bet is ten thousand dollars,” the dealer informed him.
Brad gulped. No, he thought, this is too crazy. With these kinds of stakes he could lose a ton of money in a flash. He was about to walk away when the door opened and a striking woman walked inside. Her features were perfectly chiseled and her green eyes were mesmerizing. Her body was a work of art—perfectly proportioned, it had the grace of a Roman statue. Her dress was exquisite and did everything to emphasize her curves; not that he cared much about her dress, but rather tearing it off of her. For a moment their eyes met, and it seemed to him that he saw desire blaze in her gaze.
The dealer waited respectfully, his face perfectly unreadable. A waiter appeared out of nowhere and placed a crystal, gold-rimmed glass before him. Inside was a bubbling liquid similar to champagne, but it tasted like nothing he’d ever had before. It was both sweet and sour in taste and prickled the insides of his mouth with tantalizing sensation. Brad took another long swallow, enjoying the drink immensely, but still intent on calling it a night. He was about to bow out when suddenly everything changed. He felt a burst of energy surge through his body, filling him with remarkable confidence. He felt as though he could take on the world. He was, after all, Brad Weiss. He placed a bet, then another. To his surprise he won. Calmly he accepted his winnings.
The woman who had been standing by the door raised an eyebrow. “May I join you?” she asked in a voice so sensual that Brad literally felt the hairs on his arms stand.
“By all means,” he answered.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “It looks like you’re good at this game.
“I think it’s more of a beginner’s luck.”
“You don’t bet like a beginner.”
He nodded. “I’m not. But this is my first time at a high roller table. Usually I hang out with the smaller fish.”
“There’s nothing small fish about you, Mr. Weiss.”
“Please, call me Brad—” he broke off. “How did you know my name?”
“I can read minds.”
“Tell me more about your unique skill.”
She laughed. “One doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know that Brad Weiss is the COO of Orion Inc.”
“Now you make me sound like a celebrity,” he said modestly.
“You are.”
“You’re being too kind.”
“I’m not being kind at all. Orion Inc. is all over the papers and so are you.”
“I’m merely a humble corporate servant,” he countered.
“Modesty—I like that in a man.”
“Since you know my name, I think it’s only fair that you tell me yours.”
“I thought you’d never ask. It’s Isabelle.”
He waited a moment for her last name, but she didn’t offer it, and to be frank he didn’t really care. He wanted to get her into bed, not fill out her passport application. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Isabelle.” He lifted her hand to his lips. He stole a glance at the low cut of her dress and felt himself growing hard.
“Are you going to place another bet, Brad?”
“Yes,” he hurried to answer. “Yes, I am.”
She took the dice from his hand and blew on it, her lips curving seductively. “For luck,” she murmured.
He kept placing his bets and he kept winning. It was hard to keep track of it all as he kept signing the tab, but the pile of chips in front of him kept growing so he knew he was doing all right. Isabelle made sure that there were fresh drinks in front of him, which he kept imbibing without paying much attention to the quantities.
Brad could hardly believe his windfall. Judging by the pile of chips he’d accumulated, he was up a total of two million dollars. He’d never dreamed of that much money. His position with Orion paid well, but his savings weren’t anywhere near that amount. He’d been able to squirrel away a million dollars and he’d been very proud of that, but now he felt drunk with money.
“Will you be placing another bet, Mr. Weiss?” the dealer asked.
He wanted to say no, but the beauty next to him swooned, “Oh Brad, you’re what I call a high roller. Another drink for the gentleman!” she commanded.
Brad was surprised to see that his glass was empty. He didn’t even remember draining it. Instantly, a fresh drink was placed before him, and he drank it quickly. “Yes,” he said, “I will place another bet.” He bet it all, confident that he was going to win.
His hunch had been correct. When he walked away from the gambling table, his winnings totaled four million dollars. Isabelle wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into a long kiss. Her soft, plump lips tasted like sugar while her tongue caressed his with tantalizing movements. He didn’t even remember how they made it upstairs to his suite. Once they were inside, Isabelle took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and undid the buttons on his shirt. All the while she was kissing him, her hands sensually stroked his body, setting him on fire. He was impatient to get her in bed, but she playfully tugged at his sleeve, edging him toward the bathroom. “I have a surprise for you,” she whispered.
The bathtub had been filled and in it, coated in soap bubbles, were two women who looked identical to his companion. At first Brad thought he was having trouble with his vision, but Isabelle quickly cleared his misunderstanding.
“These are my sisters, Amelia and Joanne. They so wanted to meet you. We’re triplets,” she added.
Brad’s eyes bulged out. It had been a long-time fantasy of his to sleep with twins, but now he was going to get triplets.
“Won
’t you join us, Brad?” the two women in the tub asked in unison.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. He flung off his clothes and jumped into the tub, making the water spill over. Amelia and Joanne welcomed him with passionate kisses and caresses. Isabelle slid out of her dress and gracefully climbed into the tub with them. There was plenty of room for all of them.
What ensued next was a bacchanalia of senses. Bodies came together, lips locked, and limbs intertwined. If Brad had been told then and there that it was his last moment on earth, he would’ve gladly accepted his fate. As far as he was concerned, he’d experienced everything he’d set out to experience. Everything that was to come from this point onward was going to be a cherry on the icing.
Brad stretched and winced. Muscle fatigue and a splitting headache were the only negative side effects of last night’s adventure. He had truly pushed his body to the limit, thrusting, contorting, and bending in all kinds of ways and angles to keep up with the triplets’ voracious appetites. The strain endured by his body probably equaled that of a five-hour gym session. He couldn’t remember being this sore even from the most vigorous workout sessions with his trainer. Not that he minded, not in the least.
It was time to get moving, so he ignored his soreness and got up. His flight to Oregon was leaving tonight. He went to the shower, throwing a lingering glance at the now empty bathtub that had been teeming with three beauties last night, three graces, as he’d come to think of them. He was already beginning to forget their names, but it really didn’t matter since he would always remember their gorgeous bodies and beautiful faces and the way they had pleasured him.
Chapter 3
When Brad emerged from the shower he was feeling much better. The fatigue was almost gone. He felt lithe and agile and ready to take on the world. He wiped himself off with a towel and threw on a bathrobe. Now all he needed was to get some breakfast, preferably eggs, bacon and cheese with coffee, and he’d be like new again. He slid his feet into his slippers and shuffled into the living room, eager to dial room service. His jaw nearly dropped when he saw a man sitting on a couch.