One Night in Vegas

by Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Angel Payne, Sierra Cartwright, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue

  “Why, of course!” Her face lit up as she explained, “I’d be happy to send one of our massage therapists up to your room. Would you like a male or female to attend to you?”

  Brad shook his head. “No, no… I’m not wanting a private session. I’d prefer the spa and no women present.”

  The young woman sneezed again, blushing a deeper shade of red. “I truly apologize…” She turned away from him to wipe her nose again. “Let me get our concierge, Francesca Young. I’m positive she can set something up for you.”

  Brad glanced down at the moving bag on the counter. “That’s okay. Just have her call my room.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Anderson,” a confident female voice stated behind him.

  He turned to see a slender woman with soft brown eyes and a stunning smile. “I live to accommodate our guests.”

  She grabbed the bag on the counter with a knowing smile. “I’m Francesca, and I’d be happy to escort you to your room while we discuss your unique needs on the way up.”

  Brad chuckled, knowing he’d been caught. “Why the hell not, Francesca?”

  As the elevator doors closed she opened the bag, and Cayenne’s head popped out. “Well now, aren’t you a little cutie?”

  She petted the top of the kitten’s head but gave Brad a stern look, stating, “The Nyte doesn’t allow pets in our fantasy suites, Mr. Anderson.”

  “I was aware,” he conceded, “and I agree allergies are nothing to sneeze at. However, Cayenne isn’t a pet.” He scratched the bottom of the kitten’s chin, causing her to purr. “This is my companion.”

  Francesca gave a curt nod. “I have cats of my own and understand, Mr. Anderson. It is an honor to have you join us tonight so you may keep your companion, and I will see to it that the room is thoroughly cleaned after your departure. Do you need one of my staff to fetch cat sand for her?”

  “Nope, it’s already taken care of. You are very kind, Miss Allen.”

  She smiled graciously in response. “About the massage you requested…we do have private rooms at the spa. I’d be happy to arrange a session with our finest masseuse.”

  “A man, please. I do not need the distraction of female hands on me tonight.” Just the mere thought of it had his shaft hardening. He nonchalantly moved his suitcase to cover the growing bulge.

  “Certainly. Carl is the best we have, and I assure you he’ll have no interest in your assets, Mr. Anderson,” Francesca said in a businesslike tone as she glanced away, a smile playing on her lips.

  Brad laughed to himself, only slightly embarrassed. As they exited the elevator, he asked her, “What time should I come down to the spa?”

  Francesca checked the schedule on her phone and announced, “It looks like Carl has an opening in two hours. Will that work for you, Mr. Anderson?”

  “Suits me just fine.” Brad placed his thumb on the keypad, and the doors slowly swung open, revealing an impressive living area with a killer view of the city.

  The sound of a waterfall caught his attention. He looked to his left and saw a glass wall with cascading electric blue water. In the center of the unusual wall was a gold-framed doorway that led into an elegant dining room.

  “Very nice,” he complimented.

  “In the bedroom you will find a full-size recessed hot tub as well as a walk-in shower for two that includes the added feature of music and custom lighting.”

  “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”

  “We want our clients to be fully satisfied.”

  “Well, there’s no question I will be sleeping like a baby tonight.”

  “That reminds me,” she stated, “the bed has the world’s top-rated mattress. If you do not feel it is the best sleep you’ve ever had, please let me know.”

  “I’ll do that,” he promised. As she was turning to leave, Brad reached out and touched her lightly on the shoulder. A blush rose to her cheeks from the simple contact. “I appreciate you taking care of the Cayenne situation, Miss Young.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Anderson. Don’t hesitate to call me if you require anything else. It’s my sincere and distinct honor to serve the new headmaster of the Submissive Training Center. Many of your graduates end up visiting us and have only praise for what you do there.”

  “Just how many people know I’m here?” Brad asked, suddenly concerned that his privacy might be compromised.

  “Only the essential staff. We respect your need for anonymity,” Francesca replied with a charming smile as she shut the double doors behind her.

  He felt rather foolish not anticipating the far-reaching consequences of becoming the headmaster of LA’s renowned training center. Before, Brad had never considered what it was like to represent the school 24/7, no matter where he was. He found it disquieting, and had more sympathy for his friend Thane Davis who’d been headmaster of the school for years.

  More than ever, he needed this night of relaxation. Once he hit LA, his life would no longer be his. Cradling Cayenne in his arms, he gently stroked her while staring out over the brightly lit city. “It appears our life is about to change in ways I wasn’t expecting, girl. I already miss Denver.”

  She mewed softly, rubbing her cheek against his hand.

  Brad looked down at the kitten and felt a brief moment of heartache. Amy…

  Shey

  Brad shared a quick snack of canned tuna fish with Cayenne before heading down to the spa. He spooned another bite for her and watched with satisfaction as she gobbled it up. “Hungry, are you?”

  She looked up at him expectantly as he was about to take his own bite. He chuckled, then gave her his portion. “Well, a growing girl needs to eat.” He petted her back, and was rewarded with her little body vibrating in a happy purr.

  Once she’d finished the can, he tossed it in the trash and took a quick shower in the fancy bathroom. He played with the dials until he found a soothing station, then adjusted the lighting to alternate between blue, yellow and green, in time with the music. The showerhead was massive and rained down warm water over his tired muscles.

  Even the soap had a relaxing scent, adding to the whole ‘serenity’ vibe.

  It made him wonder: if Mr. Nyte had perfected a serenity room, what the hell was the BDSM suite like? He decided it might warrant a trip back to the hotel to find out.

  Brad dressed in simple sweats and a thin T-shirt, pulling the brim of his cowboy hat down to avoid being recognized before he headed out. He was already feeling much more relaxed after his shower and knew sleep would come easily after a deep-tissue massage.

  The stress of packing and transferring power to the new staff of his Denver Academy had taken a toll on him. Hell, he was stiff in places he never knew existed before—and that was saying a lot.

  A session with his bullwhip would have helped because he found the power exchange exceedingly relaxing to his soul. However, he hadn’t had time for that before leaving Denver, and had decided to wait until he was settled in his new position before he sought a partner to play with.

  Brad entered the spa, lowering his head when he spied the herd of scantily clad women in short silk robes running about.

  Damn, women were beautiful creatures…

  He quickly made his way to the front desk to avoid contact with any of them. “I have an appointment with Carl.”

  “And your name, sir?”

  Brad looked up and found himself momentarily speechless, stunned by the beautiful redhead who stood before him. Seeing her reminded him of Amy, and the wound that he’d so carefully tended was unceremoniously ripped back open.

  The girl smiled pleasantly, unaware of the pain she’d just inflicted on him.

  “Name’s Anderson. Brad Anderson,” he mumbled. He turned away from her as he leaned against the desk, trying to appear casual when he was anything but.

  “Welcome, Mr. Anderson. I know Miss Young penciled you in, but I’m sorry to inform you that Carl is running a few minutes late. Will that be a problem for you?”
>
  Brad shook his head, unwilling to brave another look at her. “As long as it’s only a few minutes, I’m fine.”

  He tensed when he felt her hand on his shoulder a few seconds later. Her light touch stirred him in ways he hadn’t expected and didn’t want.

  “I’ve brought you some water. It always pays to stay hydrated in Vegas,” she advised him with an endearing smile—her blue eyes drawing him in with their gentle sincerity. A light rose-colored blush covered her cheeks when their eyes met. She quickly lowered her gaze, but the damage was already done.

  Oh, God…there was nothing sexier than a redhead’s blush.

  “Thank you,” he replied gruffly, taking it from her and immediately unscrewing the lid to take a swig, wanting to avoid any further interaction.

  The girl was absolutely exquisite; long red hair framed an angel-like face, giving her an innocent look that those big blue eyes only accentuated.

  She whispered under her breath so no one else would hear, “I respect what you do, Mr. Anderson.”

  He glanced at her sideways. “I take it you know who I am.”

  “Oh, yes. When Miss Young informed me you were coming, I prayed I’d have the honor of meeting you in person.” The redhead put her hands to her heart and grinned. “I feel so blessed right now.”

  Brad only smiled, puzzled that he felt such an intense attraction to her. Sure, the girl had red hair like Amy, but damn, there was something about the woman… Females didn’t normally have this effect on him.

  “Would you prefer to wait for Carl in the private room?”

  “Yes, please,” he said with a chuckle, daring to gaze into those baby blues again. There was so much depth to her soul, and a hint of sadness that beckoned to him.

  In response to the unusual intensity of his stare, the redhead blushed a deeper shade of pink, which only added to her charm.

  The young woman led him to the private room, which looked more like a scene from a tropical movie with its lava rocks, miniature waterfall, and lush plants filling the room. She pointed to the long leather table in the center. “If you would undress completely and lie face down, Carl should be here shortly.”

  Being asked to undress by her naturally sultry voice had an unwanted effect. Brad nodded, grateful she would be leaving the room before his attraction to her was more noticeable.

  She handed him a small silk cover, and it wasn’t until then that Brad noticed how unusually slender her wrist was. Although her frame was hidden under her loose smock, it was obvious the girl was underweight. He felt a sense of protectiveness rise up in him.

  “Please use this as a cover-up while you wait, Master Anderson.”

  He was surprised to hear the word Master come from her lips but assumed it had been a slip on her part as he studied her face. He could detect no flirtatious intent as he watched her leave the room. “Wait. I don’t think I caught your name.”

  “My name is Shey Allen.” She surprised him by quickly apologizing. “My da is Irish and always wanted a boy, so I was blessed with a man’s name.”

  “Shey,” he repeated, liking the sound of it. “It fits you well, Miss Allen. You should never apologize for such a charming name.”

  Her lashes fluttered at the unexpected compliment. “You’re very kind. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

  Turning down the light, Shey left him staring at the door as she quietly left.

  Brad wondered if the woman had any idea how striking she was. He shook his head to clear it as he undressed. Once naked, he picked up the small cover-up and laughed, tossing it to the side.

  He was not a man who was ashamed of his body. Settling down on the table, he laid his head onto the padded cutout and closed his eyes.

  The sound of the trickling water filled the small room, soothing the sexual tension that meeting Shey had caused. Soon he felt himself relaxing and let out a long drawn-out sigh, grateful he’d chosen to splurge by coming to the Nyte Hotel.

  Sometimes money could buy happiness…

  After an extraordinarily long wait, the door finally opened. Brad didn’t bother looking up, choosing instead to remain in his relaxed position. He listened to the man wash his hands, and a few minutes later, hot oil splashed on his skin.

  Brad let out a low groan as he worked the oil in. “That feels great, Carl.”

  The man definitely had magical fingers, just as Francesca had promised. Powerful and strong, but experienced enough to soon have Brad feeling like a puddle of relaxed goo.

  A light tapping on his thigh, let him know he needed to turn over. Brad did so reluctantly, feeling so comfortable that he didn’t have the will to move. Turning onto his back, he suddenly found himself staring straight into those familiar blue eyes.

  “What the…” he grumbled, bolting up as he covered his groin with his hands before she could sneak a glance.

  “I’m so sorry, Master Anderson! Carl had a family emergency and was forced to leave unexpectedly. Knowing how long you’ve been waiting, I hated the thought of canceling your appointment.”

  “Miss Allen, while I appreciate your willingness to take care of my needs, I specifically asked for a male, and you are definitely not a man.”

  “I’m a professional, Mr. Anderson. I never overstep the bounds as a masseuse, if that is your concern.”

  “It is not you I’m concerned about,” he growled, reaching over and grabbing the small cover-up to place over his hardening shaft. The thin material only helped to emphasize the rigidness of it.

  Brad lay back down, seeing the humor in the situation. He stared up at the ceiling with a smirk on his face. Sometimes life was a series of comical curveballs…

  “I deeply apologize, Mr. Anderson,” she sputtered. “Please know I only desired to honor your appointment. I’ll leave, if you prefer.”

  He could hear guilt tainting her voice, knowing she had displeased him.

  “You may stay,” he stated, steeling himself for the sexual tension that was already building.

  She’s a professional, he reminded himself.

  Brad closed his eyes again and soon felt the warm oil drip onto his pecs. Her delicate but exceedingly strong fingers soon had him quietly groaning as she kneaded out the knots of his tension-ridden body.

  Taking over the Submissive Training Center as the new headmaster was adding a whole new level of stress on top of the already stressful relocation. He was eternally grateful Marquis Gray, with all his years of experience as a trainer at the school, still remained part of the staff—he trusted that it would make the transition smoother.

  Brad became distracted from his wandering thoughts when Shey began massaging the palm of his hand. It was strangely intimate and sensual even though it wasn’t intended to be, causing feelings he did not care to deal with. He gently pulled his hand away, muttering, “I could do without that, Miss Allen.”

  Shey stammered an apology and started on his feet next. Her fingers began their magic as she caressed the balls of his feet, but it caused the same reaction, and he sat up abruptly. “I think we’re done here.”

  She looked crushed. “I’m sorry I failed in my job tonight.”

  Moving stiffly because of his rigid shaft, Brad turned his back to her but said in a reassuring tone, “It is not a case of failing, Miss Allen. The fact is, you’re a little too skilled with those hands of yours.”

  He heard her washing up before she headed towards the door. “I’ll leave you to dress.”

  Brad quickly slipped on his sweats, overcome with an irresistible urge to stop her from leaving. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight? When does your shift end?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Actually, I was off two hours ago. I only stayed to take care of you.”

  Her answer moved him. As he placed his black Stetson on his head, he winked at her. “All the more reason I owe you a meal and conversation, darlin’.”

  Shey’s pink lips curled into a joyous smile, her blue eyes sparkling. “No need, Master Anderson. It w
as my pleasure to serve you.”

  Lord help me…he groaned to himself.

  Brad knew that dinner with her was a terrible idea. Spending additional time with the girl would only be asking for trouble, but—just like with Amy—he felt defenseless against his powerful attraction to her.

  One thing was different, however. He’d learned his lesson with Amy. His mistake had been in trying to dominate the redhead into loving him, and he’d come excruciatingly close… God, his heart still ached remembering that day. That horrible moment when Amy had walked away from him and into the arms of Troy Dawson.

  Not wanting to repeat the past, Brad determined to keep tonight casual. He actually liked the idea of getting to know Shey on a more personal level, but resolved to make a hasty retreat as soon as dinner was over.

  All he wanted was a good night’s sleep, and there was a soft bed beckoning to him upstairs. Brad glanced down at his aching cock, which urged him to do otherwise.

  Too bad.

  His freaking dick could wait for a quick hand job in the shower. There was no need to complicate things for either of them.

  “Do you mind if I go home to change, Mr. Anderson? I could be back here in less than an hour.”

  “You look good as you are, Miss Allen, but if it would make you feel better I have no objections to meeting in an hour.”

  “Great!” Shey started to walk away, but turned and asked hesitantly, “Do you mind if I dress up? I rarely have the chance.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I find that hard to believe, but by all means, feel free to dress to the nines.”

  She nodded and walked away with a pleased smile. He couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to her swaying ass as she left.

  Oh, holy hell…

  Brad, who had not planned on going out, had packed only jeans and a T-shirt. He dutifully made his way to the closest clothing shop in the hotel and picked out a simple, overpriced suit, shirt and tie. He then went up to his room, tossed his cowboy hat on a chair, and collapsed onto the bed, wanting to close his eyes for a half-hour.

  Cayenne would have none of it and jumped onto his chest, happy that he was back. She rubbed her cheek against his rough chin, purring softly.