I’m not supposed to like Finn. I’m supposed to be here only for the money, to give Morgan and me a better life. Yet, as I watch him standing across the room where an older woman has her hand on his arm and is throwing her head back in laughter because of something he’s said, I feel rage boil within me. I shouldn’t be jealous. I know he’s not mine and never will be, but after spending the past few days with him, I am.
When I said yes to his proposition, I was determined to make his life hell. I wanted him to regret ever asking me to do this, but even when I’m being sarcastic or defiant, I want to be with him. My body craves the attention he’s giving and more. Yesterday was proof that I’m in too deep. I have no doubt he questions the things I say to him about only being a stripper after I bared all, after I started pleasuring myself in front of him because I had this uncontrollable urge to do so. The exhilaration I felt at seeing him morph from a man who wanted his dick sucked into a man desperate to bring us both pleasure was indescribable. My body tingled with anticipation knowing that I was making his resolve break, that I was in the one in control.
I’m stupid to think anything has changed between us. Sex doesn’t change people, emotions do, and Finn has his locked down tight. Not that I blame him. I knew from the get-go that once the week was over, we’d go our separate ways and that would be that.
So if I know that, then why am I jealous of the woman he’s talking to? I shouldn’t care. My throat shouldn’t be constricting nor should my eyes be watering. Yet, as I stand here, across the room from him, he looks happy. Finn looks content even though he’s surrounded by the people who push and pull him in every direction.
Tonight has been fun. Hell, dressing up in the gowns I chose has been a fantasy come true, but as my stomach rolls and the anxiety builds I can’t help but think my replacement is standing next to Finn. Soon I’ll be going home and this week of luxury will be a distant memory. Even the money I’m being paid won’t erase the thought of how my life could’ve been so much different.
With steely resolve I make my way over to Finn and the other woman. Her eyes land on me first and I smile, softly, but she doesn’t return the sentiment. When Finn turns, I can’t tell if the expression on his face is meant for me or was for her. Either way, I’m not about to find out.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s fine, what do you need?” he says, answering my earlier question. He doesn’t want me near him right now and hasn’t since we walked in.
“I’m going to take a cab back to the hotel. I’m not feeling well.” I don’t give him a chance to respond as I hike my dress up and walk briskly out of the room. If people are staring, I’m not paying attention. My watery eyes are focused on the door, as I push the heavy metal bar forward and walk out.
Once again I find myself running through a casino in a dress, but at least this time the men who happen to glance my way don’t assume I’m a hooker or someone looking for a good time. They might make the assumption that my heart is broken and it is, but that’s my own fault. Finn has never promised me anything except money, clothes and sex, all three of which he has delivered on.
Luckily for me, the line for a taxi is empty and I’m able to slide right in. I tell the driver to take me to Allure, wishing I was going somewhere alone for the night. I need a break from Finn and the intensity of our situation.
When the valet sees me, he smiles and tells the cab driver to submit a bill to the hotel and that I’m Mr. McCormick’s special guest. “Special,” what a crock-of-shit word for a high-priced escort. As much as I want to disagree with him, I don’t. I thank him and walk as fast as I can to the elevators.
As luck would have it, I’m not the only one needing to get to their room. A loud, drunk and slightly obnoxious group of people are playing the game of which door will open first. This is where I wish Finn had a private elevator, but he insists on being an equal when he’s clearly not.
When one of the lights turns on and the ding happens, they cheer. I could wait for the next one, or follow them in. Given the fact that I want to get out of this dress, I step in and swipe my card for the penthouse.
“Whoa, fancy lady,” a female sneers from behind me. I smile and remain focused on the climbing lights.
“We should party in her room,” another says. I don’t want to think they’ll wait for me to get off because if they do, I don’t know what I’m going to do. There isn’t a phone to call from in Finn’s hall and I now realize my mistake. I’ve seen Finn do it many times. He waits for the other person in the elevator to push their floor and chooses the one above it. Once they’re off, he swipes his card.
The elevator stops, opening up into the nightclub. When the group doesn’t budge, I do. I show the bouncer my pass—the one Finn gave to me so I can access everything in the hotel—and pray that this man doesn’t think I’m a fraud.
“Ms. Webster, thank you for joining us tonight.”
“I’m not,” I say, leaning in to him so he can hear me. “There’s a group of people on the elevator who think they can party in Mr. McCormick’s room and he’s still at the fundraiser.”
The bouncer picks up the phone and makes a call. Within minutes, Lamar, the man who escorted Finn to the club I was working at, appears. He looks none too happy about being out in the middle of the night.
“Ms. Webster.”
“Hello.”
“Follow me and I’ll get you back to the penthouse.”
He holds his arm out for me and I take it, feeling like a dwarf next to him. Inside the elevator we ride the few extra floors, standing side by side. He must hate his job right now, having to wake up and come and save me. It’d be one thing if I were a damsel in distress instead of a complete moron. When the door opens, I step out and am instantly met by the group of people I left behind. Apparently my ditching attempt wasn’t clear enough for them.
“Let me hold the door for you,” Lamar says, keeping his arm spread out so the elevator doesn’t close. The group looks at me and back at him. He smiles, nods and motions for them to get into the car. They do. “Have a nice night,” he says, letting the door close.
“Thank you,” I say, but I am too late. He’s already gone and I’m left standing in the empty hallway. I’m not even going to comment on the fact that he’s seen me naked and not once looked me up and down. Finn is lucky to have him.
Inside, I step out of my dress and hang it carefully in the closet. The scent of Finn surrounds me, making me miss him. I contemplate packing my things, but none of what I have now will fit in my carry-on and I’d be foolish to get rid of the clothes I brought with me. As much as I want to say I won’t return to stripping, it’s the only thing I know and it’s how I pay the bills.
Stripping down to nothing, I wrap myself in a silk bathrobe. Finn brought it home…no, not home. This is anything but my home and I shouldn’t let myself get into the habit of thinking of it as such. He brought it here and thought I would like it. He’s right, I do. Goosebumps tickle my skin and my nipples harden from the cool fabric and cold air in the room.
In the kitchen, I pull a glass from the wine rack and take a chilled bottle from the fridge outside onto his patio. I have yet to spend any time out here and quickly realize this is my favorite spot. I lean against the railing and let the soft breeze of the Vegas night swirl around me. The lights from the Strip are calling me and I have the urge to go down there and party. I don’t have to wonder what Finn would say, or do. That would be a one-way ticket back home and I’d have to hope for a prorated deal on my fee.
Lying back in the chaise with a glass of wine in my hand, I listen to the bustling of activity below me. The club is alive and the music is pumping. In the distance, you can hear people yelling, horns beeping, but mostly it’s quiet up here.
“I thought you were sick?”
Finn’s voice startles me, causing my wine to spill on the bathrobe.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I say, ignoring him and dabbing the stain with my bare hand. Finn is beside me, sitting on the chaise.
“Stop.” He grabs my hand, holding it still.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin it.” I know there are tears waiting to fall and I refuse to look at Finn. I refuse to let him know that he’s getting to me.
“Look at me, Macey.”
I shake my head and opt to finish the wine before setting the empty glass on the floor.
“You left me.”
I scoff. “You were busy. I honestly didn’t think you’d notice. I almost didn’t tell you.”
Finn sighs and runs his hand through his dark hair. It falls back into place immediately. His hair looks the same, whether he’s waking up or I’ve run my hands through it while we’re having sex.
“Look, I’m not pissed. I get it.”
“Get what, exactly?” he asks, taking off his tuxedo jacket. He starts working on his cuff links, followed by the buttons of his shirt.
“That you’re looking to bed the next donor. It’s business. You’re a businessman and she clearly wanted to be between your sheets. I thought about leaving so you could seal the deal tonight and not have to worry about me being here.”
“Wow,” he says, acting shocked. “I can’t believe you think so little of me.”
“Am I supposed to think differently?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I thought I’ve been doing a decent job of treating you nicely. I know I’m demanding, but you don’t shy away from telling me off either.”
He stands and moves toward the living room. “Look, if you want to go, you can. I’m not going to keep you here if you don’t want to be here. I’ll put the money on the counter for you.”
Finn disappears before I can open my mouth and tell him that I’m sorry, that maybe I misjudged him. Deep in my heart I know that I didn’t, though. Once I’m gone, he’ll replace me with someone else. It may not be Brandy or the woman who was all over him, but next week another woman will walk barefoot through his house, share his bed and be made to feel like the world is at their feet.
And maybe they won’t be a stripper or an escort. Maybe she’ll be a random chick he sees walking down the street or an old flame who has returned to Vegas for a vacation. Regardless, it won’t be me.
I start to get up, only to find him standing where the wall should be. He’s clad only in silk pajama bottoms, sitting low, highlighting the defined V of his hips. My mouth waters, knowing the taste of him well and wanting more.
Finn stalks toward me, resting his knee on the chaise until I’m pushed back against it.
“Don’t leave,” he whispers over my mouth, his lips dangerously close to touching mine. He nuzzles my neck, placing feather-light kisses on my skin while his covered erection presses against my leg. Closing my eyes, I open to him, letting him center himself.
“Please stay, Macey,” he begs, resting half his body on me as he cups my cheek. Between his blue eyes and the dark stubble, I’m lost. I desperately want to kiss him, to feel his lips and tongue against mine. I swallow hard, fighting back the urge, and nod my head.
“Yeah?” he asks and I nod again, pulling my lower lip between my teeth to keep myself in check.
“You won’t be sorry.” His lips are like fire against my neck as they move languidly down the valley of my breasts. The tie keeping my robe closed is pulled away and the silk keeping me covered is pulled again. Finn’s grasp on my boob is rough but sensual, and as his teeth bite down on my nipple, I cry out.
Reaching between us, I pull the drawstring on his pants, loosening them enough that I can slide my hand in, feeling his arousal against the palm of my hand. Gripping his shaft, I work my hand up and down his rod while his mouth makes love to my breasts.
Finn pushes my robe away, leaving me exposed to the elements. The cool breeze hits my wet nipples, making them harder. I arch into him, needing him to take away the chill. With each pull of my hand, his erection brushes against my clit, increasing my need for him. I let go, needing my hands to push his pants down. I want him in me. I need the feeling of him inside to take away the ache that I feel in my heart. My time with him is coming to an end and I don’t want it to.
“Fuck, your body is on fire,” he says, kissing his way down my torso.
“Finn, please.”
He sits back on his haunches with his hands on my knees, spreading my legs open. My finger rubs my clit, giving me a little bit of the friction I need. Finn licks his lips and pulls my body forward, lining up with my core, rubbing the head of his dick between my folds. He hisses at the contact, letting his head fall back before his gaze meets mine.
“Do you want me?” he asks, his voice soft.
“Yes.” I squirm, making sure he can feel how wet I am.
“Fuck it.” A primal roar echoes loudly as Finn plunges into me. He stills and looks me in the eye. “Tell me you’re on something because now that I can feel your pussy caressing my bare dick I don’t want to cover it.”
“I am. I promise.” My hand reaches up to cup his cheek. He kisses my palm and starts moving his hips in a slow rhythm, never taking his smoldering eyes away from mine. I meet him thrust for thrust with my hands pressed to his backside, taking him in greedily and holding him there as long as possible until neither of us can hold on anymore.