Authors: Heather Hiestand
“Shall I tell Shari you stopped by?” Adonis said with a
grin.
Melanie snatched her hand away. “No, that’s okay.”
He stopped her with a look. “Considering the way you were
making yourself at home in her booth, I thought you were a personal friend. Not
to mention I’ve just noticed you aren’t wearing a badge.”
“I left it upstairs,” she lied, hated to give up the
protection of the counter side between herself and this unnerving man, but she
did, skirting him and the cord as unobtrusively as possible. She could feel his
eyes digging into her back as she walked away.
Rob watched the woman rush away. She was as skittish as a
colt, he thought. Then he winced. She was right! She made him think in clichés.
She reminded him of Bombshell, but she had something extra, some special spark.
And his response was to behave like an idiot.
So how should he describe her beauty, if he didn’t use
clichés? He couldn’t say “She walks in beauty, like the night” for two reasons.
She was blonde and Byron’s words were now a cliché! Or even Campion’s “There is
a garden in her face/where roses and white lilies blow”, even though her skin
was like that, with rosy cheeks and fair skin.
Maybe that should be his new career, he thought
sardonically. A bad poet. He never should have taken that poetry appreciation
class in college. All he ever remembered was the descriptive love poetry. He’d
have no problem whispering sweet nothings into this mysterious beauty’s ear,
that’s for sure.
Then a thought struck him. Who was she? She might have been
up to no good. The business was full of crooks and con artists.
* * * * *
Melanie sped down the hallway outside the north end of the
ballroom as fast as she could, furious with herself. She hated lying, but she
had been afraid Adonis would arrest her if he discovered she shouldn’t have
been in the trade show, not to mention fondling someone’s products. He had that
commanding air she connected with law enforcement, though he didn’t wear a
uniform.
She hit the down button on the elevator, wondering idly what
Adonis was doing at the conference. He seemed too conservatively dressed to be
a part of the crowd she’d seen at the tradeshow, though he was pretty
outrageous in his appraisal of her. What had he said? That she had ‘a body like
a pinup girl’? If she fit that statement, it was certainly true of him. He
could be a real pinup boy. She wondered if she’d run into him again. The odds
weren’t good, which was a pity. She’d have liked to get a second look. Just for
fun.
The elevator opened. Empty. She got in and pushed the lobby
button. So was he a distributor? Or maybe some kind of entrepreneur? He
obviously knew the woman who owned the edible oil company. That would be fine.
He’d make a great playmate as long as his professional interests didn’t involve
being filmed with playmates.
The elevator descended to the lobby and she stepped out to
the ringing of the slot machines. Melanie tried to orient herself, walking
deeper into the casino and the raucous chimes that made you think people were
winning big bucks. A few yards on, she found a sign pointing toward
Registration and figured out where she was.
Maybe Adonis belonged to the hotel staff, not to the
convention itself. Maybe he was a security guard! He had taken her lack of a
badge quite seriously. All she knew for sure was how hot he looked, how warm
his chest had felt, how his nipple had hardened under her hand. She wondered if
the rest of him would come to attention as quickly if her hand had dropped
there…
By a large fern in the reception area, Tommy Joe waited for
her, his arms folded across his chest. Melanie noticed that his chest wasn’t
nearly as large or defined as Adonis’s had been.
“You took your sweet time,” he pouted.
How hostile, Melanie thought. Tommy Joe had been so
even-tempered until now. “I’m sorry, I got distracted.”
“Didn’t you find anything to eat?”
Melanie blushed at the memory of what she had nibbled on.
“Just a cookie.” She noticed the luggage at his feet. “Did you get our rooms?”
Tommy Joe produced a key packet for her. “I couldn’t get us
rooms next to each other, but we are on the same floor. On opposite ends.”
“Fine.” Melanie didn’t like the idea of them having rooms
next to each other anyway. Too intimate. “It’s not as if we’re going to be
spending any time there.”
Tommy Joe smiled shyly. “Our rooms are near the pool. I
still remember all those trophies you had in the case in your entryway,” he
said, enthusiasm in his voice. “I bet you still like to swim.”
The diving trophies. Gerald had insisted they be displayed
prominently. You couldn’t get much more prominent than a lighted case in the
one hallway every visitor walked through. She had packed them away as soon as
Gerald moved out. Her diving career was ancient history.
“I appreciate that, Tommy Joe. I would like to swim while
I’m here.”
A security guard stopped their progress as they came into
the hotel part of the enormous casino and made them show their room cards.
Tommy Joe pulled his out of the paper sleeve and showed the
hotel logo to the guard. “She’s with me,” he said officiously, as if she didn’t
have a room key of her own.
Melanie, annoyed, started to pull hers out of her pocket
too, but the guard waved her on with a bored look then checked the room card of
a slim Asian woman with beautiful glossy black hair who stood behind her.
At the elevators, Tommy Joe said, “I didn’t mean to
embarrass you by making it sound like we were sharing a room. As fun as this
is, I realize we might not have traveled to Las Vegas together under different
circumstances.”
“No problem.” Boy was that right. She couldn’t imagine this
shy guy being her Devil-man soul mate. Now that Adonis guy with his commanding
behavior, him she could see being a handful. But he had blond hair, which
didn’t fit.
He smiled his shy smile at her. “C’mon, Melanie, let’s dump
our stuff and find a restaurant.”
Melanie looked back at the security guard. He wore a matching
puke green shirt and pants, obviously a uniform. If she recalled correctly,
Adonis had on a tan cashmere T-shirt with black pants and ankle boots.
Obviously he wasn’t a security guard.
She couldn’t get her mind off the feel of his soft cashmere
shirt and the hardness underneath. Her skin still tingled. She felt like the
little kid who swore he’d never again wash the palm of the hand that shook his
baseball hero’s hand.
Who was Adonis? Had she ever been so attracted to a man in
all her life?
Chapter Four
A few hours later at the LeatherWorks booth, Rob realized he
was staring at Tim’s leather and metal dog collar. At least he was advertising
the company’s products. Rob considered himself lucky his staff didn’t walk
around the office in the black mask and leather underwear combo that had been
their bestseller last Christmas. It was one hell of a business.
He smiled at Anita, who was walking by, hips twitching. She
did stand out in the crowd.
She stopped at his counter, saying, “Sweetie!”
“I prefer Sweetums, you know,” Rob said, deadpan. The
erotically charged atmosphere was getting to him. Or maybe it was just that he
couldn’t get that beautiful blonde out of his mind. Had he ever met a sexier
woman in his life? He felt a stirring in his shorts that he tamped immediately,
knowing full well Anita’s reaction if she thought his erection was for her. He
really needed to get back to his office and spreadsheets.
“Oh you,” Anita giggled and ran a hot pink-taloned finger
down his exposed forearm. “I was wondering…”
“Yes?” He jerked his arm away.
“Is there any chance you might be featuring anyone other
than yourself on your packaging again anytime soon?”
“Anita,” Rob said, weary of this never-ending correction,
“I’ve never been featured on our packaging. It’s my grandfather.”
“Sure it is, Sweetums,” she said.
“Scout’s honor,” he said, giving the time-honored salute.
“You know,” she looked him up and down, “I almost believe
you were a Boy Scout.”
“I can prove that I’m not the Whipmaster. Grandfather and I
don’t even remotely have the same physique.”
“I’d love for you to prove it.” She made a come-hither
motion with her fingers.
He shook his head. “I don’t have to. You saw me at the pool
yesterday. You’ve seen just about all there is to see of me, woman.”
Anita narrowed her eyes. “Not the best parts.”
“The Whipmaster’s ‘best’ parts aren’t displayed on the
packaging of LeatherWorks’ products either.”
“I’ve always wondered about that. I mean, what are you
hiding under those leather shorts?”
Rob shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Anyway, Rob, about my question. I heard from someone that
you were auditioning people?”
“No, where did you hear that?”
Anita shook her head. “I met this cute little Asian girl who
said LeatherWorks was auditioning.”
“I don’t mind talking to her, but you know LeatherWorks is
for sale, right?”
“I wonder who she heard about the audition from. Maybe
someone was pulling a fast one.” Anita shrugged and asked, “What are you going
to do with yourself if you end up out of work?”
Rob grimaced. “Right before lunch I considered becoming a
bad poet.”
“There’s always a need for more good love poetry. Maybe you
can come up with something that rhymes with Sweetums.”
“Ha ha.”
“But seriously, what is next for Rob Black?”
“I really don’t know. Maybe in six months I’ll come to you
begging to be your manager.”
Anita smirked. “I represent myself better than anyone else
could. But I’d throw you a bone. You threw me one once.”
“It was never like that.”
She gave him a sunny smile. “I always liked you. You’re a nice
guy. Be sweet to that little Asian girl, Rob. She has that look in her eye.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I might do something stupid if I don’t get a break
soon’ look.”
“The ‘I’m gonna get drunk and get a tattoo’ look?”
Anita laughed. “Something like that.” She waved her fingers
at him as she turned to go and swiveled her hips down the corridor.
Rob leaned against the unsteady wall of his booth and let
the noise of all the humanity bargaining at booths wash over him. He glanced at
his product line. They were already getting low on the masks. Anita’s face on
the packaging sure didn’t hurt his sales there. Maybe he could fit a new woman
in somewhere. They were testing out a cowgirl kit. It might be nice to play
against type.
If she were attractive enough he’d try just that. He could
afford to take creative risks with LeatherWorks about to slip from his grasp.
The afternoon was busy and he sold out on masks and leather
catsuits, plus picked up a number of wholesale orders. His marketing people had
assured him bondage was in and they had been right.
“Mr. Black?” a heavily accented female voice said behind him
and he turned from adjusting the whip display.
A young, beautiful Asian girl stood at the counter. Rob
noticed her hands shook slightly as she smoothed her short black skirt. Was
this Anita’s protégé? “Yes, that’s me. What can I do for you?”
“May I see a catalog?” she asked politely.
Confused as to her identity, he handed her one and watched
her leaf through it.
“Rob, how’s it hanging?”
Rob caught sight of one of his long-time customers, one who
had been around since his father’s time.
“Jerry, how’s business?” he asked, shaking the store owner’s
hand.
“Can’t complain. What’s new and exciting at LeatherWorks?”
“We have a number of offerings, why don’t you come in?” Rob
called out to Tim who took Jerry into the spacious rear of the booth to show
off the latest product lines.
“Mr. Black?” said the woman, who had been silently paging
through his catalogue throughout his conversation with Jerry.
“Yes?”
“My name is Tida Toruksa. Anita Press told me to see you.”
She was indeed very attractive. Anita could pick them.
“Anita came by. You’re a model?”
“Actually no.” Tida raised her head high on an elegantly
slim neck. “I am a nursing assistant.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I have been told I am beautiful.” She regarded him with a
steady gaze. “A friend told me you look for models.”
“I’m afraid you were told wrong.” Rob saw a flash of hurt in
her eyes. In this business a lot of women were lied to. “Modeling” was often
merely a euphemism. “There’s no doubt about your looks but you didn’t answer my
question. Beauty tends to get chewed up and spat out in this business.”
“Surely there can be no harm in modeling.”
“That’s really not for me to say. Can’t you get a job as a
nursing assistant?”
“The money is not good enough. Do you have job for me or
not?” Her lips trembled slightly.
Rob noticed her accent had thickened and her English had
become less precise as she became upset. “Once again, you didn’t answer my
question,” he said with patience.
“Yes, Mr. Black, I have job,” she said defiantly. “I live in
Seattle just like you.”
“Why do you need the money?”
“What business is it of yours?”
“For one thing, drugs. For all I know, you’re covered with
track marks.”
“Nurses do not need street drugs to be addicts, but I have
never touched drugs.”
“Why don’t you go the conventional modeling route? You must
be what, twenty? That isn’t too old.”
“I am twenty-two and I am not tall enough to be a model.”
She cut off his protest. “I know, Mr. Black. I have tried.”
“I’ll think about using you. Can I let you know in a few
days?”
She nodded. “Yes.” A tiny frown on her perfect face, she
handed him a piece of paper with a neatly printed phone number and address.
“This is how to reach me.”
“Don’t you have a room here at the hotel?”
She shook her head. “Too expensive.”
Rob looked at the sheet then back at her lovely, anxious
face. He wondered how she had gotten the plane ticket down here from Seattle.
Hopefully she hadn’t gone into debt for it. “I’ll let you know.”
She nodded, her eyes wandering over the merchandise display
before she turned and walked slowly down the corridor.
* * * * *
Melanie yawned as she knocked on Tommy Joe’s door early that
evening. He didn’t answer the door, which was odd. Their product conference had
yet to begin, so where could he have gone? Melanie realized her ego was in
overdrive. Just because he acted like he had a crush on her didn’t mean he
would wait around all day for her.
She yawned again. Time for some caffeine and yes, maybe some
more food. She wandered downstairs to the mezzanine level, which had a number
of restaurants. The area was filled with people. Judging from the men in tight
leather outfits and women with skirts so mini they barely covered the globes of
their butt cheeks, the adult conference trade show was out for the day. Of
course, their look could just be the current style in Las Vegas.
She remembered from the hotel schedule that their conference
symposiums were ready to start tonight. Her conference didn’t start until the
next morning. She had a whole night to get herself into trouble. Her mind
wandered to Adonis. How much trouble could she get herself into during one
little night in Las Vegas? With any luck, quite a bit.
Grub and Gauntlet looked full and Tacos and Tiaras had a
line, so Melanie decided to eat at The King’s Buffet. She went through the
line, selecting a vegetarian sub and iced coffee, then looked for a table. She
held her tray away from her body, not wanting to slosh any coffee on her purple
tie-dyed T-shirt, a handmade birthday gift from her cousin. Thinking of
birthdays reminded her of the tarot reading. Had she met her Devil-man yet? She
bet there were more men here into bondage than in any other building in
America.
Crossing through a group of occupied tables, a man with a
leather and metal dog collar caught her eye. The collar even had a loop for
connecting the chain. If only she’d had a choke chain to hold back her ex when
he’d gone after coeds. Collar-man looked familiar. She found it hard to believe.
Surely she didn’t know anyone who dressed like that.
“Melanie?”
Collar-man waved at her. He certainly knew who she was. He
stood up and waved. “You’re Brisa’s cousin, aren’t you?”
She nodded. So this is the sort of guy her cousin hung out
with. No wonder she never brought any dates around. “I’m sorry, I knew you
looked familiar, but I can’t remember your name.”
“It’s Tim, I took Brisa home one day when her car—” he began
eagerly.
Tim was interrupted by the deep voice of another man,
sounding incredulous. “You’re Brisa’s cousin?”
She glanced to her left and dropped her tray. Adonis was
approaching her from the direction of the beverage bar. Tim grabbed for her
dinner, but his arms closed around air and he only ended up getting coffee all
over his black leather pants.
“What’s a woman like you doing in a place like this?”
Melanie glared at Adonis. What an idiotic thing to say! “I’m
eating dinner.”
He glanced down, where Tim was picking up pickles and olives
from her sandwich. “Floor picnic?”
“Yes, floor picnic,” Melanie said wearily. She had forgotten
that inside the beautiful face and body was the brain of an ant. If only he
could hold a conversation, she’d be in heaven. Of course he couldn’t be her
Devil-man. His hair was too blond, though it did have brown streaks. They’d
look like Barbie and Ken if they got together.
A waiter came up to them, cleared the mess and promised to
bring her another sandwich and coffee.
Tim said, “Why don’t you eat with us?”
Melanie looked at Adonis. He was staring at her like she was
an alien. “No thanks, Tim. I’d rather go hide in a corner.” She took a step
backward into something squishy. Looking down, she discovered she had impaled
her sandal on a slice of cheese the waiter had missed. She rubbed it off
against a chair leg and slunk away.
Brisa’s cousin? Rob realized it made sense. He hadn’t known
she had one. And she wasn’t an employee, so he could date her without feeling
guilty. He grinned until he remembered the disgusted expression on her face as
soon as he’d opened his mouth. Well, first impressions weren’t everything. Of
course this was her second impression. Which was worse—X-rated Mother Goose or
brain-dead moron?
“She’s almost as hot as Bombshell,” Tim commented. “That
luscious body must be in their gene pool.”
“Almost?” Rob scoffed. “Bombshell’s barely in the same
universe. Do you know her name?”
Tim opened his mouth to object but stopped at Rob’s
expression and merely shook his head. Rob stood. “I’m going to talk to her.”
“Why? She can’t stand the sight of you for some reason,” Tim
grinned.
Rob glared at his assistant. “We had a misunderstanding
earlier.”
He stepped over the cheese mess on the floor and went in
search of her. She was hidden in a corner as she had threatened. What a waste,
Rob thought, but then realized no one else would be staring at her and her
tight, low-cut purple T-shirt. She looked amazing, even better than this
afternoon in her short skirt. Her legs were long and shapely, but her breasts
were downright magnificent.
“Hi,” he said, reaching her table.
She looked up. “Oh it’s you.”
He pulled up a chair and sat down uninvited and waited while
she thanked the waiter who brought her replacement food. “That doesn’t look too
exciting,” he commented.
She fixed him with a frosty glare. “What were you eating,
raw meat?”
“Ouch,” he winced. “What have you got against me anyway?”
She gave him a cool once-over. “I have nothing against you,”
she said.
Just give me time, gorgeous, and all of you will be
against me
. “I didn’t know Brisa had a cousin.”
“Why would you? How do you know her?”
“She works for me. So what’s your name?”
Melanie dropped her sandwich to the table. “You’re kidding.
You work at LeatherWorks?”
“My family owns it.”
Melanie took a gulp of her coffee. “And you’re Brisa’s
boss?”
“More or less,” Rob nodded. Less, unless Jack had managed to
straighten things out with her, but her cousin didn’t seem the wiser. “She’s
great. What are you doing tonight? The conference starts in a while but I don’t
have to go. We could go check out a show. I think George Carlin is doing his
comedy act somewhere on the Strip…” he paused, hoping she would insert her name
into his sentence.