This is a rewrite of 'Vegas', combining both Books. While maintaining the theme, it offers a completely different and fresh take for the main characters.
Grateful thanks go to the best editor in the world – thesoundandfury - not only for his editing, but also for the constant encouragement, suggestions, and for helping me to become a better writer.
Chapter 1: Beginnings
Daniel Stone wearily pulled into the loading dock and parked the truck by the heavy iron doors across to the right. The small, ugly concrete loading area could only cater for four trucks at any given time, but tonight it was empty. No problem in negotiating into the small parking spot.
He sighed. How much sleep had his Internet poker addiction cost him in recent weeks? Last night had been no different. And Grace's performance tonight would result in another late night. His girlfriend had a marvellous voice, though so far she'd not yet broken through into the big time. She would. That indefinable star quality meant it was only a matter of time.
Okay, country acid house was an unusual sound. Definitely not mainstream. But Alabama 3 hadn't done badly, had they?
And the sexy Lisa Welles had taken the genre to a new level. The hottest ticket since Britney Spears in her prime—and that was nothing compared to the following she had in Europe—Grace had modelled her style on the blonde superstar.
Yet Daniel knew their voices were very different. He was convinced his girlfriend's was every bit as commercial – if she could just get that first break, success was just around the corner.
The youngster's stretch as he alighted from the truck was laboured. God, his body ached. It took only a moment to open the vehicle's back door. The night workers would shortly be loading it up again for the next batch of deliveries, but that would be somebody else's problem.
Jogging across the hard concrete into the tiny depot's office, he poured himself a plastic cup of water from the machine on the wall. It would fall off soon if it wasn't repaired. It was unusual for the tatty front office to be empty. Slim would be somewhere around, he always was.
The thin owner had a fearsome reputation. Although Daniel and Slim got on well enough, the younger man was always on his guard. His employer's hard, dark eyes gave a hint of the continually scheming brain. Keep on his right side, Daniel constantly told himself.
From the stories he occasional overheard, the dark haired youngster was aware that a few of his fellow delivery drivers did after hours side jobs for Slim. God knows what they got involved in. If there was something dirty going on in this part of London, his boss had something to do with it.
Daniel was only too aware he'd be drawn into that line of work if he weren't careful. Slim had often commented on his tall, solid frame and suggested he could 'help him out'. The money would come in useful, certainly. But the crinkly haired young man was careful to distance himself from such activities. Like Grace, he had his own dream.
Stick to what he knew while he waited for a break of his own. One day, he'd become a professional poker player. He just needed a bankroll to give himself the opportunity to prove himself.
That's why he'd taken this job. A driver for one of the local delivery companies wasn't quite his ideal position. He often laughingly compared himself to Matt Damon in the movie, Rounders. In the movie, Damon took the job to earn back the money his character had lost playing poker. With Daniel, it was to make money so that he could join the circuit.
If it weren't for his girlfriend, he'd already have started down that route. Taken what he had and used it to bankroll himself. He
knew
he could make a good living. Grace didn't feel the same way. If they wanted to continue to afford to live in the cheap, rented, London apartment, they needed a steady income. He'd have to get a real job, she'd insisted.
One day he'd prove her wrong. Until then, he'd pleased her by taking a job for the Parcel Express business. When his Internet bankroll was large enough, the sky would be the limit.
He glanced around. Where the hell was Slim? He needed to sign out and make his way to meet Grace. That's when he heard the noise in the small back office. He ambled across, glancing through the small window in the middle of the badly veneered brown door.
There was just enough light in the back room to make out the moving shapes. Slim sat on the wicker chair, his head nodding slightly. He was facing away from the door. So was the naked girl writhing on his lap.
***
"Yeah, baby," the dyed blonde gasped, gyrating on his lap. She loved the reverse cowgirl position, delighting in the way her snug little pussy swallowed him whole. For a second, she closed her eyes, lying back against his chest as he fondled her huge tits.
She enjoyed her evening sessions with the businessman. He paid her well to do something she loved. Fucking. Doing it in the dark of the back office added a bit of romance. She didn't get much romance. Her groan as his hands tweaked her nipples turned into a throaty growl.
Her eyes opened again, staring into the stained mirror on the cheap brown desk in front of her. A small, bronze filing cabinet sat to their right, the three items of furniture being all the small room could accommodate.
Geez! She loved watching herself being fucked. She also loved an audience. And the young man's face peering in through the small window in the door was a helluva turn on.
"Oh, yeah," she gasped, more to the face than the man beneath her. A chance to put on a show.
She began to gyrate, moving like a lap dancer, her eyes glued on the eyes that peered through the small window. Her hips rotated in tight little circles in Slim's lap. Her hands covered his, encouraging him to mash her tits harder. When Slim began to groan, she leant forward, easing her ass upwards before slamming it back down on him again.
"Fuck, honey," the panting man gasped.
She repeated the manoeuvre. Again. Then once more.
Slim's hands redirected to her slim hips to steady himself. Taking advantage, she clutched her magnificent swells, pulling on her long nipples and showing them to the refection in the mirror. Even in the semi dark of the room, she was pretty sure the peeping tom could see.
Arching her back, she changed from her slamming, downward thrusts to circular rotations again. "Like that, baby?" she asked.
"Yeah," panted Slim.
But it wasn't the thin business owner she was speaking to. It was the face at the door.
Her hands left her tits to run through her dirty, blonde hair. So what if the roots were showing? Men found that sexy. She pulled it high on top of her head as she jammed back down on him, making sure Slim's long dick burrowed as deep into her sex as he could possibly go.
She flexed her legs, digging her feet into the linoleum as she began to bounce. Just like Tigger, her favourite cartoon character. A childish smile covered her young lips. She often thought of Tigger when fucking. Boing! Boing!
