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 3: Arrival
Rosie Faulkner looked at the ceiling. Is this what her life had come down to? An overweight, heavily panting senior citizen, thrusting down into her sinewy body? The only saving grace was that he hadn't been fucking her for long. And he didn't look as if he was going to last much longer.
Her hands reached up, closing behind his neck, her fingers softly stroking his salt and peppery George Clooney hair. The thought of the film star suddenly changed her perspective. She closed her eyes and wrapped her feet around his heavily sweating back.
"That's it baby, that's it. Fuck me, darlin'. Fuck me, George!"
"Barry…" he corrected, sweat dropping from his forehead as he burrowed his head down against her shoulder. From the way he was grunting, he was close to either an orgasm or a heart attack.
Coming to Vegas was the start of making a better life for herself. How had it come to this? Initially, she'd signed up for the club as a dancer, not quite understanding the type of dancing required. But after a short time, she quite enjoyed it. Exotic dancing was a turn on, even though stripping may have been a more accurate description.
Some of the girls did more, of course, after Big Eddie set them up with so called clients. What was she thinking,
most
of them did—she'd been the rare exception. Not that the girls thought of themselves as prostitutes. They 'serviced' clients, not fucked them.
It was a million miles away from how she'd been brought up. And not something she'd ever consider. Not until she'd met Charlie, that was. Her gambler boyfriend had gotten himself into debt with some of Vegas's more notorious private clubs. Six months ago, he'd found himself five thousand dollars in the hole with no way of getting out.
The loan sharks he'd been borrowing from were breathing down his neck and threatening pretty unpleasant outcome if the money wasn't repaid.
From there, it had been easy to fall down the next rung. Every other girl was doing it. They needed the money. Charlie told her it wouldn't be for long, just until 'they' got themselves on their feet. So she'd started 'servicing' clients, too. Geez, she could just see her mother's face—
"Want me on top, George," she asked, getting rid of the negative thoughts as easily as she pushed back the strand of red hair from across her left eye. She slipped out from under his sweat-coated body even before he could correct his name.
Her dangling, fake diamond belly piercing caught the light as she crawled from under him and across his plump body. The image of a beached whale came into her mind and she quickly shook it away.
George Clooney
, she told herself.
George Clooney
.
Her full, freckled breasts danced as she settled herself. Just as she took his chubby cock in her hand and prepared to slide it home, another thought came into her mind. Reacting to her instinct, she jerked her body upwards, her silky wetness making a damp trail across his stomach and chest. This was strictly against the rules, but what the hell—
"Make it good and I'll finish by fucking your brains out, George," she grunted as her lithe thighs settled either side of his face. Her freckles almost bounced on her skin as she clamped them around his head.
She knew she was in big trouble if he objected. Ming and Big Eddie would both throw her out. She'd seen how cold and clinical they'd been with other girls. For a brief second, she wondered if her instinctive moment of instantaneous rebellion was such a good idea.
Then, her overweight lover stretched his neck upwards and ran his tongue across her clean-shaven sex. Yesssss—
She gave a moan as she ground her clit down onto his fat lips.
Close your eyes
, she told herself.
Close your eyes and think of George Clooney
.
George proved up to the task. His arms curled under her thighs, groping at the taut swell of her hard ass. Her muscles flexed as she rode his face.
"Fuck, baby! Yesss!" She leant backwards, resting one arm on the bed as the other circled his chubby erection behind her, still hard in her hand. She jerked him in time with her undulations.
From nowhere, her orgasm sprinted through her body, her sex drowning his mouth and nostrils in syrupy liquid. Fuck! Where did that come from? She rarely came with a punter, not even the rare good-looking ones.
The freckled redhead didn't wait for her body to recover. Still basking in the satisfaction of her climax, she swiftly moved back down his body, pressing her full and warm breasts into his sweaty chest. The overweight man had surprised her. Now for his reward.
Even as she sheathed him, her thoughts returned to her situation. Another couple of months, that's what she'd give herself. Another couple of months and she'd change to legitimate employment. God knows what.
Unless something good happened in the meantime. Tonight, she'd be a hostess at the WSOP introductory party. Maybe they'd have better-paid jobs? She snorted to herself. Fat chance. Where would she earn more money than she did now? Legitimately? With a resigned sigh, she turned her attention back to the punter beneath her. Time to finish him off.
"Come on, George," she whispered, jerking down on his hardness. "I'm gonna take you to heaven."
Three downward thrusts were too much for the old man. "Barry…" he grunted, seconds before splashing her insides.
***
The non-stop flight from London, Gatwick was circling around Las Vegas, awaiting approval to land at the McCarron airport.
It had taken a few phone calls to ensure that Grace's guest spot, and Lauren's photoshoot, coincided with Daniel's trip to play in the World Series. Even at the last minute, there was some doubt. But Demetrius's intervention had saved the day. Lauren fucked him again as his recompense. Though with a cock like his, it was her reward, really.
The flight had passed relatively quickly. Daniel had enjoyed the sister's excited chatter, and then buried himself in one of the poker books he'd brought with him. It was probably tempting fate to brush up on The Endgame, but you never knew!
Harrington's book was interesting. When he'd made it to the final table in 1995, the other players had rejected his proposal of a nine-way settlement. He'd tried to convince them this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for them to share the final table prize money. With no takers, he won the full million himself.
What were his chances of making the final table this year? His sarcastic laugh at himself attracted the attention of the two sisters.
"Talking to yourself?" Lauren teased with that sexy smile of hers. "You've gotta keep that noise down!" She nudged Grace before returning to their conversation.
They could talk! The two beautiful sisters had engaged in excited conversation for the last hour, frequently laughing out loud as they talked. And every hot-blooded male eye was on the two women. At times he felt as if he was escorting two movie stars.
Maybe they'd change their attitude if he were successful? As supportive as he was for Grace and Lauren's once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, he felt the poor relation. Neither woman cared too much about his search for destiny. It was as if they felt he was there to look after them during their pursuit of fame. And play a little poker as well.
Well… perhaps. But he wouldn't be leaving Vegas without giving it the best shot that he could. Things had moved on from 1995. Simply reaching the Final Table this year would make each player an overnight millionaire. That might just rescue his and Grace's relationship! Things had improved recently anyway -- they'd been fucking like newlyweds for the past couple of weeks.
He pulled the Practically Poker documentation from his flight bag and flicked through it. He'd been drawn to play in the second flight, on Day 1-B of the Main Event. Because of the size of the field, there'd be two Day Ones, a slight reduction from recent years.
The combined survivors would make it to the official Day Two. 'Survivors' was the right word. Stay in the race, and then the tournament really started.
***
Although she and Grace were heady with excitement, Lauren kept an eye on Daniel. He was the older brother she never had. The wannabee model was worried about Grace's confession she would have ended their relationship had it not been for the Vegas trip. She was using him.
She understood Grace's perspective. She and Daniel spent less and less quality time together. He was working long hours. So was she. In their spare time, her sister travelled to various clubs pursuing her dream. Yes, Daniel watched her whenever he could. But in between, Grace told her he was constantly playing poker.
It had become more and more frustrating for her 'big' sister.
Maybe this trip was just what they needed? A reward for Grace, for her patience with Daniel? And if she was a success in her one night's performance at
Samuel Smith's
club, perhaps that might rekindle their flame? She hoped so.
In truth, Lauren had always thought of them as an unlikely couple. Grace was so outgoing, always an extrovert, willing to do anything to enjoy herself or advance her singing career. Daniel was more laid back. Seemingly happy to see where life was going to take him. That attitude was an anathema to her sister.
The blonde stared past the excited chatter of Grace to observe her surrogate brother. His head was buried in a book. Probably about poker. Her glance shifted back to Grace's animated face. Yes, they really were an unlikely couple. It was such a shame.
Her sister's eyes flashed at her as Grace fluffed up her silky, brown hair. "You haven't heard a word!"
Lauren grinned, her deep brown eyes staring into her sister's. Grace had always been able to read her mind. "I have…" she protested.
Grace's laugh stilled her objection. "No you haven't, little sis. What were you thinking?"
The blonde sighed softly. Her glance across at Daniel told her he wasn't listening, but she leant closer to Grace nevertheless. "That I really liked Daniel," she confided, her voice a soft whisper.
Her sister pulled away for a second, turning around in the cramped seat so that she could look directly into Lauren's face. "Yes, I know. But I've told you, it's all but over, Lauren."
The blonde's eyes widened. She pushed a lock of hair back behind an ear. "But—"
Grace shook her head. Her voice lowered to a hiss. "Too late, little sis. It's too late. The fire's gone out."
Lauren's gaze shot past her sister to make sure that Daniel hadn't overheard. He was in conversation with an older man across the aisle. The way the guy was looking at Daniel's book, it was clear he'd found a fellow poker aficionado.
"Then why—"
