The Strip Ch. 10

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 10: An unhappy ending

"Can I ask you something?" Rosie said to her boyfriend.

Daniel grinned. Despite his refreshing shower, he still felt worn out by this sexy woman. He wasn't that sure he was up for another 'session' right there and then. Nor did his busy morning schedule allow him that luxury. "Anything you want, Rosie," he hesitantly told her. "But I don't have time—"

Her laugh was delightful. "Oh, I could change your mind if that's what I had in mind," she murmured, crossing the room and throwing her arms around him. Her kiss was soft, loving. She cocked her head to one side inquisitively as she thoughtfully took a step away. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of how to go about this. Instead, she picked up the paper from the nearby table.

"The English lovers," she read aloud, pushing the two-day old edition of the Las Vegas News into his hand.

Ah, so that was it, Daniel thought, feeling his scalp begin to burn uncomfortably. "Rosie…" he began, then stopped. This was delicate. She'd been through enough without the need to worry her further.

She flopped down in the chunky chair. "Rosie, indeed," she nodded. "Daniel, I've told you everything about my life. I thought you had, too. You've told me about your friendship with Holly but you've never mentioned this. Why?"

His heart caught in his chest. Should he explain everything that'd happened? Or keep it simple. He and Holly had had a brief thing, but that had been a one-off. There was no relationship other than their newfound close friendship. Keep it straightforward, he told himself. "Because it's not true," he said out loud, the shrug of his shoulders not entirely convincing.

"Charlie kept things from me, Daniel," she quietly told him, her eyes looking at the floor. It was as if she didn't want to look into his face for fear of what she'd see. "I never want to be in a relationship like that again. I want us to know everything about each other. No secrets."

"I want that too, Rosie," he smiled. "We do have that type of relationship!"

"If the story's not true," she continued, her green eyes sweeping up to find his, fixing on his face now, "why would the newspaper print a story like that?"

"Why?" he nervously laughed. "Because Holly and I were knocked out of that tournament at the same time. By Doyle. It was news. And we're both amateurs. From England. So they thought they'd elaborate to make it a bigger deal. Sell more papers, understand?"

"Don't patronise me," she angrily said, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's a straightforward question, Daniel. Why haven't you said anything about the article? Couldn't you have warned me about it, rather than letting me find out by accident?"

"Yes," he conceded. That much was true. Had it not been for the grain of truth in the story, he would have told her a couple of days ago. And why the hell hadn't he confessed about him and Holly anyway? He'd told her most everything else about his life. "That was thoughtless," he said, crossing the room and taking her hand in both of his. "There's just been so much going on lately…"

"I know," she said, her face softening. "The story should be about us, shouldn't it? A whirlwind romance, isn't that what they call it?"

Daniel joined in her laughter. "Something like that. But it doesn't feel good to have anything published about my private life…"

"I know," she said, bouncing to her feet and crossing her arms around his neck again. This kiss was longer, deeper. "It's a relief to know there isn't anything between you and Holly. I guess I'm just feeling vulnerable…"

Daniel's hands on her breasts stopped her mid sentence. The formal presentations of his and Holly's Practically Poker bonus cheques were less than an hour away. They didn't have time. But somehow, those tits were irresistible.

"Mmmm," the redhead moaned into his mouth, her own hands dropping to unzip his jeans. "Someone needs attention…"

"Rosie," he grunted. They really didn't have time—

Her mouth cut his thoughts off. "No more surprises, Daniel," she told him, panting the words as her tongue lapped up and down his hardening shaft. "Think of this as your reward."

The Englishman grunted again when she deep throated him.

***

It felt like they'd been making love all night. They had—apart from brief naps. But even those brief moments of sleep had been disturbed when one or the other woman awoke and began the pleasuring again.

They'd already agreed to spend the next night together, once Lisa returned to the hotel from her Vegas promotional appearances. But with the blonde licking Grace to another orgasm, tonight seemed a long way away. How many had she had since they'd arrived back in Lisa's suite in the early hours?

She pushed her ass upwards as the climax ran through her, arching her sweat covered body so that only the back of her shoulders and the soles of her feet touched the bed. Her toes dug into the mattress and her fingers clawed at the bedclothes as one guttural moan after another faded away into the empty air.

"Two angels together," Lisa purred, looking upwards from her place at the foot of the bed. Flat on her stomach, she continued the slow, teasing movements of her fingers and tongue as if pacing Grace down from her orgasm. "You've come a long way, baby girl."

Grace let her body relax on the crumpled white sheets. God, she was sore. Lisa was right, she had come a long way, and in such a short space of time. And now she was invincible. Grace Lane—Superstar! This lifestyle would never end.

Her eyes met Lisa's. The blonde's hair was matted to her face and yet she'd never looked sexier. "God, I'd forgotten how good you are—" Grace panted, her voice sounding as raw as it felt.

Lisa tongued her way up Grace's body, leaving a meandering trail of saliva and juices on the way to her breasts. "Well, I hope I've reminded you," she murmured, licking around the brunette's lips but refusing to close in for the kiss. It was sexier to tease.

Grace's head raised from the pillow, once, twice. Each time, Lisa pulled away with a soft chuckle. "Show me your tongue," she told the brunette.

When Grace provocatively wiggled it at the teasing woman, then tried to kiss her, Lisa rolled away onto her back. With another sexy chuckle, she sat up against the headboard, dragging a sweat stained pillow under her ass. Pulled her blonde hair onto the top of her head, she held the pose while widening her bent legs. "Well, use it," she cheekily grinned. "I need that tongue again... show me what you can do…"

Grace didn't hesitate, twisting her glistening body to slide between the open thighs. A hand underneath each knee, her head dipped forward. She moaned as she ran her tongue softly over the beautiful nether lips. Only a woman's skin could feel so smooth. She felt them easily part as she slipped her tongue along them, softly lapping.

Her fingers exposed the long clit, allowing her to flick the nub with her tongue before licking it softly. She softly lapped up and down the rosy bud before sucking it inside her mouth. Lisa allowed a long moan to slip through her parted lips as she hips responded to Grace's tongue.

Reaching down with one hand, she pulled Grace's hair over her left shoulder, allowing her a better view of the brunette at work. Grace's eyes smiled upwards. She tenderly lifted Lisa's right leg and placed it over her shoulder. She'd make this the best orgasm yet. And they'd had a few.

Her fingers stroked along the soft inner thigh as she lapped at the juices beginning to flow from the aroused sex. She savoured each taste. Her eyes held Lisa's as she blew along the blonde's soft folds. They stared at each other for a good thirty seconds. Without speaking, Grace slid her tongue back to the sensitive clitoris.

Her eyes closely watched her captive's reaction to her long, circular, licking motions. Lisa looked so sexy, one hand still holding her hair on the top of her head, eyes narrowed, staring down at her over her full breasts. Her tongue flicked across her lips. Her left hand stroke Grace's head.

"That feels soooo sexy," she murmured. "Please don't stop."

She chewed on her lower lip before her head flopped back against the headboard with a soft thump. Her eyes closed in satisfaction at the gentle pleasuring. Her throaty growl was sexy. The sudden arching of her back and hips gave her lover a clear indication she was eager for more.

Grace slid her tongue between the megastar's juicy folds. Lisa gasped. Both hands clutched for Grace's matted hair, running her fingers through the knots. The brunette rotated her face on the wet, swollen lips. Her nose undulated against Lisa's clit whilst her hard tongue began to fuck the beautiful blonde. The free flowing sweet nectar warmed her face.

She lifted Lisa's second leg over her shoulder as she increased the pace of her tongue fucking. Lisa tensed and moaned. Grace knew the signs.

Her tongue jabbed and twirled faster. Lisa's back arched higher. She gave out little animalistic yelps as the first spasms overcame her. Her hands tightly gripped the crumpled white sheets either side of her as she ground her sex into Grace's wet face. The brunette's mouth went for broke, her hands sliding under the trembling buttocks as Lisa began to spend.

She lapped at the blonde's juices until the trembling body began to calm. Slithering upwards, her cum-soaked kiss was eagerly accepted as the blonde's full, succulent lips meshed with her own.

"Did I show you what I could do, then?" she asked, referring to Lisa's earlier directive.

"Fuck yes," the blonde groaned, pushing a loose bang behind Grace's ear.

"Good," the brunette responded, "but I haven't finished yet!"

She backed away, pulling Lisa with her. Adjusting their positions, her legs scissored Lisa's, their thighs sliding along one another. She watched Lisa watching her, the woman's surprised gaze locked on Grace's almond coloured eyes. That was good.

Slowly and precisely, her hips ground against Lisa. The blonde gasped. Labia met smooth labia, gliding softly together with a low purr from each woman. Their clits found one another. The friction was sensational, but Grace wanted more. She reached forward, taking Lisa's peach-like buttocks in her hands and rocked her hips faster. The megastar took the hint, thrusting and grinding back.

"Oh, yesss…" Grace hissed as they fell into an amazingly satisfying rhythm.

Lisa's hands dropped to Grace's hips. Her polished fingernails dug in, making sharp indentations. Both women gasped loudly. Grace's clit slipped up the other woman's oily sex, brushing against the blonde's.

It was like setting a flame to a fuse. Without breaking the soft press of sex-on-sex or her vice-like hold Lisa's ass, she used her one free hand to pull the woman's mouth to hers. Their kiss was wet and loose, too hard to maintain but too good to let go.

Grace wailed as she reached her climax, releasing the blonde and pulling her tightly into her arms. The smell of sweat and girly cum on her body was intoxicating. Her firm breasts compressed deliciously into her own. Grace felt Lisa's small yelps of pleasure against her neck as she climaxed, sending her deeper into her own orgasm.

It took a while for the shuddering of their entwined bodies to abate.

***

"It's Carly," Rosie told her boyfriend. They'd just been about to leave Daniel's suite when the call came through on her cell phone. "You go on ahead, I'll catch up."

The Practically Poker presentation for their achievements in the Binion's tourney was taking place in twenty minutes. He couldn't afford to be late. That wasn't the only reason Rosie allowed him to leave without her. He knew Carly was a good friend of hers, but he didn't know the full story. Nor was he aware of how much she owed Big Eddie.

Better not to allow him to overhear their conversation.

Those thoughts made her grimace. Hadn't she just lectured Daniel on the need to be completely open? Why hadn't she confessed the amount of her debt? She convinced herself that she hadn't wanted to burden him. It was nothing to do with the possibility of it damaging their relationship…

She took the call as the door closed behind Daniel. "Hi," she greeted her friend, "How's it going?"

Carly's sigh answered before she spoke. Something was wrong! "Er… are you free to meet?" the spiky haired woman asked.

"Sure… when?"

"How about fifteen minutes? We can—"

"I can't, Carly," Rosie interrupted. "Daniel has a presentation right now. It's important. I'm heading there with him." She paused, waiting for Carly to respond. Something wasn't right. She just knew. A feeling of dread ran through her. "What is it, Carly?" she nervously asked, pulling away from the door and walking back to the centre of the room.

The pause seemed to last a lifetime. "Big Eddie," Carly said at last, her tone reluctant.

The redhead knew it in her bones—he wanted his money. "What about him?" she panted, already aware of the answer.

"He's passing your debt back to the loan sharks," the spiky haired brunette lied. It was all she could think off to re-engage Rosie in talks with the gangster. She'd promised Eddie she'd bring the redhead back in to see him. That would cement her position as his lover and confidant. She surprised herself with her genius at times. "We gotta talk."

Back at the door, Rosie leant against the frame. The feeling of faintness running through her made it difficult to stand unaided. "I'll meet you this afternoon," she slowly answered, her voice a trembling whisper. "Say two o'clock? Starbucks?"

***

"Eddie," the African American's deep voice drawled into the phone. "Thanks for taking the call. And please accept my condolences about Desmond. Terrible that. A man going about his own innocent business..."

The sarcasm wasn't lost on Big Eddie. The gangster could barely contain his rage. It was one thing, Samuel Smith having the gall to phone him. But if the bastard had called to gloat…

"I know you were behind it," he spat, unable to hold himself back. A voice in the back of his mind was telling him to stay calm and collected. But the red mist was already descending.

"Me?" Samuel Smith asked, his amused voice rising in mock-surprise. "Now, Eddie, please correct me if I've got this wrong. But as I understand, word on the street is that he was busy fucking somebody's girlfriend when he shouldn't. And the boyfriend got annoyed. Well, you would, wouldn't you?"

"That was nothing to do with it—and you fucking know it," the gangster snapped.

"Really?" the deep voice cut in. Smith was enjoying this even more than he'd anticipated. "That's the way it seems to me. To the police too, I believe. Of course, then there's all that explosive they found in the boot. Rumour has it he was on his way to set fire to somewhere, Eddie. Now, who d'you think that was aimed at?"

"I know nothing of any explosive," Big Eddie growled menacingly.

"Is that right? I'm sure you'll be able to explain that to the cops when they visit you. What with Desmond being you're number two 'n'all."

"The cops can do the same as you," Eddie shouted, spittle flying from his twisted lips. "Fuck off."

"Not nice, Eddie, not when I rang to help you."

"Help me? You?" snorted the gangster. "Listen, you bastard. "You think I don't know you took him out? Just understand one thing, Smith. I'll pay you back. I'll get even."

"Now, now," Samuel Smith's soothing voice told him. It was like taking candy from a baby. "That's no way to talk, Eddie. Not when I've called you in an attempt to put an end to all this stupidity."

The gangster wasn't fooled, but the words momentarily stilled his anger. Find out what the bastard had in mind. Then use it against him. "What d'you mean?"

"Well," the deep voice said, purring like a car in neutral. "I've been thinking, Eddie. Clearly, we can both do without all this trouble. So let's look for a win-win. I mean… things are going so well for me… I'm expanding all my business interests. Whereas, you're on the way down. In a hole. Why don't I buy you out? Why don't I buy Midnight Hot?"

Big Eddie's calm disappeared in a nano second. His blood pressure hit the danger zone. "You fucking bastard," he shouted, completely out of control. "Mark my fucking words. I'll get even. Just fucking wait! You'll see—"

***

"This isn't quite what I was expecting," Daniel whispered to Holly as they stood to the side of the small platform. The young Practically Poker representative had been droning on to the assembled throng for a good ten minutes, extolling the virtues of their site.

"What did you expect," she asked, out of the corner of her mouth. He seemed unusually nervous. It wasn't like her crinkly haired friend.

"Not as many people as this," he softly said. "I thought there'd be a few. They'd give is our cheques… take a photo and that would be that. I didn't expect half of America's press to be here. And that they'd have laid on a spread. It's like a like Vicar's tea party."

Holly's laugh rumbled in the back of her throat. "I doubt they'd know what a Vicar's tea party is," she said. "And don't they usually take place on the lawn?"

Daniel grunted. At first Holly thought it was a flicker of a smile that crossed his face, but his gritted teeth told her she was mistaken.

"Look at them," he complained, feeling his anxiety rising. Rosie was standing near the door. Her face looked white. This 'English Lovers' story was affecting her more than he thought. "There must be at least a dozen people from Practically Poker," he snapped. "But the rest are from the fucking media. All after the same fucking story!"

Holly held back the giggle. She hadn't heard the Englishman curse before. It added a raw edge to him. She liked it. What she didn't like were the photographers present. Keeping her shades on provided some anonymity. Pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail had been a good idea, too. Changing her features from soft to hard would make it difficult for anyone seeing her in public to recognise her in any photographs.

The soft ripple of applause drew their attention. The Practically Poker whiz kid had finished his spiel and was waiving them up onto the small stage. "Ladies and gentleman," he beamed, turning yet again to pose for the photographers. "Let me introduce the cream of England's poker players. Only a fluke hand by the legendary Doyle Brunson deprived them both of the chance to win their first much-coveted bracelet."

Turning to them, he made a point of vigorously shaking Daniel's hand and kissing Holly's cheeks. It took all the blonde's willpower not to shrink away. She didn't mind the smell of garlic… but that was overpowering.

"At their first attempt," he continued. "How about that?"

Daniel glanced over at Rosie as another smattering of applause broke out. She was smiling now, too. That was better.

"Incredible to think our couple travelled all the way from London together," he said, handing the oversized cheques to Daniel and then Holly. "And," he continued, "If you read the papers, are about as close as its possible to be. Let's give them a big round of applause."

Daniel felt his heart sink. His eyes glared at the man with the microphone. You stupid bastard, they told him. The self-congratulating beam on his face indicated he couldn't read the Englishman's expression.