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Darlene shrugged and continued packing, refusing to meet my eye.
“That’s why I’m going to Chicago for the summer. It’s real far from Vegas, so no one will know me. I’m taking a fake name, and I’m going to sleep with a lot of guys for money. And I’m going to make a lot of money doing it too. But after this summer’s over, then I fly back here and none of this ever happened. Don’t you get it Gem? I have to do this. It’s going to be a dirty secret, but I have to take a chance. And once I’m done, this is all history. I’ll deny it if it ever comes up.”
I stared at her shocked, as she continued to pack determinedly. But Darlene was right. She came back in the fall flush with cash, with her lips sealed. And she had plenty of money after that too.
Plus, I understood why she did it. My friend had no choices, and I’m very much in the same situation now. I’m a prisoner, being forced to work at the Billionaires Club. But now, it doesn’t feel so much like a prison anymore, so much as an opportunity – I’d make my money, and then after enough paydays, I’d find out a way to escape. After that, my time here would be nothing but a memory.
So looking back at my manager, I straighten my shoulders.
“Fine,” comes my calm voice. “I’ll take off my top.”
With that, I turn my back and slowly begin to pull the tube top down. It’s tight but finally with some wriggling and struggle, the piece of cloth tugs off and I manage to get it over my hips before stepping out of it entirely. My boobs jiggle slightly, which is to be expected. They’re huge and creamy, the tips a deep pink which look almost rose in the golden light.
I turn back to face my manager. “This okay?” is my semi-sarcastic question.
She doesn’t even blink an eye.
“Perfect,” she says. “Now, here’s your notepad, and here’s your silver serving tray,” she says, pressing the two items into my hands. “You were a waitress before, right? I trust you won’t need any explanation about what to do.”
With that, she begins to saunter off. My nerves get the best of me, and my mouth opens.
“Wait –“ I stammer. “So do I … you know, let them touch me and stuff?”
The middle-aged woman looks at me archly over her shoulder.
“Well now, that’s up to you,” she says. “But my advice is: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” And with that, she walks off like nothing’s the matter.
I turn back to survey the scene. Oh my god, the debauchery going on is incredible. The couple whom I observed before are now kissing on the loveseat, one of his big hands tenderly stroking her breasts as they enjoy one another. As I watch, one of his hands trails downwards to bury itself between her legs, and she closes her eyes and moans, parting her knees to give him better access. Holy shit, is he fingering her pussy in public?
Plus, there’s some loud moaning and panting coming from behind a potted plant. Judging from the way the palm fronds are shaking, I’d guess one of the waitresses is getting it good. And to the right, another handsome billionaire is currently leading a woman away, probably to his private suite. Her breasts sway as she casts him a shy smile, her hand caught in his big one.
Oh my god, am I expected to do all this? Am I expected to kiss, touch, and fondle if a man expresses interest? I suppose so. Darlene’s words ring in my head again. It’s just one summer, she said. Nobody will ever know after everything’s said and done with.
So I straighten my shoulders once more, and take my platter and notepad in hand. I wish Mr. Carmichael were here because I wouldn’t mind serving him. It would be fun to get filthy with a man so magnetic and handsome. But he’s not, so I have to make the best of the situation like I always do.
Chapter 10
Peter
I see her the moment she walks into the bar. Gemma’s absolutely gorgeous dressed in that ridiculous pink feathery top, but it can’t hide her assets. She’s luscious and creamy, exactly the way I like them.
The Billionaires Club is ultra-selective when it comes to women, and it’s easy to see why. After all, we get our choice when it comes to hiring, and the women often ask to come back after they get a taste of the money. Plus, my brothers aren’t bad looking, if I say so myself. What’s so terrible about getting paid to hang out and sleep with hot guys, especially if it’s an all-expenses paid ride? More than one serving girl has supported her family this way, or put herself through school with the much-needed income.
