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Leaning in even further to ensure no one else hears us, I say, “You will be mine for the next week, starting tomorrow.”
She leans back and looks around as if she expects me to be joking.
When she sees I’m serious, she asks, “What do you mean I would be yours?”
I scoff. “Let’s skip the games, Katarina. You know what I mean. You being mine means you will stay here in the hotel with me, have dinner with me every night, and go to bed with me afterward, where I will do things to your body that will make you come harder than you ever have.”
She visibly swallows the lump in her throat before regaining her composure.
“So, you want me to sleep with you for money? Isn’t that basically prostitution? Isn’t that illegal?”
Smiling, I reply, “For starters, prostitution is actually legal in Vegas, but no, I won’t think of you like that. I think of it like we both get what we want with no strings attached.”
She thinks for a moment and asks, “Why? I mean, why me? I’m sure a guy like you has no problems finding women to take to bed.”
She’s right. I don’t. And I’m not sure how to answer her question because I don’t quite understand my fascination with her, aside from the fact that I would like to see if I can fuck that bratty attitude right out of her.
I just say, “How about this? I’ll tell you if you decide to say yes.”
She squirms in her seat a little and speaks in barely more than a whisper. “What exactly would I have to do? Are you into weird sex stuff?”
I’d love to know what Katarina considers weird, but I don’t ask. Instead, I say, “It wouldn’t be just sex, Katarina. We would spend other time together as well. And yes, we would fuck—hard. I would make you feel amazing, but I won’t ask you to go further than you’re comfortable with. I’m not a rapist.”
She taps her finger against her lip as she thinks. “And at the end of the week, you’d give me the money? No questions asked?”
I nod. “Every penny you need for your father’s debt will be yours. But keep in mind, there will be rules to this little game of ours.”
“Rules? Like what?”
“Like for starters, this arrangement stays between you and me. Secondly, for the next week, you will be mine. As I said, I won’t push you further than you’re comfortable with, but you will be ready when I call, and you will understand that every night, I will fuck you—hard and rough.”
Her face sours a bit, and I can’t figure out why. “And what if I say no to all this? What if I say no to your little deal?”
“Then, you walk out of here the way you came—with nothing but a mark on your head. I don’t take kindly to people stealing from me, so be grateful that I’m giving you options, but don’t bother going to other casinos around town. I’ll make sure they know all about you.”
Standing up, I throw a key card on the table with my phone number written on it. “If you choose to say yes, here is a key to a room upstairs. I’ll want to keep you close. If you choose to decline, it was lovely to meet you, Katarina. This offer won’t be on the table long. You have until midnight.”
Chapter Four
KATARINA
He throws the keycard on the table and walks off, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding. I may play it cool, but around Dominic Delgado, I feel anything but. The man has a presence unlike any other I’ve ever experienced.
When he came in and took me from his goon, I was terrified of what he would do to me, but I honestly had no idea where the evening was headed. Never in a million years did I think he would ask me to be his little fuck buddy for the week.
I’m not sure whether I should be offended or flattered. Yes, it makes me feel like a bit of a whore, but it’s a compliment that someone as smoking hot as Dominic wants to do the dirty with me.Plus, this whole thing seems too good to be true. My money problems could all be taken care of, and I could start over.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
The waitress walks by the table, and I flag her down, asking for another Long Island Iced Tea with cherries. She glances at the empty chair like she’s unsure if she should listen to me, clearly scared of Dominic. But when she sees the angry look I give her, she nods and walks away.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I glance at it and wish I had someone to talk to—friends, family, anyone.
But I have no one.
I’m certainly not going to call my father and tell him that his one and only daughter is thinking about pimping herself out to pay off his gambling debts. That would probably be enough to send him over the edge.
Putting my phone away, I try to weigh all my options—as if I have any. My counting card days are over since I’ll have nowhere left to do it. And even if I weren’t terrible at waiting tables, I still wouldn’t make enough to try to pay off even half of what my father owes.
