His Sloe Screw: The Cocktail Girls Read online

  “Those bastards. How could anybody survive this?” I looked pointedly at Lenny who had obviously made it through the attack.

  “A dozen or so of us made it out the back,” he replied, seemingly apologetic. “That’s it, that’s all that’s left. Rocky was taken down though, a bullet right in the heart. So was Big Jim. All the original crew. The club is dead, Hatch, it’s done.”

  I walked around the perimeter and could see the truth in his words. The club members were dead, faded, tattered police tape cordoned off the most of the site, and the remaining guys were scattered in the wind.

  Lenny had done me a solid by picking me up, for that I was grateful, but I realized it truly was time to start fresh.

  I would hit the road and begin a new life somewhere else, it’s all I could do.

  “You sure this old thing is gonna make it to Vegas?” Lenny asked and clapped his hand on the hood of the Ford truck I’d purchased the day before.

  “I’m not sure of anything these days, but I’m giving it a go,” I laughed. It was a beast, early nineties, army green and would be perfect for my business once I got it up and running.

  I said my goodbyes to the last couple guys who knew the old me, hopped in the truck, and hit the road.

  I had a friend from high school who had a place on the outskirts of Vegas in one of the sprawling suburbs people didn’t see when they came here to drink and lose money at the craps table.

  I rolled into town early in the morning after pulling an all-nighter. Brady was home, just getting ready for his job downtown as a dealer at a hotel…The Millennium.

  “Holy shit, you’re jacked,” Brady said, laughing as he gave me a quick hug. “Prison must be good for you, like a twenty four hour fitness club…I mean if you ignore the assaults.”

  “I was fine,” I chuckled. “I was already big enough when I got there to hold my own.”

  “You’re a fucking mountain, insane,” he said, looking me up and down. “You were such a scrawny little shit in school.”

  “Yeah, well, hormones kicked in and I started to notice chicks…and notice that they liked muscles. What can I say, I like to get laid.”

  “Excellent motivation,” he said, looking at his phone. “I have to run, but make yourself at home. I’ll see you when I get off my shift…or you can come down and meet me for drinks afterwards. There’s a great club in the hotel, especially if you like hot women.”

  “I don’t like hot women,” I said and grinned at his look of surprise, “I love ‘em!”

  He laughed, shook my hand, and hopped into his car. I jangled the keys he’d given me and started to unpack my stuff.

  I spent the rest of the day catching up on sleep, the guest room was at the back of the house and had air conditioning, thank god. I wasn’t used to having so much free time, prison was so regulated, so sleeping for the day was pure indulgence for me.

  Since the day had been a total write off, I decided to take Brady up on his offer and drive into town.

  Pulling up to the luxury hotel in my old, shitty truck made me miss my Harley more than ever. Lenny had no idea what had happened to her, and god dammit, I missed my baby.

  It commanded attention and respect, this truck commanded nothing beyond the occasional sneer or glare shot my way.

  Not that I gave two shits what any of these people thought about me, but this truck was a tool, nothing more. My bike had been an extension of me, part of me. I’d spent years working on it, customizing it to suit me, right down to the last bolt, the last speck of paint.

  I found a parking lot nearby and parked the truck, walked back to find Brady’s table and waited until he was off shift, drinking whiskey served up by a flirting blonde in a skin tight black outfit that did everything it could to show off her assets.

  I did appreciate whoever had come up with the casino’s uniforms.

  “I thought Katie was going to bust out of her bustier when she saw you,” Brady said as he strode over, his shift done. “Damn, Hatch, you must have pussy being thrown at you everywhere you go.”

  “Almost everywhere, I did have a bit of a five year dry spell,” I replied and downed the last of my drink.

  Brady guffawed and slapped me on the shoulder. “You mean you didn’t get your dick wet the minute you left that place? What the hell’s wrong with you, got a taste for dudes now?”

  “Why, are you offering?” I raised a single brow and couldn’t contain my laugh when he clued into what I was saying.

  “God, no, but I do know where we can go check out the local wildlife. I told you, the hotel’s got the best spot for it. The Little Black Dress.”

  “Little Black Dress? Damn, I hope they peel them off, I want to see more than a dress,” I chuckled and followed him as we walked out.

  “Well we could go to a strip club, but the owner manages to find the hottest girls in Vegas. For real. Besides, I get an employee discount and can get us both cheap drinks.”

  “I’m down for that. Hot chicks and cheap booze, nothing would please me more.”

  Brady sidled up to the bar and I took a seat next to him. “Two whiskeys,” he said, holding his hand up to grab the bartender’s attention.

  I wasn’t looking too hard at who was behind the bar because of the bevy of gorgeous cocktail waitresses slipping through the crowd balancing trays of drinks above them.

  Brady had been right, the owner had a real eye for beautiful women. Each one of them was gorgeous, perfect tits popping out of their black dress, make-up and hair done to perfection, legs that went on for miles.

  “You’re still drinking whiskey, right?” Brady asked and I turned around on the stool to answer him when I was struck dumb and couldn’t respond because I found myself looking into the most brilliant blue eyes I’d ever seen.

  I nodded wordlessly and let my gaze travel along the woman behind the bar, checking her out. If the women on the floor were beautiful, she was other worldly. My cock responded immediately, throbbing uncomfortably as I imagined her full, lush lips wrapped around it with me grabbing handfuls of her thick, black, wavy hair.

  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer, asshole,” she quipped and stomped away from us, irritation clear in the way she held her shoulders so tight.

  But god damn, her black dress was leather and hugged her body like a jealous boyfriend trying to hang onto her as long as possible.

  And man, what a body. She was tall, at six and a half feet I often dwarfed women, but she was probably close to six feet herself on the heeled boots she had pulled on up to her knees.

  Her arms and from what I could see, part of her thigh were decorated with elaborate, beautiful tattoos. I saw a bird from mythology, some goddess figures that seemed familiar, and symbols that weren’t your run of the mill airhead ink.

  Her breasts were full but not huge, they swelled over the top of her dress, but weren’t rock hard…they must be natural and would feel incredible under my lips and tongue.

  Her waist was small, and it curved out to a perfect heart shaped ass that nearly sent me falling off my stool when she bent down to hook up a tap under the bar on the other side.

  I heard Brady laugh and looked at him. “Oh shit, you’re a dead man,” he said and laughed again.

  “Why’s that?” I asked, barely able to keep my eyes off the woman behind the bar.

  “She’ll eat you up and spit you out. Nobody gets anywhere with Kitty Donatello…she’s the club owner’s niece and the hotel owner’s daughter. And only heir to the biggest hotel family in Vegas.”

  “She’s definitely something else,” I replied, barely hearing his words.

  All I knew was that Kitty was perfection, and I needed to find out if my kitten had claws.

  4

  Kitty

  I was starting to regret agreeing to my father’s job decision by week two in Uncle Max’s club.

  There were a few hot guys here and there, but the majority of them were there to ogle the waitresses, not the bitchy bartender.


  I know I could be nicer, but most of the time they weren’t worth it. And the couple dudes I tried to flirt with had wound up being total duds once I started to talk to them.

  One was about six inches shorter than me when he’d hopped down off his bar stool, and the other wouldn’t stop talking about his whore ex-wife, and ladies, we all know what a turn on that is. Gotta love a guy who is not only still obsessed with the woman he married, but uses language like that.

  Even dear old dad was never that crass about the many women he’d been married to, including my own mother.

  Although technically she wasn’t really his ex, she’d died so she was off limits in terms of shit talking. She was a saint in his eyes, and mine.

  I was also regretting working at the Little Black Dress because the LBD was hard work. Really hard work. And for a spoiled girl like me, it wasn’t something I was totally used to. I admired how hard the girls had to hustle to make their wages in tips.

  “Hey, sweetcheeks, give me another,” some random older guy yelled at me from down the bar. I was just starting my shift and my chosen little black dress for the day was to shock my father. I knew he’d be coming in later so I’d gone with a short leather dress that clung like a second skin and made my breasts practically fall over the top.

  “Coming right up,” I replied, gritting my teeth and pouring him another vodka, straight up on the rocks. A lot of these guys lacked imagination when it came to their drinks, which helped me since I was still learning how to mix most of them.

  “Here’s a twenty if you do something for me,” he said, holding out the bill. It wasn’t exactly generous, considering he was drinking our cheapest vodka at eleven dollars a shot.

  “What’s that?” I asked, playing along.

  “Show me your titties,” he leered and waved the bill like it was dipped in gold or something.

  “How about I give you your nine dollars in change back and you can shove it right up your ass?” I snarled, yanked the bill from his fingers and slammed the change on the counter in front of him.

  “Jeez, what the fuck crawled up her cunt and died?” he said to his friend and they laughed like they were the most clever jerks on the planet.

  So yeah, I hated my job just then and regretted accepting my father’s challenge. I couldn’t wait until the end of my shift when I could go upstairs to our apartments, kick off the knee high boots that were already hurting my feet, and soak in a nice hot bath.

  But that was seven hours away.

  I heard one of the regulars, a guy from the casino, call my name and I turned around to serve him. His name was Brady and he was halfway decent, one of the guys more interested in the cocktail waitresses than me, so it was all good.

  I smiled at him, but my eyes were drawn to the hulking mountain of muscle sitting next to him.

  I couldn’t let myself stare, but from what I could take in, he was fine as hell. He was turned away so I allowed a little longer glance as I poured the whiskeys. And I did take a look and I liked what I saw. He was tucked into tight jeans with a simple white tee shirt that strained against his bulging muscles. His arms were covered in tattoos, and his back rippled as he turned back around to face the bar.

  I threw him some snarky comment to hide my interest, the adult version of hitting somebody with a lunch kit like we did in the second grade. I polished some glassware and let my eyes wander over to take in the front of him from time to time.

  As much as I liked his fine ass, I liked his gorgeous front even more. That bulge that he couldn’t hide in his jeans, the chest that made my thoughts go all over the place, from me riding him with my hands splayed over those pecs, to how it would feel having that beast of a man on top of me, pounding into me hard and fast.

  But his face was pure perfection, he was the image of a man all the way. His jawline was speckled with dark stubble, it was strong and straight and masculine. His hair was jet black, but unlike mine, it was natural. I dyed my normally blonde locks black to add to the dramatic effect of having blue eyes contrasted against them.

  He was all natural, and all man. His eyes were dark green and shone with intelligence and humor as he talked to Brady, he also didn’t seem to constantly scan the cocktail girls like his friend.

  He wasn’t interested in them, I could sense it. In fact, and I swear I wasn’t crazy, I caught him looking at me a couple times.

  I walked back to the two men when Brady held up his glass and shook it at me, something I normally hated, but in this case I could make an exception for his exceptional friend.

  My stomach quivered with nerves when I asked, “What can I get you boys?”

  “Two more,” Brady said, turning to his buddy. “That okay for you, Hatch? You’re still on whiskey?”

  “Yeah, it’s good for now,” he replied. I handed him his glass, he took it and flashed me one hell of a smile, I felt it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and all the way in between.

  “Good, I hope you enjoy,” I said, flashing my own smile.

  “Remember my discount,” Brady blurted out. “I work in the casino.”

  “I know, I remember. Don’t worry, you won’t get charged full price.”

  “For my friend here too, I get his drinks for cheap.”

  “I’ll remember,” I said, smiling back at Hatch. “He’s not exactly the forgettable type.”

  “Speak for yourself, kitten,” he grinned and raised his glass to me, took a sip and locked his eyes on mine.

  “So what brings you to Vegas? Brady’s company can’t be the only thing,” I said, wiping the counter in front of him and doing my best to make small talk. I wasn’t ready to go deal with all the horny weirdos lining up at the other end of the bar.

  “Hey, come on, I’m a fun guy to hang out with,” Brady said, holding his hand to his heart as if I’d shot him.

  “I’m sorry, but you aren’t exactly part of the guide book of Vegas attractions,” I grinned and looked at his friend again. I maintained my composure, but damn, he was definitely messing with my mojo.

  Hatch chuckled and said, “She’s got your number, you weren’t the reason I came out here, my friend.”

  I raised my brows and waited for him to answer my question. He smiled at me as if he knew he had me on the hook and was enjoying torturing me a little.

  “I’m here for work. I’ve got a little building business going,” he said and the deep rumble of his voice left me a little breathless.

  I nodded and smiled and heard one of the customers calling for me on the other side of the bar, so I had to turn and walk away.

  It was a good thing I did though, because my knees were a little wobbly and my heart was speeding along like I’d just run a mile after speaking to Hatch.

  And on some level I didn’t like it, being that out of control of my reaction.

  But on another level, I did. I liked it very, very much.

  5

  Hatch

  I watched her slink away from us in her slinky leather dress and my mouth went dry as all the blood in my body rushed directly to my rock hard cock.

  “Wow, she didn’t bite your head off, she must like you,” Brady said and drained his glass. He turned around on the stool and took in the crowd that was starting to thicken up as the evening went on. “But seriously, look at all these women. You could literally walk up to any of them and have them tossing their panties at you the moment you said hello. That’s like a super power, dude. It’s shameful to not use it.”

  “I could use it for you,” I replied, not following suit because I still had my eyes locked on Kitty’s sexy curves. “I’ve got my eyes on one prize here, but I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot more than hello for me to get those panties off.”

  “You’ll need gin and a quiet place,” he said with a grin.

  “Gin?”

  “Panty remover.”

  “Why the quiet place?”

  “A woman like Kitty isn’t the public display type, you’ll have to get her al
one.”

  “Huh, so that’s it? I just have to get her drunk and by herself? Sounds like the making of a serial killer movie, dude. You need better advice.”

  “Suit yourself, but then again I’m not exactly good with the ladies so maybe you should ignore what I say.”

  “I think I will,” I laughed and left him to ogle the waitresses while I kept one eye on a certain bartender.

  I wasn’t sure how it was going to happen, but it would. If I wanted to fuck anything on legs the minute I got out of prison, I would have done so by now. What captivity had taught me was to relish the finer things in life and appreciate quality over quantity.

  And Kitty was worth taking the time, I could tell that by looking at her.

  “You wanna hand me that board and grab the other end?”

  I picked up a two by four and held it up to my boss, he grabbed it and slid it up against the window frame of the house we were building.

  My big plan to start my own business wasn’t exactly a roaring success, but I’d managed to pick up a pretty good gig with a construction company. I could still take on after hours side jobs once I bought a few more tools and got to know the city a little better.

  I think I had just been on auto pilot when I’d left California, hoping to leave the gang and violence behind me without much thought to what I was running into.

  “Thanks, that’s perfect,” Jorge said and picked up the nail gun. With a few sharp jolts, the board was in place and we were done. “I think we can call it a day. We got a lot finished and I’m pretty happy with your work.”

  “That’s good to hear, not a lot of people would take a chance on an ex con who looks like me,” I laughed and pulled a cloth out of my back pocket to wipe my forehead. Working outside under the Vegas heat was deadly, but it was honest work and I appreciated that.

  “That’s how I get away with paying you pennies,” Jorge grinned and picked up his backpack and started to walk away.