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Vegas Jackpot

Chapter Reveal

The bellman approaches the private car my brother insisted I take from the airport to the casino. I’ve been to LA, Chicago, and even New York, but there is something so different about Las Vegas. I exit the car in my black stiletto heels.

This isn’t what I normally wear, but I knew with the flight and airports people would be staring enough at me, so I decided to dress nice. I like my normal attire, and I’d like to say fuck them, but I’m representing my brother’s and my business here. My skintight black slacks and scalloped top are sexy still. The black corset has white pearls along the sweetheart top over my breasts, accentuating my small bust. The stark white jacket I’ve paired with my outfit contrasts with the black in the only way black and white can. The jacket has a wide collar and is nipped at my waist to show how small I truly am.

“Luggage, ma’am?” the bellman asks, and I nod as I lift up my sunglasses so I can take in the shaded area under the portico entrance. The Lucky Dice Hotel and Casino is about five years old, but it looks like it opened yesterday. Everything is shiny and bright. The employee uniforms are a blue with gold accents, and everyone is scurrying around to help. I look around and notice I’m not the only person here for the tattoo convention and competition.

My art isn’t a competition, but Leif said it would bring more people to come see us if they knew I was in it. I grab my roller carry-on bag that has my machines and gear in it from the back seat and pull it with my purse dropped over the handle through the doors. The bellman follows with my other bags. I’m a real girl. I carry everything when I pack, including the kitchen sink.

I step up to the counter. Even in my four-inch heels the counter is really high; I feel tiny next to it. I stand there for a moment while the clerk helps a man next to me. While I stand there, I take in everything around me. It’s cooler in here and I’m glad because I was about to take off my jacket, which would cause a stir with people looking at me. But I have to admit, I don’t feel people staring like they do back home. I grew up in Eastport, Rhode Island, but it doesn’t change the fact that people still stare at all my ink and piercings. Here they ignore me. So much so that the woman behind the counter helps the next man before me.

“Excuse me.” I start to move around the man. “I was here before you.”

“Ma’am, please wait your turn.” The front desk clerk holds a hand up to me.

Oh no, she didn’t.

“Excuse me.” I use my most intimidating Domme voice. “I believe I was here waiting before he cut in front of me.” I nod at the guy and start to hand over my credit card and ID.

“Is there a problem here?” a deep voice says, and a tremble works its way through my body.

I turn to look at the newcomer, and he takes me in from head to toe. From my dyed gray, pink, and purple hair down to my black heels. My pulse increases. My breathing comes out a bit faster. My nipples pucker and push against my bustier. I do the same to him. I look him up and down. He’s dressed in black slacks that are definitely tailored. His body is sculpted muscles under the black suit jacket. His shirt is also black. I can make out black ink coming out of the collar over his tie and at his fingers. His blond hair is long on top and shorter on the sides. It’s brushed back into a small ponytail. The color is a blend of several shades but natural looking. He enjoys being outside from the looks of the natural highlights and tan of his skin. His startling blue eyes are pale, almost a gray. He has a mustache and beard that is styled longer down his chin and short on the sides.

“Um, Mr.—”

“I believe the lady was here first.” He stops me. “I’ll help him.” He points to the guy and moves off.

My body is broken from the spell it was under from being so close to him. I could almost feel the heat, but I could also feel myself wanting to do something I haven’t done in a very long time.

I shake my head and turn back to the woman behind the counter.

“Erika Arnold. You have a reservation for me,” I tell her, but she is watching the sexy guy. He must be a concierge or security person here, but he’s not dressed in the uniform of everyone else.

The woman behind the counter finally finishes checking me in, and I felt him watching me the whole time. I turned a few times and saw him standing at a desk talking to another man. That man is dressed in a blue suit the same color as the other staff but tailored and looks more expensive than just a uniform. I’m directed to a bank of elevators, and another bellman walks with me to show me to my room. The elevator keeps climbing higher and higher. When the doors open, I’m standing in a hall with only four other doors off it.

“Is this the suites floor?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the bellman says as he passes the key over the sensor and the lock disengages. He opens the door and waves me inside.

I’m not sure if I should tell him I’m not supposed to be on the suites floor. Maybe the desk clerk was just as flustered as I was with the man in the dark suit and put me in the wrong room. I don’t want to cause any more problems, so I decide to wait until after the bellman shows me around the room. He offers to lift my luggage onto a luggage rack, but I tell him I can do that. He tells me the only way to access the floor is to flash my room key in front of the card reader, and I remember watching him do that. I tip him and wait for him to walk out before I move to the phone. I pick it up and push the front desk extension as my cell phone vibrates in my pocket.

“Yes, Ms. Arnold, how can I help you?” The woman’s voice grates and sounds like she is slightly annoyed with me.

“Um, yes, I believe there was a mistake made. I’m in a suite when I reserved a single queen room.” I don’t want to make things more complicated, but I don’t want surprise charges on my credit card when I leave. Granted my brother and I aren’t hurting for money and can afford for me to splurge, but I still want to do some shopping and need to get gifts for my bestie and her siblings. Little Raqi would love something from here.

“No, ma’am, there was no mistake. If you’d like to hold for a moment, I can have concierge explain.”

“Yes, please. I’ll hold.” The hold music starts instantly. It’s a light rock song instrumental that I like.

While I wait, I open my messages on my cell and see one from my best friend, Jas, and one from my brother.


Have you landed yet? Call me. I want to see your room.

She wanted to come with me, but her new husband wouldn’t let her as she is expecting their first child. Jasmin started working for my brother and me shortly after she lost her parents. She wanted to adopt her younger siblings so she could raise them. I’ve watched her grow, and she and I are very close.


Have you landed? When you check into the expo, be sure to give them the drawing of your final tattoo you’ll be doing.

My brother thinks I’m going to forget. He’s been on me for months about this expo. He and Jas entered a couple of my tattoos into the competition, and I was announced as a finalist and will have to tattoo someone here. It reminds me of those tattoo shows on TV with time limits and rules, except I get to pick my piece. The expo is picking the model. I have two renditions of the piece because I don’t want to give a guy a tattoo designed for a girl.

I decide to respond back to Jas instead of Leif while I continue to hold.


Working on getting into my room. There was some kind of mix up and I was upgraded. I’ll video chat shortly. Tell Raqi I miss her already.

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