This is the saddest city in the world. It's glittery, shiny and bright when you're coming in over the desert and see those lights. But once you're here, you realize that nothing is real. Its nothing of what you think it's going to be. No thrills. No instant non-stop party. And once you realize this, that's when the loneliness sets in.

I've been here for a good six months, and all its done is made me sadder.

I say this as I stand by the window of the hotel room, looking out as the night is slowly dying. The lights of Vegas seem duller compared to the indigo mauve haze of the pre-dawn sky. The sky is calm and clear. Calm and clear. And still, I can't sleep.

I tightened my big white robe around me and walked over to the bed. It was going on five a.m. I still had a few more hours until I had to get up and clean the same kind of rooms I was sleeping in. Double shifts here at The Clarendon. There's no point in even going home.

The Clarendon was my uncle's baby, and from now on I'll be using the term "uncle" loosely just because a) he's only an uncle by marriage and b) he's an asshole. Anyway The Clarendon was supposed to be a new, small, luxury "exclusive" hotel. "Uncle" Bernard had a dream that this could be a place where celebrities could come and throw down thousands of dollars a night while they gambled in the casino in high privacy. The general public wouldn't be able to get in. Everything would be V.I.P. Compared to the other places we're pretty small but we've got a spa, a club, a restaurant, casino and bar. Everyone who works here seems to have at least two jobs and zero lives. He lets those who work double shifts (like me) stay overnight in the rooms from time to time if their commute is long. In all actuality, he just wants to keep people from calling out, knowing how hard he works us.

So far he hasn't been able to attract the ritzy clientele he'd wanted, but his personal oath of privacy at all costs has appealed to horny businessmen who want to hide from their wives and porn moviemakers who know that they won't be bothered. And as for the latter, they bring in a lot of business with their mini conventions and film festivals so they pretty much have free run of the place. What goes on at The Clarendon, stays at The Clarendon is my uncle's own personal motto. There's a lot of testosterone in this place and I've witnessed it firsthand as a cocktail server down at the casino.

We all have to wear these showgirl outfits with our asses half hanging out. I hate it but I get decent tips, which is flattering because the good-looking girls get the best tips. Thinking about it, I'd say that I could qualify as one of those although I'm no raving beauty. I'm about five-six, and have a newly bronze tan from the desert sun tinting my smooth caramel complexioned skin. I have long thick brown hair with honey brown highlights that I wear in big loose waves. You know, the style where your hair is basically straight with a lot of body and big voluminous waves towards the ends. (This is all the Hollywood craze right now, think Monica from friends in the last season).

I have big brown eyes with long lashes and full pouty lips. My breasts are full and firm yet supple C cups, a little more than a handful. (I've always been told that I had a nice rack). I have a short torso and a small waist with wide flaring hips and a flat smooth stomach. My curvy ass is now firm and tight since Bernard insists all the cocktail waitresses work out at The Clarendon's fitness center to stay in shape. He told me that my ghetto booty (which jiggled just a little when I walked) was a no no. So now I'm taut and firm, from my shoulders, and arms to my thick tight thighs and curvy strong (and surprisingly long for my height) legs.

So I do the cocktail waitressing in the evening, and right before that I clean and maintain rooms and sometimes perform room service in the afternoon. The tips are admittedly pretty good. I had asked for concierge duties when I'd first gotten here and probably would've gotten them too, but my uncle came back to me saying "You're not ready yet. That's a big thing. Let's see how you do with this. Besides I've got enough desk staff for now." I think his evil assed bitch of a wife had something to do with it. Since she manages the cocktail girls, I think she wanted me under her thumb. She hated me as soon as she met me. For what reason? I don't know.

My uncle wants a haven for the rich and famous and the prices reflect that. The people who do check in can afford pretty nice gratuities. And horny lonely businessmen melt right in the palm of your hand if you flash them a nice smile. The porn guys are surprisingly not as sleazy as you would think, and they are even less vulgar than the CEO's.

However, if my mom knew where I was working now, she'd be rolling over in her grave.

The phone rang just as I lay down in bed, "Hello?"

"Hey kid. What's going on?" my stepfather Phil said, his gruff timbre forcing a chipperness in his voice that I knew wasn't really there. I remember when he really used to be happy. Phil was a big gruff teddy bear, always smiling. But since mom died he's lost an alarming amount of weight. There was a time where I had to practically force-feed him.

"Phil. You don't have to keep calling me this early. It's inconvenient."

"Not for me. I just want to make sure you're alright. I never get to talk to you anymore. At least I know you're up right after your second shift. Besides I haven't spoken to you in a couple of weeks."

"I'm gonna be coming back home to visit really soon Phil. Are they giving you anymore hours at the plant?"

"I'm on my way there now."

"Are you eating right? Do you have enough money for food?"

"Things are looking better Mali. You don't need to worry as much."

"I always worry."

"You're just like your mother." I could hear him smiling on the phone. Meanwhile I was tearing up. I missed her so much.

"You know you can always come back home. And not just to visit. To stay."

I thought of going home. God how I would love that. It was just a goal that seemed so far away right now even though it was so simple. I was planning on going to college right when mom started getting sick a few years ago. But I put that off to take care of her and because I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate with a terminally ill mother. Now I was twenty-four years old and was parading my feather-covered ass around at night for tips, and cleaning up yucky beds covered with god knows what that the human eye can't see during the day. This is what my life has come to.

"Who's gonna help with mom's doctor bills? The mortgage is through the roof. You know I'm not gonna make any real money in Colorado like I'm making here. Where am I gonna work? Taco Bell?"

Things were tight with money back at home with Phil being off of the police force for a good year now. He left after mom passed away. It was too much for him, dealing with the pressure of being an officer while simultaneously dealing with the loss of my mother. At least if she were here, she could keep him centered and grounded. But when she died he suffered an intense depression and there was a period where he couldn't do anything. Now he's just barely recovering eight months after her death. He's not my blood or anything, and he didn't exactly raise me since I was a baby (he and my mom were married for about eight years) but he's been around long enough so that I really care about him. And I know he cares about me and would do anything for me. He just can't right now and I understand. I don't call him dad but he's my father and I need to make sure he's okay.

The force was too high pressured for him so he retired early and cashed in his pension, which dwindled, away rather quickly with all the medical debts incurred from my mothers cancer treatments. I had to postpone going to college again and help him pay the bills so that we could at least keep the house. However, there wasn't really anyway to make money back home so that's where my stepdad's brother came in.

Months ago he made this job sound like heaven, easy money, fun while at the same time making it seem like he's doing his little no money making brother a real favor by hiring his stepdaughter. So far nothing's been heavenly, easy or fun. I have to deal with his bitchy trophy wife who wants to pretend like she has some kind of skills other than laying on her back when she calls herself "managing" the cocktail girls. But hey, this is better money than what I could be making considering my skills and education.

Phil's been so depressed, and he became so sick after mom died. He took part time work, or whatever work he could get in order to help make ends meet. However, he wasn't going back to the force. He didn't want to.

So it was just he and I now that mom was gone, and I wasn't even there. I felt so bad all of the time for that, hoping that one day I wouldn't get a call from Colorado about him hurting himself or.

I don't even want to think about it, yet I was as I spoke to Phil.

"Phil you know I'd come home if I could right?"

"Yeah. I know. And I'm sorry I have to put you through this. I've always told you, I can drown on this ship alone-"

"Don't talk like that!"

He chuckled roughly. He had a deep raspy voice, and he hardly looks like the sensitive type, ready to crumble when his wife is gone, but he is.

"You'll do better when you feel better. Are you taking your medicine?"

He sighed, "Yes."

"Therapy?"

"Once every two weeks."

"Okay then."

"You know Bernard talks about me to the rest of the family. Says black people don't go to therapy. Says I'm crazy."

"Screw Bernard." I said my blood boiling when thinking about my asshole of an uncle. If he weren't my boss I would've already let him have it. He thinks he so much better than everyone else.

"How's he treating you?"

"I hold my own."

"If he's mistreating you."

"Hey Phil, I think I'm gonna get some sleep okay?"

"Oh, right. Of course. Well I've got to get going anyway. "

"I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay." He paused a minute, "I love you Mali." This was something we rarely said to each other. Our household was never much for emotion. It seemed strange, him saying this.

"Is everything okay Phil?"

"Yeah, I told you it was."

"Don't lie to me."

"I swear," He laughed. "Damn can't even tell my own daughter I love her. You gotta say those things when you can. You never know what will happen. "

"You're scaring me Dr. Phil." I chuckled nervously, hoping that I was being paranoid.

"Well, it's true. Anyway. Have a good rest okay?"

"Okay Phil." I started to put down the phone when I realized what I had forgot. I put it back up to my ear, "I love you." It was too late. He'd hung up. ".too."

Now I knew what was making me so sad about this city. It reminded me of Phil. Back home he's putting on the bravest face, smiling and laughing and joking, and before this tragedy that's the way he used to be. But now, inside, he's empty. And people can tell. He used to have so many friends even right before my mother died but his front didn't fool anyone once they got close. They visit him because he seems like a nice place where everyone wants to go, but once they get there, there's nothing but emptiness and bright lights. It's lonelier than they expected. So they leave.

I won't.



I sat at a vanity table in the common dressing room skillfully applying my makeup. My costume was already on. We had to wear a pale pink yet subtly shimmery body suit, which was strapless and pumped our cleavage up to the max. It had a Brazilian cut bottom instead of the usual bikini style that is typical of Vegas girl costumes. I didn't have to worry about keeping my bikini area shaved but my ass sure hung out. We wore ultra sheer pantyhose and muted silver open toed stilettos or high-heeled shoes. Accenting the costume was also a very subtle headdress, which consisted of a silver headband and moderately sized delicate pink feathers that matched the costume perfectly. These same feathers were also on our ass and we wore a choker which was a simply a band of fabric consisting of the same subtle shimmery material as the bodysuit. One thing my uncle's nasty little bitch of a wife did was pick nice costumes. They were sexy but not outrageous.

Tonight I had my hair parted at the side and pulled back into a chignon knot. I was adding baby pink eye shadow and liner and translucent pink lip-gloss. My silver chandelier earrings with pink stones complimented the outfit.

"Ooh, someone looks hot tonight," Alyssa joked as she sat next to me, nudging me with her elbow. I smiled. It took me a long time to get used to the backstage culture with me being so quiet and serious. I'm saying this like we are actually on a chorus line or something, but this cocktail waitressing gig was pure performance from beginning to end. Fake smiles, perfect struts in suicide heels, flirty laughs and pretending like you didn't want to blow your brains out. Anyway though I didn't quite fit in at first because of my serious morose mood, our hate of Anita brought us together. They like the way I occasionally put her in her place when she goes too far. Although lately, I've had to do it far too often for my taste. Anita burst in the room like a line backer although she looked nothing like one. Anita was from someplace in South America, I didn't exactly know where, but her accent was grating. She sounded like a crazy assed Salma Hayek and I'm not busting on Latin accents I just hate hers and her voice. She was my height only with a slimmer build and bigger boobs. She had to be a full D cup. She had an impossibly tiny waist with wide hips and a surprisingly supple shelf cut ass. The tight red dress showed off every curve and the bountiful cleavage of Ms. Perfect.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" She said tossing her long black hair off of her shoulders. Everyone froze, some rolling their eyes. "You must be in and ready fifteen minutes before your scheduled shift." She walked around the room eyeballing the girls as she practically shouted, "That means dressed and ready!"

I shot her a look that would kill only if life was fair.

Alyssa saw this. She put a hand on my arm and shook her head. I understand because sometimes you had to pick your battles, but my day was only half over, while this hussy probably woke up out of her booze induced stupor a mere few hours ago. I was not having it.

"Can you tell time?" I swirled around in my chair. She froze in the middle of her diatribe to narrow her brown eyes at me. "What did you say?"

"It's a whole half hour before the shift and you're yelling at the wrong girls. Why don't you wait fifteen minutes to yell at the girls who are really late.oh wait. You won't do that. The only girls who do really come late are your own personal 'recruits' right?"

The girls snickered and exchanged knowing smirks. Anita was livid. "Listen you little tramp. Just because you are the boss' niece does not mean you can get away with speaking to me that way. And speaking of which, you are only his niece by marriage."

She used any dagger she could to try to turn the tables, but everyone in there knew that I'd never gotten any type of favoritism especially not like the girls she hired.

"So what's your point?" I shrugged.

"My point is that I am Bernard's wife, and I am also your superior."

"You're not superior to anyone in this room. In fact it's the very opposite-"

Alyssa interrupted, for mine and everyone's own good. "Anita I have a question. Last week I worked some overtime but it never showed up on my check."

Anita looked her up and down like she was the trash that cluttered common gutters. "That is what is wrong with Americans. Especially American women like you Blondie. No work ethic."

"But I worked overtime! What are you talking about?" Even Alyssa was losing her patience.

"You're lucky you got paid at all!" She stomped her high heeled clad foot.

"Oh this bitch is crazy." I muttered under my breath.

"You do not know what it takes to be a success. In my country I placed very high in the national beauty pageant. And it wasn't just because I am gorgeous."

I could've sworn I heard a groan from somewhere in the room.

"It's because I have the right attitude. I know what it takes. Maybe one day if you try hard enough and pray long enough, you can turn out to be a success like me."

I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"A success like you?" I scoffed, "You placed twelfth in that bootleg assed pageant."

"Who told y-no! You're wrong! I was runner up! How would you know anyway?"

"Your only success has been fucking the boss and tricking him into marrying you. And don't even get me started about what you think you do around here."

"You little bitch!" She started towards me but I was ready on my feet with Alyssa standing in front of me protectively. But what could've happened didn't. There was a knock on the door.

Someone opened it quickly. It was good old Uncle Bernard making an attempt to shade his eyes and pretend he didn't want to get an eyeful of young women dressing. But we were all decent.

"Anita, the Conford Corp. party is here. Stop wasting time so we can meet their CEO." Bernard had to work hard to kiss ass just to keep steady clientele and spread the word about The Clarendon. I had no idea why he needed Anita to help him do that, but I guess making a good impression included him showing off his trophy wife.

"Bernard, your bitch of a niece-"

Bernard sighed and stopped shielding his eyes by now, "I'm tired of this Anita. Stop this childish arguing with the girls and come on." He wouldn't even acknowledge that I was important enough to be called by my name. He always tried to make some big show of acting like it didn't matter that we were related. But he overdid it to the point where I became more anonymous and alienated than anyone else on the entire staff. He never made eye contact or thanked me for a job well done, or even addressed me by my name, if at all. With the other girls he at least pretended not to be an asshole.

"But she-"

"And stop calling them bitches, I cannot afford the negative buzz that a lawsuit would bring."

Shit that's the tamest way we're humiliated on a daily basis. A lawsuit on the other stuff would straight put him out of business.

Anita gave one last look at me over her shoulder. Then she gave a little puff of air and composed herself.

"Okay baby. Let's go meet them." She took his arm and looked back at us spitefully, as if her prince in shining armor had rescued her from a life among peasants.



Everyone was abuzz about that CEO from Conford Corp. People were walking on eggshells. Seems like he could do a lot for The Clarendon. I just didn't know exactly what. All the other waitresses were warning me that my uncle and Anita were on the patrol. If we were even less than our best for a minute, we'd get chewed out. I was hoping that I'd never have to meet the bastard. Probably a middle aged potbellied white guy with an undercover fetish for S&M. After awhile they were all this way, especially when the porn conventions were in town.

If he was anything like his employees, then I really didn't want any part of him. They were running around the casino and the bar talking loud and cursing in their suits and ties, pinching asses. It was horrible.

I ran into Alyssa, who's fair skin looked flushed.

"Hey Aly, what's wrong?"

"I just had to show that big shot guy to his room."

"Was it that bad?"

"I just didn't know how to deal with him!" She said, her green eyes widening.

Damn, what kind of asshole was this guy anyway?

"Why'd you have to show him his room?"

"I was told that we're short staffed tonight."

"As always."

"And Mr. C thought it would look good if one of the girls working the floor would cater to him. Thought it would make him feel special." She flipped her flaxen hair back as she widened her eyes again, "Uh oh. Mr. C. is coming. I'm getting away before he asks me to do anything else."

Before I could ask her what exactly this CEO guy was about she'd scurried away. I couldn't even scurry with her because Bernard was calling my name. It startled me because I didn't even think he knew it. And technically he didn't.

"Molly!"

I turned on my heels. "It's Mali."

"Right. Anyway I want you to do some room service."

I rolled my eyes, "But Bernard I'm on the clock as a waitress right now. I did all that stuff on my first shift. I don't feel like changing."

"I understand but we need someone badly and right away, plus you don't have to change. Mr. Austin can't be waiting."

I had a bad feeling about this, "Is it that CEO dude?"

"As a matter of fact yes. He's in the penthouse suite in the east wing, and they've got his order in the kitchen. No, remember." He said, "Don't be afraid to be extra friendly to Mr. Austin. It's very important that he enjoys his stay. Anyway I'm sure he tips well. "

Yeah? Well I was sure he was a jerk.

"Just do me this favor."

"Why me?"

"'Cause you're the only one who knows room service well. Plus you're looking way better than the other girls tonight. Really taking pride in your work. Like I said I want you to keep your cocktail outfit on."

That was the closest thing to a compliment that I've ever gotten from this man. He only speaks to me when he needs me.

"Fine but tell your wife to get off my back. She's being a real bitch."

"You know how Anita is. Just humor her."

Humor her? She got some girl fired two weeks ago just because she didn't like her. If she pressed hard enough my Uncle did whatever it took to shut her up. I walked away from him and towards the kitchen.

As soon as I had my serviceware all ready to take to the penthouse, Anita stopped me in my tracks with one of her own personal recruits at her side. Unlike the other girls she hired, Lola was a nice girl. She was actually close to thirty even though she looked no more than eighteen. She was as cute as a button, especially when she spoke in bad English.

"Is that going to Mr. Austin's apartment?"

"Duh."

"Well consider yourself relieved of this assignment. I'm going to have Lola do it."

"Why the change?"

"We need someone who can really represent this hotel up there."

My blood boiled, I knew Anita was just being a bitch. "Does she even know room service?"

"I taught her!" The psycho practically screamed. "Now stop questioning me!"

She was only being this way because she knew Bernard handpicked me. But who was I to argue with the petty bitch? I didn't want to go up there anyway.

"You need to lower your voice when speaking to me." I told her.

She walked up to me, her face only inches from mine. "You think he picked you because you're actually good? No. This was a test. I've told him about your attitude with me. You're on a thin string that's ready to pop." She snapped her fingers. "Now consider yourself lucky that you don't have to do this. Lola will be taking this room and you better not interfere you tip hungry bitch." With that she walked swiftly away. She was a coward. She knew she was about to get her ass served to her on a silver platter, that's why she walked away so fast.

I was left with Lola in front of me who looked as meek as a kitten.

"Mali." She said in a strong accent similar to Anita's. "I don't speak English so good. I'm afraid."

I was angry and was about to tell her that it wasn't my problem, but Lola was merely an innocent party caught up in the middle of our feud, and I knew she didn't know room service like Anita had claimed. Anita doesn't even know all the procedures for room service.

"Well I don't know what to tell you Lola. You heard what she said. And if I try to even show you what to do she'll think I'm trying to take your tips." That egotistical idiot would do anything for spite; even send this poor girl who barely knew English, upstairs to the big leagues. The penthouses. I don't even know how Lola was taking drink orders with her nervous demeanor and her bad grasp of English. If Anita were left to run this place on her own, that self-proclaimed "success" she rubbed in our faces earlier would be laughable. She would fall right on her face.

"You do Mali. You are good with it." She pleaded with her big sad eyes.

I sighed. "Lola."

"Please. I cover down here. I make tips. For next hour my tips are yours and you keep upstairs. I hide from Ms. Anita. She won't know. Please." She had just as much to lose as I did. If she went upstairs and screwed up, Anita wouldn't cover for her or take blame. And if she were caught not doing what she was supposed to she'd still get in trouble. Well not actually. I'd be in more trouble than her in the latter situation. Anita would use that to spin the whole story around, as if I were the one who bullied Lola into giving me the job.

But the girl was begging me. I could just see her getting sent back home with only a plane ticket and the clothes on her back. If she was going to lose she might as well take a risk instead of knowing for certain that going upstairs was a train wreck just waiting to happen. Then again, though I have no idea whether she just wanted to psych me out or not, if Anita was telling the truth about Bernard testing me I'd better try to toe the line. I needed this job. For Phil.

"Are you sure? It probably won't be that bad." I said, then wishing I'd taken back my words. The man had Alyssa all red and flustered. What would he do to poor Lola?

"Never mind. Anita is probably too busy snorting coke off of the table in Bernard's office to notice what's going on."

"Que?"

"I'll do it okay. But try to stay out of Anita's sight. If she catches you on the floor just tell her that you finished and everything turned out fine."

She nodded. And with that, I was off.



I took the service elevator all the way up, which meant that I had to knock to get in the apartment.

"Room service!" I yelled as cheerfully as I could muster, but there was no answer. Tentatively I touched the handle. The door hadn't been all the way shut. I stepped inside with my cart.

I called out, feeling a little strange. No one was answering. I went into the living room. There was a man standing by the window biting into an apple as he read one of my all-time favorite books, "The Fundamental Principles of Business". Basic, simple, classic, yet still very relevant. Oh I didn't mention that in one of my wildest fantasies, I pictured myself going to Harvard Business School? Yeah. Like that was gonna happen. I could barely even get into community college in Colorado.

Why was this guy reading standing up? And where was Mr. Austin? Certainly this couldn't be the monster everyone was describing. He was five foot eleven, maybe pushing six feet. His build was toned but solid. He was somewhere in between slim and buff. He had almond brown clear skin, and large bedroom eyes with long lashes. The muscles in his strong jaw gnashed as he chewed on his apple. His hair was cut very low and everything about him seemed neat, from his razor thin side burns to his slight goatee. The only thing off was that his white button up shirt was untucked and partially unbuttoned at the top, revealing a wife beater. His tie was loosened and hanging limply around his neck. He had a diamond stud in his ear for god sakes, and he wasn't wearing any shoes. He had looks more like a famous hip-hop/r&b singer than some business honcho.

I just stood for a minute trying to figure out what was happening. If this wasn't Mr. Austin it sure didn't seem like an intruder (even though the door was left open). No one had the keys to the elevator except me. You had to turn several keyholes to get to the penthouse in a coded succession. Also, this guy, though looking rather unkempt was dressed in expensive designer business wear. Maybe he was Austin's assistant.

"Hello?"

He didn't answer or even look up. He just kept eating that damned apple as if it were the most exquisite piece of produce known to man.

"I have your room service order here."

Nothing.

"Hello!" I raised my voice.

"It's about time." He finally said in a deep satiny voice and a mid-west accent. "I'm starving. Did you have to actually kill the cow tonight to get my filet mignon?"

"Is this for you?"

"Who else?" He asked putting his book down and throwing the apple core in a nearby wastebasket. He sat down at the glass dining table and brushed off his two hands by brushing them against each other. During this whole time he barely looked at me until I hesitated with his food.

"Well?" He said looking me up and down. "What is it with everyone here? Dressed like playboy bunnies instead of like real hospitality staff."

"So you're Mister Austin?" I asked like an idiot.

He scrunched up his face in disgust, "What's wrong with you? Of course I am. What are you slow?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Austin." I stammered, my face flushing.

"Oh don't tell me you're a little prejudiced too huh? Can't believe I'm a CEO? You need to free your mind," He told me as I placed his food in front of him. I'd made a mistake but that didn't mean he had to speak to me so condescendingly. "I mean you're a sista yourself aren't you? And if you're not you should still know better. The damned owner of this joint is a black man."

"Well you're not exactly what I'm used to." I admitted. "For one thing you look young."

"I'm twenty-four."

"You are? So am I!" I said a little too more chipper and surprised than I wanted to come off.

"Oh goody!" He clapped his hands together and rolled his eyes. Now I could see why they thought he was such a jerk. He was one of a kind. Not the grabby, bordering on sexual assault kind, but the self-aggrandizing asshole kind.

I didn't care how important he was, words kept tumbling out of my mouth when know that I just should've left.

"The girls are saying you're really difficult."

He chuckled as he cut into his steak, "Yeah? I guess because they keep throwing ass all over me and I'm not falling for it like those idiots who work for me."

"Are you gay?" If my uncle found out how I was talking to this guy he'd have a stroke.

"For one thing I'm engaged."

"To a woman?"

He shot me a dirty look.

"That never stopped any of these guys before."

"Well sluts don't mesmerize me."

This guy was really getting under my skin, "Sluts? Talk about being prejudiced."

"Okay." He said looking up and talking in between chews. "Maybe you're not exactly one of the sluts. Maybe this is just a costume and a job for you, but these chicks are really looking for more than tips if you know what I mean."

I laughed so hard that I snorted, "From you? You really think you're the shit don't you?"

He smiled, the first smile since this whole encounter and I had to admit that it was kind of disarming. "Baby girl, I know I'm the shit. Just like you probably know you are."

From an asshole to practically flirting? Weird.

"Was that a compliment?"

"Hardly. I just call them like I see them. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders but I can tell you think you're off the chain."

"You have some nerve. You're the one fighting bouts of narcissism. Well maybe you're not fighting it."

"Hey, I've got the total package." He said leaning back, "Smart, successful, handsome, sexy.say I'm not and you'd be lying." He flashed that million-dollar smile again. He could've been some hot A list celebrity. Instead he was running one of the fastest growing corporations in the country.

"Okay, so why are you reading 'Fundamentals' if you're the corporate genius?"

He looked at the book on the table. "Oh, you noticed that?"

"It's one of my favorite classics. I've always wanted to major in business. Start my own. Maybe consult for a few years."

"Really?" He said getting serious. "It's still one of my favorite books. Keeps me grounded."

"Really? I would've thought that you'd need a book heavier than that." I quipped.

He smiled again, "Why don't you have a seat. Have a glass of champagne before you have to go back downstairs and shake a tail feather for tips, Funny Girl."

The right thing to have done would've been to decline, but somehow I felt my ass making contact with the chair across for him as he poured me some champagne.

"How'd you get here? Why haven't you gotten that degree in business yet?"

I shrugged, "Not as much of a prodigy or as lucky as you've been."

He shot me a look, "Not saying you've been lucky but, I've been contending with some difficult hardships for the past few years."

"Oh yeah? Tell me about it."

I was surprised at how attentive he seemed, but before I told him my story, I had to ask one thing, "Are you Marcus Austin?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You know my full name?"

"Marcus David Austin Jr." I said, my memory fully jogging, "You keep getting mentions in articles in all of the journals and mags I read."

"Wow. You are serious about that business thing. You do know me."

"Well I know about you. They didn't do any life stories or serious profiles. Otherwise I would've really known who you were." I said sipping my champagne.

"Well, maybe we'll start on my life story after yours."

This time he got me to smile. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.



Before I knew it, I'd been up there with Marcus for almost an hour. I'd told him about my mother's death and how I was helping Phil. I'd told him about my shady assed uncle and his psychotic egotistical wife. I'd told him I was unhappy.

"So, what do you wish you could do right now, instead of being here? What would you do with your life?"

I thought about it for a minute. I don't think I've ever had to answer that question before. "I'd go home. I'd take care of Phil. I'd get a real job. I'd visit my mother's grave."

Marcus stared at me for a minute, as if he were trying to figure me out, "That's all you want?"

"Yep. Right now that's all I want."

"Seriously?" He asked half smiling. "That's all you want?"

"If you were stuck on a desert island without food or people for a week, or a soft bed or a nice shower what's the first thing you'd want?"

"Damn." He frowned. "Is it really that bad here for you?" He gave me this sad look of pity as if it hurt him just as much as it hurt me. For a minute I was embarrassed. I looked away.

"Just reach a little bit deeper. What do you really want?"

"I'd have to be realistic. Even though it seems like what I want seems impossible."

"Okay," He said smiling as he stroked the hair on his chin, "Let me be the judge of that."

"I want to go home. I want to get Phil healthy again and get him working. I want to pay off my mom's medical bills. I really wish I could find a job that would help me pay the mortgage. I want to graduate. Start my own business."

"What kind?"

"I live in the heart of the Rockies. I'd open up some wilderness store. When I was sixteen, and Phil was about to marry my mother, he took me white river rafting and camping to ask for my blessing. He'd love that kind of store." I started smiling, seeing Phil behind a counter explaining to some wannabe adventurous city folk about the difference between class two and class four rapids.

"You want to know the craziest thing about your dream?"

I scrunched up my eyebrows, "What's that?"

"It ain't so crazy."

I smiled. We were both startled when we heard the buzzer for the private elevator.

"Someone wants to see you." I said as he went over to the intercom with small television screen. I looked over his shoulder and saw something that made my stomach queasy.

"Shit." I whispered. "Anita!"

"Mr. Austin," said that grating accented voice as she mugged for the monitor's camera, her cleavage in full view. "Can I come up? My husband set up this little meeting for tonight."

"Oh right." He said, "Yeah." He pressed the release button for the elevator. She was on her way. The turbo fast elevator would be up here in less than forty seconds.

"NO!" I yelled. "I am NOT supposed to here!"

"Calm down."

"You don't understand," I said quickly explaining to him the situation with Lola.

The elevator's bell had rung. She was here. "Hide!"

I ran into the room right off of the living room and closed the double glass doors covered with silk curtains. I stood by the wall behind one of the doors, peeking through. Anita came in a short tight aqua and cream printed cocktail dress with spaghetti straps that showed off her cleavage. She sauntered over to him in high strappy shoes and touched his face, brushing her fingertips across his cheek. Surprisingly I felt a twinge of jealousy. What was going on here?

"Ms. Clarendon, I remember Bernard mentioning that you wanted to meet with me.but I wasn't sure of why? He was saying a lot of different things but I didn't quite understand what we had to talk about."

She put her arms around his neck, "You know a lot of people. You have so many connections. Bernard and I have so much faith in you and your brilliance. We know that you could help us bring in the right clientele, and get us linked up with the right politicians to really help bring The Clarendon up to where it needs to be."

He smirked, "Tired of catering to asshole businessmen like me? Wanna serve asshole celebrities?"

She laughed coyly, "Oh Marcus."

"Want me to hook you up with Nevada politics too huh?"

"I'm sure you've heard of that pesky little zoning thing we have to deal with."

"Yeah. I know all about it," he said pulling her arms from around his neck.

"Well even though you're technically here on business, and are probably very busy, I'm sure that we, especially me, can convince you of someway to take some interest in our fine establishment. I'm sure that I can." She slid her hand underneath his shirt pulling up his wife beater, caressing and exposing his finely toned abdomen. I bit my bottom lip as I wondered what the rest of that body looked like.

"How are you going to do that Ms. Clarendon?"

"I think I could find a way, " She said moving her body into him and pressing her lips to his. I almost gasped aloud. So this is why Bernard always wanted her to "meet" his associates. He wasn't just bragging about some pretty South American young thing, he was putting her on the stroll. His goods on display. Showing these "businessmen" that he would do anything and everything to accommodate them, even if that meant sharing his wife. Those sick fucks no doubt got their rocks off on this very thing.

I felt sick, sliding to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. I knew they were not the nicest people in the world and that they had all kinds of issues but I didn't know this kind of thing went on.

"Ooh." She said walking over to the table where we were sitting just moments ago. "Two glasses halfway full? Did you have company?"

"I guess you can say that. Would you like some champagne?" He offered earnestly. I couldn't figure him out. I couldn't figure if this was disgusting or intriguing him. I mean he had let her kiss him but he had an absolute poker face. And he was being proper and polite.

Anita poured herself some champagne and downed it with incredible speed. "Umm. Good."

"In a rush to get buzzed?" Marcus asked.

She smiled flipping her hair back, "You make me nervous. Very nervous. And I'm not that type at all."

He laughed, "I can tell."

"It's exciting." She said walking over to him and pressing her body to his once again staring up at him and looking into his eyes. This was making my blood boil and I don't know why.

That's when she pulled him close and kissed him. This time I could see ready participation among his part. His hands encircled her tiny waist as they kissed, smacking lips and teasing tongues. Then something amazing happened. I could see him, staring at the door I was behind, staring at me as he kissed her. His gaze intense and sensual. I could feel my clit tingle a little. He was putting on a show for me.

She pulled away from him, "Well, I can see that you'd love for me to 'convince' you to help us. Why don't we go into the bedroom." She led him away and out of sight. I was confused and a little angry. What the fuck? Was he taunting me or just teasing me? Was that look a signal to flee? I didn't know what to do. They'd been in there for a few minutes but by the time I considered hightailing it out of there I heard a voice say, "I'll be right back."

I saw his legs walking from the right, and then him approaching the room I was in. My heart pounded as he opened the door.

"What's going on?" I whispered.

"She wants to fuck."

"Of course she does. I thought you weren't into sluts?" I said getting to my feet.

"Well maybe high class ones. Why do you think I proposed to my fianc‚e?"

I frowned. This was not funny.

"Fine, you wanna hit that even though every man this side of the desert has struck oil, you go on ahead. But I am out of here."

"Not so fast." He stood in front of the door.

"What are you doing? I'll have to hurry up or I'll get into trouble."

"But if you don't stay, you'll get into even more trouble."

"What?"

"When she first came in, I wasn't really interested even though I was a little surprised at first. This happens to me all of the time. I wasn't shocked."

"I was."

"Well like I said, I wasn't really in the mood but then I was thinking about you while I was kissing her."

So it was true.

"And I was thinking about how you hate her and she hates you.and."

And?

"It would be so hot if you and she."

"I KNOW you're not suggesting what I think you are?"

"It'll be painless. Very."

"What? Are you crazy? I'm not a lesbian."

"Honey, every chick is a lesbian. Besides, you won't have to do much. I just want to see how this plays out."

"If she sees me up here, she'll freak. Period. She'd never do anything with me."

"Well she won't see you. For one she's all tied up and her eyes are covered. And I asked her if it would be cool if my anonymous lady friend joined us for some action. She seemed a little anxious but she's excited. She's a freak for real. But anyway, she won't be able to see you or even attempt to with her arms tied."

"You don't get this Marcus. I don't want to!"

"Okay. Fine. Maybe I'll just go in there, and tell her who this other girl is, and that she was up here doing room service and that."

"You wouldn't."

He stood there, a figure in the half dark and shrugged.

"Just when I thought you weren't an asshole." I said trying to stop myself from crying like a child. "You wouldn't make me do this if you weren't."

"Hey." He said touching my face, "Don't be such a baby. Do what I tell you to do, everything will be fine. I won't even touch you. Besides. Getting your pussy licked by a beautiful girl isn't the worse thing that could happen."

Maybe not. But it's never happened before.



When I walked into the bedroom I saw a naked Anita spread out, her body more near the foot of the bed than the head. Her breasts were heaving, her nipples hard knobs. Her thighs were spread and her pussy shaved clean. She did look sexy, I mean if you went for that type of thing. Her eyes were covered with Marcus' tie, her wrists tied together and resting above her head.

"My friend is here Anita."

"Oh please let me see her."

"Nope. That wasn't the deal. She's not talking either."

"That's not fair!"

"Rest assured. She's sexy. And all you need to know is that she's going to use you like the slut that you are."

I made wide eyes at Marcus. He was brutal, but she seemed to like it.

"Oh yes baby, that's the way I like it. Like a dirty little slut."

I had to stop myself from laughing. If she knew I saw her humiliating herself this way she'd absolutely die. And that's when I started to feel my clit harden and my slit moisten. I have control over her, even if it is only through Marcus. Her toned smooth body lay on the bed, her muscles taut as she arched her back. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all, though I didn't really have a clue of what to do.

I felt Marcus behind me. He whispered in my ear, "Tell me you've never fantasized about another woman before?"

I bit my lip. She did look sexy. And she was about to do something she would always regret, even if she didn't know it.

Marcus sat down in a chair near the bed, "Straddle her face. I want your pussy inches from her face."

I saw Anita licking her lips, "Umm.you sure know how to take charge Papi."

I still had my bodysuit on, and as ridiculous as it sounds, my feathered headdress also. However he told me not to strip. I unbuttoned the crotch of the suit as he sat back, head resting in his hand, just watching intently.

I slowly slid the clingy material up over my hips with my round ass facing him. I could feel his gaze boring into my back. Yep. He was watching me. I crawled on top of the bed and carefully threw a leg over Anita's face. My trimmed pussy was mere inches from her face. I could feel her breathe on my sensitive skin.

"Go ahead," Marcus said, "Lick her Anita."

Anita moaned and smiled, then lifting her head up and sticking her tongue out to slide it against my slit. I almost jumped from the sensation. Her warm tongue ran up and down my slit as she moaned and wriggled her hips on the bed. When was the last time I had any kind of sex? Had to be over a year ago. I had too many things on my mind to even date.

I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing as she wriggled the tip of her tongue into my slit, but I couldn't control a slight moan escaping my lips.

I didn't even know my eyes were closed until I heard Marcus' voice, "See I told you girl." He said, stroking his thick long brown dick in his hands. I gasped upon seeing it, dying to lick my lips. I swear I felt myself drooling from the sight of him stroking his dick and the sensation of Anita's skilled tongue digging into my core.

"Aaahhummph." I groaned as I locked eyes with him and Anita tongue fucked me, nudging my engorged clit with her nose. He was staring into my eyes, looking at me. She was there, but she was a prop and she didn't even matter. Marcus Austin was a cold unemotional bastard, and it was hard to move him or get the best of him. But I was turning him on.

I began to rock my hips back and forth and moan as she pulled her tongue from between my wet tight walls and began to press her hot little tongue against the glands of my clit. She was enjoying this just as much as I was with her moaning and writhing on the bed. My juices were all on her face and chin. I slid down on her face more, pressing her tongue into me harder as it made friction on my clit. Oh god, this felt so fucking good. I arched my back and slid one of my tits out of my outfit, tweaking the nipple as I humped her face.

"Yeah, just like that baby," Marcus said still clutching his tool. I could see his tip, slick with precum. God, I've never sucked dick before but I was so horny that I imagined my tongue licking up every little bit.

Anita, who had been dragging her tongue through the fluffy folds of my clit, began languorously licking the tip, driving me absolutely crazy. I closed my eyes and gasped. She knew what she was doing, so much that I got carried away and reached for one of her big round globes. I squeezed the firm yet pliable flesh, thumbing the nipple and rolling it between my fingers. I used my other hand to play with the other one, just skimming the tip of her nipple with the palm of my hand, getting it hard and feeling the fully erectness of it graze against my skin. She moaned into my pussy.

"Now you get it." I heard Marcus say.

"Oh Marcus!" She yelped, "Her pussy is so good! Her touch is so wonderful!"

"I told you to have faith in me."

"If you won't let me see her at least let me touch her. Besides my arms are tired."

Marcus looked over at me I suppose as if to ask for approval, which is weird because he was the one calling the shots.

"If she lets your hands go you better not even try to peek or everything's off. In fact I'll do my damnedest to crush you, your husband and your hotel like a bug under my shoe."

"I swear, just let me touch her pussy."

The thought of her fingers playing with my pussy was an intriguing one. I hoped Marcus would let her wrists be untied. And if he did, I hoped she'd listen.

He gave me the nod and I reached behind me and undid the knotted silk scarf. Once her hands were free she was immediately stroking my skin, rubbing my ass, caressing the thighs that straddled her head.

"You're so soft. And thick. That ass is so round." She squeezed my cheeks hard, sinking her fingers into them, her nails pressing into my skin. Then she gave both cheeks a slap, pulling me down on top of her face even more. The pleasure became a hundred times more intense as I felt myself literally dripping on her face and neck. She reached between my legs and slipped a finger inside of me. Then two. She slowly began to finger fuck me as she said nasty things to turn me on. My clit was on fire. It wouldn't be long before I'd be ready to cum.

Marcus stood up, his dick pointing straight ahead. He kneeled on the chest that was at the foot of the bed and grabbed Anita's ankles, pulling her ass to the edge and her head from between my legs. I was almost angry as he pulled her face away from my pussy until I saw what he was doing.

"Get back on her face," He ordered as he grabbed his dick and teased her big hard clit with his slick thick mushroom shaped tip. She gasped and grabbed both of her breasts. "Ooh yes Papi, put it in me. Put that dick inside me baby."

"You want this?"

"Yes." She moaned as he lined his tip flush with her pussy. I covered her face again and felt her use her fingers to pull apart my lips, giving her better access to my clit. She stuck that hard hot tongue out and began to lazily flick my clit. I felt my walls tremor deep inside. God this was so hot.

Marcus and I locked eyes again as he pushed his way slowly into her. I heard the squishy sound of his hardness pushing into and against the walls of her wetness, and saw it slide slowly in. Shit. I imagined how that dick might feel inside of me, stretching my walls, hitting bottom. I imagined holding on to him as he rode inside me deep. God, I was so close to cumming it wasn't even funny. He bit his bottom lip as he slowly worked her over.

"Ohhh!" She yelped. "Oh yes, oh shit. Fuck me.You fuck me better than Bernard EVER could!" She took a break from licking me to finger fuck my cunt as he stroked in and out of her slowly. I could see her juices on his slick cock. I was so turned on.

I reached up and pulled the rest of my outfit over my head, threw my feathered headdress on the floor and began to touch my titties as she fucked me with her fingers. Marcus stared at my body, making me feel even more naked than I already was. I saw him mouth the word, "beautiful" as he began to thrust inside of her harder, shaking the bed. She yelped in surprise. "Oh! Yeah. Like that. Harder Daddy!" She went back to licking my clit, this time rapidly flicking her tongue on my tip. My legs tightened and just when I thought it was over, she immediately stopped, and dug her tongue into my core again, then sucking on my lower labia. She teased me, knowing I was close, but wouldn't let me get to the destination. Fine. I would make her want to bury her whole head up my pussy. I would make her cum before me.

I surprised Marcus and myself when I leaned over her, sliding our naked bodies together as I got into the sixty-nine position.

"Oh shit Mami, what are you about to do to me?"

As Marcus fucked her I kneeled near her pussy as she licked me, watching his dick go in and out. Shit. I bent my head down, and for the first time in my life tasted pussy. I slid my tongue over her big hard clit and she screamed, "YES! Fuck, YES!"

Marcus was turned on too. I felt him grab on to the back of my head as I took my time tasting her. Oh God this was so good. I'd wanted to make her cum fast, but I was too busy reveling in the feel of her fluffy hard little clit on my tongue.

Marcus began to fuck her faster, and I looked up to see this animalistic look on his face. He was sprung. He thrusted in her fast and spoke dirty, "Yeah lick that dirty little slut's clit.yeah."

It was almost too much for Anita. She pulled her face from my pussy and started to dig her fingers deep into me with one hand, while using the fingers of her other to press and rub against my clit.

"Oh shit, yes, make me cum. Yes!" She cried. We both did our damnedest. Marcus pumped hard and I flicked the tip of her clit rapidly. Shit. I felt myself coming as she rubbed and tapped the tip of my clit, fucking me deep inside with her fingers. Yes. Her fingers were going faster, faster, faster.

Oh shit. We moaned together in unison and I began to give broad long licks, from her clit connecting all the way to the ever moving shaft of Marcus' dick. Going all the way, and all the way up as I looked into his eyes. This seemed to blow his mind. He gave me a surprise look as he grunted animalistically delving himself deeper and deeper into this girl.

She was screaming and fucking me ferociously by now, on the edge. I went back down to concentrate on her clit. Flicking it rapidly. I felt her flick the very tip extra fast with her fingertip. I matched the speed with my tongue watching Marcus ream the shit out of her.

I felt something like a tickle, deep within me, growing and growing like a small spark burning into a flame, then a fire, then an inferno. This wonderful warm feeling spread until it was a feeling I could no longer control and then it reached its most pleasurable point as I felt the walls of my pussy contract along with my uterus. I came long and hard, screaming into her pussy as she gushed girl cum all over his dick and my face. She thrashed beneath me in ecstasy, never letting up her assault on my clit. We came together and the room seemed to spin. I was literally seeing stars. I rolled over from on top of her and flat on my back onto the bed. Even if I had wanted to move I couldn't.

"Shit, I'm cumming," I heard Marcus say. He pulled out of her and crawled to her head, squeezing his cum out on her face and lips. Instinctively she held out her tongue, catching drops of his white jizz and letting it mix with her spit as it dripped from the corners of her mouth. Damn. This girl was something else.

I watched his face as he finally came, his eyes rolling up into his head, his whole body relaxing. It was so sexy.

I was so excited when he leaned over me, his face close to mine. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he just whispered, "Get your stuff and go back into the other room. Now."

I did as I was told even though I still didn't even want to move. I went and waited until the coast was clear.



By the time I left the penthouse my shift was ending. There was no way I was going back down for a couple of more hours of slinging martinis. I was sweaty, unkempt and smelled like sex. Marcus had given me the very same white work shirt he was wearing, a baseball cap and shades while my costume was hidden in a duffel bag. In this disguise I managed to sneak down to my room undetected.

I'd thrown all of my clothes off and took a long hot shower. That's when my I began to feel remorse about the night's activities. How could I do that? I let a man I hardly even know force me to have sex with a woman I hated. A woman. I was so confused. I remembered Marcus' words as he whispered in my ear earlier, "Tell me you've never fantasized about another woman before?" I scrubbed hard and long as if to wash away memories of the sensation of pleasures she gave me. I tried to forget my wanton lust as I watched Marcus stroking his big hard pulsating dick. Damn. He made me do things and felt things I've never would've otherwise. I even began to feel jealousy when I first saw him kiss her and I don't understand why. I barely knew him and he wasn't my type. He was an asshole.

What was I thinking? I was supposed to be here, suffering, scrimping and saving to help ease the pressure of Phil and Mom's monumental debts. I should've been downstairs tonight, with pinched toes and an aching back, pretending that I liked flirting with depraved businessmen or listening to pompous pornographers lecture me about film and cinematography when their most prestigious film is named, "Interracial Gangbang 14".

I knew there were girls who partied, lived wildly, treated this job only as funding for their sinning in Sin City, but I wasn't supposed to be one of them. I was the resident ascetic of The Clarendon. I hardly ever went home to my small apartment to enjoy time away from this place, I never dated, rarely drank, and rarely went out and partied. I didn't buy new clothes or go out to eat. I had a plan, and that plan was to suffer here, until I could at least help to make a dent in the financial situation back home. Being a slut wasn't apart of the plan.

I got out of the shower and lay down, still in my robe when there was a knock at the door. Paranoid, I cautiously approached the door considering pretending that I wasn't even here. When I opened the door it was Lola. I wondered how she knew what room I was in when she came in wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"I try finding you to give you money." She extended a hand with a fist full of bills, "And to say thank you. I didn't see Ms. Anita all night. You won't have to worry."

"Did anyone at all notice I was gone?"

She gave me a look like she was mulling this over, "I don't think so. Maybe not tonight, but next time if you leave for long time they will."

It's true. I was gone for way more than an hour. I pushed the hand that held out the money back towards her. "I was gone for hours. There's no way I'm going to take that money you earned."

"But."

"No, go home okay? It's getting late." I pushed her out of my room just as the phone rang. I growled as I shut the door. Nothing but distractions.

I picked up the phone, it was Phil.

"Phil, what did I say about calling so late? You don't have to." I said with an edge of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to check up on you."

"But you called yesterday."

There was silence until he said, "Okay, sorry I bothered you. Have a good night."

I sucked my teeth, more angry with myself than anyone else including him, "No wait Phil-"

It was too late. He'd already hung up. Damn. I took out my bad feelings on someone totally innocent. If he even had an idea of what I did tonight he'd freak. I was no better than a prostitute. Well at least prostitutes got paid. I should've just left after giving Marcus his stupid food so that I could go down to get some real tips. Some big spender Bernard was raving about, he didn't even tip me for the room service, though I suppose he never even had a chance to. I jumped up off of the bed and threw Marcus' shades, hat and shirt off of my bed, when I saw something fly away from the shirt and onto the floor.

Intrigued, I got up to investigate. There was a wad of money clipped with a rubber band. It must have fallen out of the pocket of Marcus' shirt. "If you wanted to tip me for room service, you should've just." I counted the money. There were twelve crisp one hundred dollar bills. On a really good night I could probably only make almost half as much as this.

I lay down again, confused, anxious but ultimately tired. My whole body was sore and I could barely keep my eyes open. Whatever drama occurred with Marcus Austin had now ended, and I was at least very grateful for that.



By the time my afternoon shift had come around I'd put the previous night's events out of my mind. Even Anita had taken it easy on me so far. And by take it easy, I mean she totally avoided me. I was up and at 'em, and I already had cleaned ten to fifteen rooms by the time the evening spun around. I'd gotten a page on one of the two-way radio the hotel gave certain employees. And since I pretty much did whatever was needed whenever my shift was up, I'd gotten one of these too. I was getting a page for a room service request. I sighed, used to the quiet solitude of cleaning people's rooms when they weren't around. Plus, now I had to change. When cleaning up rooms or doing the grunt or maintenance work at the hotel you had to wear a Clarendon staff t-shirt or some big frock cotton thing with snap buttons and the hotel's insignia. But for certain positions more professional attire was required. Room service personnel had to wear this specific French blue work shirt with black slacks or a black skirt with black shoes. I'd had on my pressed French blue button up shirt just in case this happened, but I still had on jeans and sneakers. A quick trip to the locker room amended my uniform, as I opted for a fitted black skirt and black Mary Jane wedges. I'd had my hair parted at the side and pulled back neatly into a ponytail. I'd quickly added some mascara and lip-gloss and I was ready.

After getting my cart prepared I set off on the elevator to start my delivery. I'd made a call on the radio, "Am I gonna be doing this the rest of the night because twenty-third has several more rooms to hit."

"It's covered," Answered the scratchy voice back through the walky, "we need you here."

"Okay, over and out." I was kind of hoping for the solitude of making beds but oh well. Things were looking up today. So I had an off night yesterday, so what? I'd recover. I'd call Phil, avoid Anita, and would stop doing favors for Lola. And most important of all, I wouldn't have to deal with Marcus Austin.

Until he got on the elevator, that is.

I gasped as he entered wearing a well-cut suit. Not for business though. It was one with an open collar that didn't even need a tie.

"Well, we meet again."

"When are you going to leave LV?"

"Why? You want me to go that bad?"

"You're psychic. Looking through crystal balls, is that how you first made a buck?"

"I'm gonna call you F.G." He said smiling as he stood close to me, shoulder to shoulder, "Funny Girl."

I winced. I remember him calling me that last night.

"I'll have to give you back your shirt. I think you left some money in there."

"Of course I did. That was for you."

I turned on my heels, "Well why couldn't you just give me it like a human being? And why was it so much?"

"I didn't want it to seem like I was.you know 'leaving money on the dresser', so to speak, you know after what happened between us last night."

"Twelve hundred dollars for 'room service' and you think you're not treating me like a hooker? If you think anyone else who knew that would believe otherwise, you're crazy."

"Was that too high of a tip?" He smiled. I rolled my eyes, "Look, you can have your money back. If I had it on me I'd throw it in your face."

"I thought we were cool." He said as he leaned on the button panel's emergency stop button. "Whoopsie." The elevator came to a screeching halt.

I was livid. "What are you doing?"

"I made a mistake and nudged that button right there."

I balled my fists up, "If you weren't who you were and if my uncle wasn't constantly tossing your salad then I'd be able to do what I wanted to right now."

"What do you want to do to me Mali?" He smiled leaning back against the wall of the elevator.

"Hurt you."

"Oh, that sounds good."

"Fuck you."

"Hey, what happened? I thought we were all good. Seriously."

"Are you crazy? You force me to fuck my uncle's wife and you think 'we're all good'? You can't be joking?"

"Oh that." He laughed as he took off his jacket.

"Yes that. And I did think we were cool until you played me."

"You liked it Mali. I wouldn't make you do anything you didn't like."

"You don't know what I like."

Marcus laughed again, "After last night. Yeah I think I do." He stared at my expression and began to crack up. I hated him so much.

"You stupid-"

I started to punch him in the arm repeatedly, "Hey, hey!" He grabbed my hand. "Don't get mad at me. You said you'd do something to me right now so do what you want."

"I was. I was beating you up remember, and I don't care if these cameras see!" I pointed to the camera in the top corner of the elevator.

He shrugged, "Those cameras aren't going to be fixed until tomorrow morning. I talked to security about that earlier. They are all broken in every elevator in the hotel."

I narrowed my eyes, "Okay big shot. You either paid or had my uncle disable the cams in the elevators but for what?"

"Just in case I ran into you. See, we could talk and not be interrupted. Plus you wouldn't have to worry about anyone knowing you had any association with me since you weren't even supposed to be in my room last night. Hope a crime isn't committed because no film will capture it for the next twelve hours."

"What is your problem? We are not friends and slutty girls don't turn you on unless they are high class so.I know you don't want me."

"Are you calling yourself a slut? Because if you are you'd better prove it." He said, reaching down and grabbing his bulge. He was already hard. "I know what you wanted to do Mali. And I just wanted to see if you were 'bout it 'bout it like you were last night. I have to admit," he said moving forward, brushing his fingers against my face. "You did surprise me. I thought you were Miss Prude or Miss Innocent."

"Well," I said, hoping that my skin wasn't flushing as I thought of last night. "You proved to me and yourself that I'm the kind of slut you don't want or respect."

"Nah," He said using two fingers to undo my top button, exposing the cherry red bra underneath and my cleavage. "Anita is the type of slut that I don't respect."

"How do you know that these cameras are really not working?"

"I think just like you, I'm thorough. I double check." He grabbed my waist and lifted me up briefly to push me against one of the elevator's walls. I could do nothing but stare at him intently as he undid every one of my buttons. I was breathing heavy, shuddering, but he was calm and cool.

He leaned into my exposed neck, his whole face nuzzled there as his hands braced himself on the wall behind me. I felt his warm breath on my skin. I was melting. "What about this room service?"

"Who do you think ordered it?"

His soft skin of his lips brushed against my skin. I waited for wet hungry kisses but there was none. He looked up at me, into my eyes as his hand reached into my open shirt and he began caressing a bra-clad breast. I felt my nipple getting harder, straining against the fabric as I pressed into him, his smell his warmth. I wanted him to kiss me so bad. I moved forward to do this when he moved his lips toward my ear. I waited to feel his tongue lick the sensitive delicate lobe, but instead I felt his breath tickle the side of neck, its warmth filling my ear as he whispered, "I know what you want to do Mali. You've wanted to do it since yesterday. "

"What's that?" I hissed, my voice too husky with lust to speak.

"Suck me off." He leaned into me. I could feel the hard cock that rested against his thigh press into me. I almost licked my lips at how bad I wanted it. I imagined it in my hands, in my mouth. I don't know why since I've never given fellatio before. My past boyfriends would hint at it but I'd never want to do it. My excuse was because they didn't work hard to do anything to get me off, so I never felt the desire. But of course now thinking about it, Marcus had barely kissed me, barely touched me, now he wanted me to suck his dick?

The funny part is. I wanted to. "I've never done."

"Shhh," He said into my ear, "From watching you last night, I can tell that you're quite intuitive. Do what feels right. You're hungry for it. Taste it." He whispered in my ear. God what he was saying was so sexy, until he added this part, "Just watch your teeth."

I reached down for his belt buckle, slowly undoing it as he watched me intently. Then I undid his zipper, reached inside of his pants, his boxers. Then I'd felt it. The one thing I'd been fantasizing about ever since I saw him stroke its almond shelled brown hardness in his hand. I felt the warmth, the hardness yet the fleshiness of his shaft. I thumbed his tip and rubbed the area around his little slit. I put my hand back in and reached down to cradle his balls. This was just a start but there was so many things that I did want to do to him, despite all of the hatred I had of this man. I wanted to see his toned muscular body fully naked. I wanted to touch every part of him, kiss every part of him. Damn. I just wanted to kiss him, but for some reason, he hadn't let me yet. I looked up at him, he was half smiling half serious with anticipation. I had his full attention as I pulled his cock out which stood straight ahead.

I slid down the wall of the elevator still holding his stiff rod. I rubbed the tip against my lips, pushing my tongue out to slowly swirl around the tip as I stroked him up and down.

"You're doing good so far.yeah. Just like that."

I looked up at him to see him hovering over me, looking down with his hands pressed against the wall. "Yeah, this is what I wanted. This is what you wanted too."

I began to lazily lick the underside of his shaft as I cradled his balls. I heard his breathing get deeper and saw his eyes close in appreciation. I had him.

"Do it. Just do it baby." He wanted me bad. The rational Marcus Austin would never use terms of endearment. At least not with me. This made me so wet. "Put it in your mouth."

And I listened, because I couldn't wait any longer. I closed my eyes and slipped my wet salivating mouth over his throbbing cock, making sure I didn't nick him with my teeth.

I groaned in instant gratification as I began to suck on him, moving my head back and forth, massaging his shaft with my tongue. I grabbed and stroked his balls as I drooled all over his dick, egged on by his heavy breathing and grunts of ecstasy. I was doing all right. Back and forth, sucking and slurping as I methodically caressed and squeezed his sack. I pulled up off of his dick until just the very tip was in my mouth, and began to suck and tongue his slit.

"Yes, yes like that baby. You know how I like it."

I started to flick the tip of his dick as if it were Anita's clit as I smiled, looking up at him.

"So sexy.so sexy." He bit his bottom lip. Though he'd said this, he'd pulled himself out of my mouth. I knew he couldn't be this close to cumming that fast. He leaned against the other wall of the elevator, "I want to see those titties. Pull that shirt all the way off." I did as I was told exposing my red lace bra underneath.

He gave me the "come here" signal with his fingers. I stood up in front of him. He pulled me close, slid his hands up my back and began to undo the hooks of my bra. Soon my full heaving breasts sprang free, the nipples of my cocoa brown areolas hard and sensitive. He began to grab and knead my breasts, playfully pinching the nipples as he smiled at me. I moaned and arched my back. God his hands felt so good on me. Just moments ago I hated him. Now I'd do anything, anything if he'd just ravage me, if he'd just put those lips on me, suck the skin, oooh God. He was so good at teasing, so good at making me give, but most of all making me want to give.

"C'mon, finish me Mali."

I stared at him intently as I slid down his body onto my knees. While he leaned back, I began to slowly swallow as much of him as I could. I bobbed up and down and made my mouth tighter and wetter than before. I made slurping wet sounds, feeling drool escaping from the corners of my lips as I moaned in wanton lust. I could've sworn he'd gotten harder. At this point he'd grabbed the back of my head and pushed my face onto him even more. I slurped and sucked and moaned, as he grunted and hissed, "Yeah, that's it, do that. Faster."

I went back and forth bobbing up and down, swirling my tongue around his girth, my lips stretching, my eyes rolling back in my head as I tweaked and pinched my own nipples. I was going faster, tighter at a frenetic pace.

"Shit, shit Mali, I'm gonna cum.shit." He pulled his dick out of my mouth and grabbed it. I leaned back and stuck out my tongue as he pumped the hot jizz out onto it and all over his thick purplish tip. He kept cumming, jerking it out on my neck, between my breasts, on my erect nipples. He grunted and hissed as he pumped until there was no more left. I sucked the remnants of his sticky cum off of his tip, "Ummm," I moaned, slowly starting to realize that this was the first time I'd tasted cum. I liked it. I liked his.

When he was done he'd tucked himself in and began to put on his jacket and fix himself up, "So much for the amateur."

I tried to keep myself from smiling as I took one of the linen napkins from the cart and cleaned myself up.

Within minutes we were moving again. The elevator immediately stopped and some people had gotten on. We acted as if we didn't know each other. He pressed the button for the next floor. I didn't know what to do, whether to say something or look away. So I looked away, studying my watch as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. Before he got off he said, "Excuse me miss, I think this is for you." He pulled out an envelope and handed it to me, I was too stunned and surprised to refuse. Soon he left with the rest of the people on the elevator.

When I'd finally gotten off, I stopped briefly in a hallway when no one was around to check the contents of the envelope. No note. No thank you. No explanation of why he's such a complicated fuck, but twenty-five one hundred dollar bills. He did it to me again. I might as well have been an itemized service, even though I wanted him nonetheless. What was he doing to me?

To be continued.