Читать книгу 1 Law 4 All - Vegas - Billy Angel - Страница 5

"I’ll take that girl on the end."

"You mean the tall, lanky one with the red hair?" the bald man asked.

"Yea, the one with the legs to her tits," the Senator answered.

During the costume and scene-change break, the bald man took out his Smartphone. He addressed a text to his arranger. It said, 'senator wants the redhead. send her to pent 8????'.

The arranger immediately responded to his boss's request. He hurried to the dancer's changing room. He wormed his way in between naked and half-clothed bodies. He spotted the tall redhead.

She applied the last bit of pancake when he tapped her on the shoulder. He had done this numerous times. Many of the dancers looked forward to his shoulder tap.

She turned and smiled. He offered her an opportunity to escort the bald man's, high roller that evening. He mentioned that the high roller was a Senator. She accepted the date.

A few minutes later, a text returned to the bald man, 'done'.

"You got her. After the show go to this room." The bald man handed the slender, tall man a penthouse room keycard. "It’s penthouse number eight."

The music filled the Starlight Room again. The tall man ordered a bottle of Johnny Walker, Blue Label and clean glasses. The waitress looked at the bald man. He nodded, giving his approval. Johnny Walker, Blue Label was only for special guests. It cost two hundred and fifty dollars a bottle, wholesale. For the rest of the show, the tall man refreshed his glass many times with the 'Blue'.

The dancers, dressed in navy blue corsets made to look like cop uniforms, high kicked and wiggled their way through the music of the song, Jailhouse Rock. An Elvis Presley look-alike, dressed in a black and white stripped jumpsuit, sang and grabbed at the dancing girls through the fake, rubber cell bars.

The show finished with a jailbreak scene. The singers and dancers took their bows. The tall man feeling for the room keycard in his pocket, winked at the bald man while getting up from his chair. He snatched the half-empty bottle of Johnny Walker, Blue off the table and started walking away.

"Take the penthouse elevator," said the bald man.

The tall man found the penthouse elevator. He inserted the penthouse room keycard in the slot next to the up-down buttons. The doors slid open immediately exposing an elevator lined with sparkling clean, mirrored walls frosted with dollar signs of varying sizes.

He pushed the penthouse button and rode the elevator up. The quick assent made his head spin. He leaned against the elevator wall to stable himself and his Johnny Walker bottle. When the doors opened, he steadied himself with one arm extended on the walls leading to the room.

He entered the penthouse and walked to the window. He admired the room's view of the glimmering, Las Vegas strip. With visions of the tall redhead in his mind, he undressed in the bedroom. He found the hotel's guest, white bathrobe and slipped into it.

Comfortable in the robe, the tall man answered the knock at the room's door.

The long, slender redhead stood at the door’s threshold. She wore a black-amethyst, Mac Duggal, long sleeve cocktail dress that stopped six inches above her knees. A matching large Coach handbag hung from her left shoulder.

She would dress to the max while auditioning with high rollers. Most of the dancers in Vegas hoped to hook a big fish, possibly from booty calls such as this. If nothing else, they could land a tip worth a month’s pay.

On the way to penthouse eight, the redhead sent a text to her girlfriend, ‘got a senator tonight. c u later'. She dropped the phone in her handbag not expecting a return text.

As she walked through the door, the tall man asked, "Would you like a drink?"

"No thanks," she said. "But I would like to freshen up."

Familiar with the penthouse layout, she slid by him taking long, deliberate strides to the master bathroom. He admired her moves then poured himself another Johnny Walker from the Blue Label bottle. After chugging three ounces, he sat on the edge of the bed. The room began to slowly spin, but he controlled it by focusing on the armless, headless statue in the corner of the room.

The redhead opened the bathroom door and walked out wearing nothing under a green, shinny teddy. The four-inch, high heeled, platforms and long, flowing red hair made her look like a goddess, thought the tall man.

He stood and walked towards her. She moved towards him. He stopped and looked into her eyes. "You look good enough to eat," he said.

"That’s the idea," she smiled.

He sat her on the bed. He stood and admired the view. Feeling a bit dizzy, again, he went to his knees. The redhead asked, "Are you alright?"

"You'll see how alright I am," he proclaimed in a cowboy twanged voice. And he proceeded to start kissing her knees.

Within thirty seconds, he was inside her thighs, kissing and licking. Another wave of dizzies hit him. He looked up and pushed her to a laying position on the bed. He crawled on top of her, starting to kiss her long neck. She positioned him over her on the large, round bed.

Within a few minutes, he ran out of energy. She flipped on top of him and started grinding her thighs into his.

Ten minutes of grinding mixed with occasional, dirty talk went by. The tall man wasn’t hard. His frustration only worsened with his eagerness. Nothing stimulated him.

He pushed her off his thighs. He sat up next to her and put his hand around the back of her head. He forced her head into his crotch. She knew what to do. She sucked and sucked and sucked. His limp noodle wasn’t cooperating.

His frustration turned to anger during another ten-sucking minutes. She eventually came up for air much to his disgust. She smiled a motherly smile. Feeling something in her mouth, she raised her hand to remove it while saying "Don't worry honey, sometimes things....."

She didn’t finished her sentence. His fist caught her chin moving upward and sideways at the same time. Her long, red hair, swirled into her face as her head rocked sideways. Stunned, she fell head first off the bed. A quiet snapping noise sounded from her neck as the rest of her body flopped onto the floor.

That will teach her smart mouth, he thought. He waited for several minutes with the dizzies coming and going. Then he called out. "Ok, bitch, rest time is over. Get your ass back in bed."

When she didn't answer, he lifted himself off the bed. The long, tall redhead lay still on the floor. Her eyes were open wide, staring into the distance. He noticed she wasn't blinking.

The tall man caught his breath, leaned down and shook her. "Come on, get up bitch" he blubbered through the alcohol.

A few minutes more, reality began materializing. The tall man started to shake. His hunting instincts guessed the red haired dancer was dead.

He callously lite a cigarette to calm his nerves. Negative thoughts about his senatorial future began flashing in his mind.

If he were caught in a hotel room with a naked, dead woman his favorability polling numbers would plummet. Some of his friends and colleagues would distance themselves from him. His political career with its plush lifestyle was finished. He thought even Bill Clinton's, damage-control team, would have a tough time putting a positive spin on this scene.

He scrambled for his cell phone and called the bald man. "Hurry up here to my room," he mumbled, exhaling cigarette smoke.

The man laughed, "I'm not into threesomes."

"No, it's not like that. I think the girl is hurt…." His voice trailed off.

The bald man stopped him from saying anything more. "Don't say anything on the phone. I'll be right there."

The bald man puffed his way to the penthouse elevator. Three minutes later he was knocking on number eight's door.

As the door opened, he heard a whining voice say, "Hurry, come in. She's over here on the floor."

The bald man walked over to the girl. He briefly felt for a carotid pulse in her neck. Getting no bounce, he checked for breathing. Within seconds, he thought the girl was dead.

"You can tell me what happened later. We need to clean this mess. Get dressed and check that you have all your things. We're moving you across the hotel to another room."

"What about the girl?"

"I'll contact the arranger. He has an exceptional cleanup crew."

"What?" the Senator said confused and feeling more intoxicated.

"Right now you're facing a critical career choice. If you report this to the authorities, you can kiss your cushy political career good-bye. If you let me handle this, you can continue living as if nothing has ever happened. I can promise you more tall, redheads in your future….to screw, that is!" He smirked.

The tall man knew he was talking cover up. He also knew he didn't want to see anymore tall, women, at least for a while.

He knew all about cover ups. In Washington, DC, cover ups were a daily occurrence. "Ok. I'm out of here," the Senator finally said.

The bald guy looked down at the girl's hobbled body. "Honey, the desert sand is warm this time of year."