Tony
I want to DJ at your club. Pepper beams at me like her face is lit by a 1000 watt bulb. She just burst in my office after I left her a couple hours ago to rest up for the evening and is holding her notepad up for me to read.
For the last three days she’s let me show her all over Vegas.
Hugh’s still hanging around; I guess he doesn’t exactly consider himself fired. I would throw him out, but I think his nuts should still be on the line for the money, so I figure I’ll let him stay here like the scared little rabbit, sweating the money and her shows and having no control over how it’s gonna go.
Her parents started calling yesterday, even though she texted that she can’t talk. I gather they disagree with her decision to axe Hugh.
I took her to see Sondra’s art gallery, the giant Ferris wheel, Cirque du Soleil, Penn and Teller. I’ve also fucked her every chance I can get-before we go out, after we get back. In fact, I had her bent over the arm of the couch before I left her last.
Now we’re full circle, with her bursting into my office, looking like sex on a stick.
She’s in a triangle-shaped halter, or whatever the scraps of fabric that tie in the back are called. She’s wearing a black mini-skirt-emphasis on the mini-and the requisite Doc Martens on the bottom, and despite the fact that my cock has already been in her three times today, I’m ready for another round.
“Bellissimo.”
She cocks her head to the side.
“You, not the casino. And what club are you referring to?”
She shrugs and grabs a pen. Isn’t there a nightclub in this place?
I grin at her. “Yeah, but it’s probably not happening. It’s just a place for drunk guests to hook up, not a rave hall or anything.”
She flips to a new page. Spread the word. DJ Pepper is playing tonight.
I grin, suddenly getting it. She wants to create a scene like she did at the Paramount here, in the Bellissimo. Get some social media play and hype the concerts.
I pull her against me and slam my lips down on hers. It’s a long, thorough kiss. “Excellent idea. I’ll get it posted around the casino.”
Two hours later, the Bellissimo nightclub is way over fire code capacity, bodies spilling out into the casino, jamming up in lines.
Pepper’s playing a killer set-an eclectic mix of punk, electronica, and pop-old mixed with new, all at a driving beat.
Her band members and Izzy are out on the floor, dancing with the crowd. Sondra and Corey are out there, too, which means I’m on strict orders not to take my eyes off them. Nico, especially, is protective and possessive as fuck.
Like at the gig the other night, people are videotaping Pepper, holding their phones up. She has a driving beat going now, but seems to have experience with blending tracks, getting the beats to match up.
She turns down the bass and overlays a sample of the last verse of Radiohead’s Karma Police.
The crowd eats it up, first screaming, then singing along. And then she brings them back up, hitting the pop, smacking them with one of the songs from her latest album. It’s pure genius.
The girl clearly knows music inside and out. Her love for it-for all kinds of songs and styles-shows, even though she’s playing dance music. She also has a gift for performing. For playing to a crowd. By the time she’s finished, the people on the floor are gushing about her, the social media posts are off the charts and ticket sales to her concerts double.
I pull her out of there at two in the morning, because I can tell she’s starting to fade. Corey and Sondra already left, so I’m free to escort Pepper back to my suite. I want to strip her and tie her to my bed and keep her up for the rest of the night, but she looks so damn tired, I just pull back the sheets and tell her to hop in.
Are we sleeping? she writes on her notepad. Her eyes already half-closed.
“You are, songbird. You need all the rest you can get.”
I should go back to my bed.
I cup her nape. “Fuck that, baby. I may have taken mercy on you tonight, but I’m going to have my way with this enticing little body of yours in the morning.” I squeeze her nipple between two knuckles. “And I need you naked and in my bed to do that.”
Her smile stretches from ear to ear as she crawls willingly into my bed.
For a minute, I just stand there and look at her. Absorb the image of her platinum hair spread out on my pillow, her lashes fanned over her cheeks. The satisfaction I get is beyond sexual.
I want to keep her.
I want to wake up next to her. Fall asleep beside her. Listen to her snore.
I want Pepper Heart to be my girl.
Except it’s all impossible.
She’s good and pure. She has a life mapped out for her-a career in high gear. This time at the Bellissimo is a forced break from that life, but she will return to it. And she won’t think twice about leaving behind the man who acted as her jailor.