Chapter 2

"The bet is to you, sir," the dealer reminds me, and I don't look as I reach down and toss a chip in the middle of the table.

My eyes are on the dark-haired beauty across the room who's making her way toward us.

"Rogue, you just threw down a five-hundred-dollar chip," my brother Angus complains. "It's still early and you're not getting out of this that easy." His voice is low, but there's no chance the other guys at the table heard him.

We're here to celebrate our childhood best friend Franky getting hitched. He wanted to come to Vegas and have a big blow-out, but I declined. Several times. Angus finally showed up at my house the day of and said I didn't have a choice. It didn't help that I was the only one in our group that lived here. Angus is only in for the weekend, but he'll do his best to torture me until he's gone.

Franky and his boys from back home shout as someone throws in their hand. I'm still not looking when it comes back around to me and this time Angus grabs a chip and throws it in. I can't even tell you what cards I'm holding, but as she gets closer, I realize I could describe every detail of her lips.

"Can I get you gentlemen anything?" Her voice is sweet and soft like she's from somewhere down South.

"Must have been a shift change," I hear Franky leer, and I cut my eyes over to him. "Hey, sweet thing, how about a lap dance for the groom?"

"Sorry, baby, only drinks tonight." She fucking winks at him, and I clench my fist on top of the green felt.

Gritting my teeth, I gulp the last of the Scotch I was carefully sipping and slam my glass down. "Another," I bark, glad when I've got her eyes on me.

When she walks around the table, everyone watches, and I don't like it. She comes up beside me, and I get a full view of what she's got on. A black corset that is having the strength of the metal hooks tested, a short black pleated skirt, and fishnets. There isn't an inch of her that isn't wrapped tight by what she's got on, and it leaves almost nothing to the imagination. I'm hard under the table as she bends low in front of me and her dark hair falls over one shoulder.

"What are you drinking, sweetheart?" The way she talks makes me sweat, and I wish she'd stop. Without straightening up, she looks over at me with big brown eyes and glossy lips. "You look like a Scotch man to me."

"You must be a professional."

Her cheeks flush as she stands up and balances the tray on her hip. She ignores me and talks to the other men at the table, and I realize I may have just called her a sex worker. Goddamn it.

She flirts with the guys, and they're all hanging on every word she says. She bends over the table to take something from Franky, and I get a nice view of her big round ass. Without realizing it, a groan escapes, and she looks over her shoulder at me for only a brief second before she stands back up again and moves to the other side.

"That's what T-Pain calls thicker than a Snicker," Angus whispers only to me as the woman walks away from our table.

I ignore him as I turn over my cards and somehow win the pot without even trying. I hate gambling, I hate bachelor parties, and I hate cocktail waitresses even more.

"She's just trying to get a good tip," I grumble.

Angus shrugs as the next set of cards are dealt. "Nothing wrong with earning an honest living. It's probably more honest than your line of work."

As a divorce attorney in Vegas, I have plenty of unsavory clients that have made me a little bitter over the years.

"So?" I ignore him as I toss in my chips, suddenly parched for my next drink.

"But what I found strange was how you couldn't take your eyes off her."

"Casinos put the shiny objects in front for a reason." I glance up for what has to be the tenth time, and I'm aggravated she's not back yet.

"We've done our time in Sin City, brother. Tell me you've seen a woman like her in a casino before, and we can go home right this second."

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him exactly that, but I've never lied. Instead I look around the room again and spot her coming with a tray full of shots.

"Shots, shots, shots!" Franky is chanting with the other guys.

The woman weaves between chairs and finally makes it to us as she goes around to each person and deposits a shot glass filled with a cloudy mixture in front of them. When she gets to me, she doesn't put down a shot, but instead gives me a double of my previous drink. I try not to look at her, but I don't last two seconds. She dips down low beside me like all the other cocktail waitresses are trained to do. She's close enough that I can smell roses coming off of her.

"You didn't strike me as a shot kind of guy, sweetheart." Her head tilts to the side, and a veil of her dark hair hides a little of the room from us. "But I'm no professional."

Her accent is so thick and sweet, I have the sudden urge to apologize. I should, but I swallow it down and keep my eyes trained on her as she makes her way around the room. The pleats on her skirt peek up every time she bends over or dips down, and I know she probably chose that skirt on purpose. Her corset has to be strangling her with how her tits are spilling out of the top and I think about what it would be like to drag my cock over them.

I drink my Scotch way too fast once again, and I'm warm all over. Too warm.

When she walks out of the room, I stand up from my seat before I realize what I'm doing. When the table looks at me, I throw my cards in and tell them I'm going to the bathroom. I don't pay attention if they say anything about my quick departure, but I can feel Angus's eyes on my back.

Out on the floor of the casino, it's loud and the crowd is growing. I would have preferred a high roller room, but the guys Franky brought are more like guppies than whales.

I see movement at the cocktail counter and walk toward it. They have a bar specifically for the high roller suites and the poker room. When the bartender mixes the drinks, it's up to the waitresses to dress the drinks and grab any food orders.

I see my brunette at the window waiting on her drinks, and I wonder when she became my brunette. When I walk up behind her, I don't know what I planned on saying, but I just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"I need a drink."

She turns around and looks me up and down before a smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "All right, sweetheart, I'll get you another." She has the audacity to wink at me and then turn back around.

If the view of her ass wasn't so fucking good, I'd be upset. "I want all the drinks."

I clench my fists at my side as she looks at me over her shoulder and then turns back around to face me. "What?"

"How many drinks do you get on a shift?"

She lets out a laugh and then shrugs. "I don't know exactly, but it's more about the tips than the beverages."

The honest answer hits me in the chest. "How much would it take to get you off the floor tonight?"

Her eyes widen and she looks around. "Is there a problem? I'm sorry, I can bring you a shot, you just didn't—"

"What would I have to pay to get you to take the night off?" I cut her off, but I don't care.

She relaxes a little and shrugs one shoulder. "Oh no, that's not an Ember question, that's a Neil question."

"That"s your boyfriend?" I don't like how my jaw aches when it pops.

"That's my boss, who is right over there watching our interaction." She reaches out and puts her hand on my arm like we're deep in a pleasant conversion. "If he thinks you"re angry, which honestly you look like you've been chewing on nails, he'll probably give me the night off permanently." She smiles so big it's almost fake as she leans into me. "Pretty please with a cherry on top, if you don't want me to be homeless, let me get back to work."

I quickly glance back behind us to see the skinny blond manager leaning against the bar talking to someone but watching us.

She lets go of my arm and steps back, and I don't like the distance between us. "I'll grab you another drink and be right out."

"Your name tag says Cherry." Why am I speaking like I've just learned English? "You called yourself Ember."

She flushes, and I'm treated to seeing her tits bounce as she goes up on her toes to reach the cocktail cherries.

"I can keep a secret if you can." She pops a cherry into her mouth and winks.

How does she keep getting the best of me? "What time do you get off?"

"You wouldn't want me to break more than one rule tonight, would you?"

I press my lips together so I don't tell her yes. I glance down and see one of the snaps of her corset has already popped the stitches. A few more hours and who knows how many more will go. Could I really leave knowing any second those big beautiful tits could be on display?

"So it's not about the desire, it's about the permission?" I cock my head to the side, and she nibbles on her bottom lip. I wait a heartbeat before I nod and take a step back.

As I make my way over to the bar and to her manager, I feel her eyes on me. If I can't get her off the floor, I might as well get her alone.