Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sissy

Today is my nineteenth birthday.

I can’t think of a better way to spend it than starting my first real job.

Locke holds my hand in a death grip as we walk to the female employee lounge where I will be given my uniform and meet up with Faye, who is going to be training me. I love Locke holding my hand. It makes me feel safe, like nothing bad could ever touch me. I should probably tell him it’s my birthday, but I don’t want him to feel obligated to buy me a gift. Not when he’s already given me a place to sleep. Tonight when we woke up in his bed, his thick arms wrapped around me, he even got up and made me eggs, toast and a waffle.

My belly is full for the first time in a very long time and…

Locke also gave me my first kiss. My first orgasm.

Not only that, he had one. A shaking, growling, violent one. All over me. I had to take another hot shower before we left the apartment tonight, but he didn’t seem worried about me running up the water bill, the way my father would have been.

Yes, we slept in each other’s arms. Naked.

Not that you would know it by looking at him.

His jaw appears to be poised on the verge of shattering.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, jogging to keep up with his long strides.

“Yes, something is wrong, Sissy,” he answers tightly. “I’m about to throw an angel into a den of vipers.”

“Stop worrying. It’s going to be fine.” She squeezed his hand. “And you’re not throwing me anywhere. I’m going willingly, because it’s my decision.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re an independent female,” he grumbles. “I get it.”

“That’s true,” I say, smiling up at him. I’m not sure why I’m so compelled to add the next part. It’s just instinct. Something he makes me feel and anticipate, especially after last night. “But I’ll let you be in control of me later. At home. When it’s just us. That’s my decision, too.”

He bites back a groan, shaking his head determinedly. “I shouldn’t allow myself that privilege. Neither should you.” He turns his eyes on me and looks me over, breasts, hips and thighs. “But hell if I won’t be counting the hours.”

A tingle carries up from my knees, shivering through my nervous system. The dense air conditioning in the casino suddenly isn’t enough to combat what Locke does to me. “Can I have a kiss before our shift starts?”

“Sissy…” He stops short just before the door to the female lounge, adjusting the thick bulge behind the zipper of his dress pants. “I can’t kiss you here. Someone will call the police.”

My lips form a natural pout. One I reserve only for him. “Why?”

Some color appears high on his full cheeks. “No one will believe you’d kiss me unless you’re being forced, honey.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m a big, ugly motherfucker and you’re…so damn young and beautiful, Sissy. People will think you’re being pressured or coerced, because I have a higher position here. At the very least, they’re going to think you’re insane for letting me…” With a curse, he backs me toward the wall, his hand dropping down to the back of my right thigh and scraping upward. Beneath my skirt. Kneading my bottom. “Fuck it. I’ve got to touch this body. Touch you. I’d love to jackhammer you right here in the hallway. You’re wrecking me. My cock is so stiff, I have no idea how I’m going to make it through the night.”

I lift onto my toes and rub my body against his, side to side, anticipation trickling in my belly, making me feel heavy and achy between my thighs. “I’ll be thinking of you.”

Locke studies my face for a moment, shaking his head. “I should tell you to flirt and laugh and have a great time with people your own age, but I can’t do that. You’ve taken a hold of something inside of me and I can’t get it loose.”

He brings his mouth to my ear. And at the same time, he does something I’m not expecting. He brings his pinkie finger to his mouth, slides it between his lips to wet it good. Then he lowers his hand again, delving all five digits into the rear of my panties—and pumping that wet pinkie finger into a place I didn’t know anyone was supposed to touch. My back hole. He presses his pinkie finger all the way in and my legs start to tremble uncontrollably, my breath catching in my throat.

“While you’re walking the casino floor tonight, remember this belongs to your Daddy.” His left hand slides up beneath the front of my dress and grips my sex roughly, pulling a whimper from my throat. “This, too. Especially this. If I catch you letting another man think he’s got a shot at getting you on your back, first I will put you over my knee and punish you like a fresh little brat. And then I will turn this casino to a smoking pile of rubble.” He’s breathing hard, the sound echoing in my ear. “Am I making myself clear?”

“I don’t want anyone else,” I moan, rolling my hips into his touch.

“You’ve only been on your own for a few days, Sissy. How can you know?” He knuckles that sensitive nub through my underwear and my vision doubles. “I know you’ll leave eventually, but please, give me a little time with you as mine.”

I struggle through the arousal to focus on his words, his marred brow, the weight of his words. “It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been free, a few days or a few decades, I’ll always know I’m yours.” Despite the fervency of my promise, he still looks dubious. “I’ve been around men on the farm. Lots of them. They’ve all repelled me. None of them ever made me feel safe and wanted and…hot. I’m so hot. I want to be back beneath you. I want you to roll me around again and hear you call me pumpk—”

He stops my flow of words with a hard kiss, pulling back to give me a stern look. “We can’t talk about that here, Sissy.”

I nod to let him know I understand. There are aspects of our relationship that people might not appreciate. Even with my limited experience, I sense that no one would approve of me calling him Daddy. Or the way we pretend to wrestle. “Okay,” I whisper. “I know.”

Voices grow louder behind the door of the women’s lounge and I recognize one of them as Faye’s. Quickly, Locke slips his pinkie from my body and loosens his hold on my flesh, smoothing my dress back into place.

The door to the lounge opens. Three girls in short, gold sequined dresses stand there. They all look at me and Locke with wide-eyed speculation, before two of them run off toward the casino entrance. Faye remains, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the new girl. I was just about to come looking for you.” She jerks her head toward the interior of the lounge. “Come on then, let’s get you dressed and start training. I’ve got tips to make and a mortgage to pay.”

“She goes nowhere alone,” Locke growls. “You stay with her at all times.”

“Wow.” Faye is visibly shaken by Locke’s intensity but recovers enough to raise an eyebrow. “That’s the first time you’ve spoken to me in the three years we’ve worked together. First time you’ve spoken to any of the waitresses, actually.” Faye studies me with renewed interest. “She must be a special.”

“Very,” Locke confirms. “I want the skirt to reach her knees.”

“Locke!” I say with a laugh, moving to join Faye, but wishing so badly that I could give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll be fine.” I barely resist the urge to take two running steps and leap into his arms. “I’ll see you later?” I say, sounding wistful.

“I’ll see you on the floor. And I’ll be waiting right here after your shift.”

My smile is pure bliss. Surely having this incredible, caring man wait for me makes me the luckiest girl in the world. “Bye, Locke.” I wave at him, mouthing the word “Daddy” where Faye can’t see me. I only catch a fleeting look at his hungry expression before the door closes and he’s gone. I’m now among dozens of chattering girls in the women’s lounge. They are in various stages of undress, pulling on black tights, using mirrors to apply makeup and arrange their hair in ponytails or high, slick buns. Some of them smile at me, some of them don’t even bother to acknowledge a newcomer as we pass through the buzzing groups.

At the rear of the lounge, Faye reaches up onto a shelf and hands me a folded stack of clothing. “Put on your uniform and we’ll see if it needs any…adjusting.”

“Thank you.”

I wait for her to leave, but she simply stands there, watching me. Having no choice, it seems, I strip off the same dress I was wearing yesterday, sighing when it smells like Locke’s laundry detergent.

“So…I’m guessing the interview went well,” Faye begins, conversationally. “Did you have to take your dress off for Craig, like the rest of us?”

My face heats at the blunt question. “No.”

Her smile spreads like a Cheshire cat. “Took it off for Locke, instead, hmm?” She studies her nails. “In the understatement of the year…he must have liked what he saw.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I mumble, feeling the need to defend us. She makes what I have with Locke sound seedy and purely physical, but it’s not.

“What was it like?” Faye asks, chuckling when I remain staunchly silent. “You know, we all call him the priest. He doesn’t partake in the buffet of debauchery here in Vegas. Doesn’t speak to women, doesn’t drink. That’s why he’s the best pit boss in town. Never has an off day. Never hungover or sweating over a fight with the wife. He’s even-keeled. Calm and methodical.” She nods at the entrance to the lounge where we came in. “Until now. I’ve never seen him so worked up.”

“He’s just worried about me.”

“After knowing you for one day?”

I pull on the gold, sequined dress, gulping when it barely covers any of my thighs, let alone reaching my knees. “Yes,” I say without thinking. “After one day.”

“Wow. Must be nice to have a man pant after you like that.” She whirls me around to zip up my dress, making the garment tight. Everywhere. “This dress is a size too small for you, but…the object of this job is to make tips, right? Could work in your favor. Our male customers are going to lose their minds over this ass.” She pats my butt with a laugh. “It’s going to be an entertaining shift watching Locke sweat bullets in the blackjack pit.”

“I don’t want him to sweat bullets. I’d like the bigger size, please.”

“Sorry,” she singsongs, gesturing to the empty shelves. “Fresh out.”

My nerves start to jangle, but I don’t have time to worry much more about the uniform, because Faye hooks her elbow in my arm and drags me toward the door.

* * *

My fingers tighten around the tray in my hands.

Locke was right.

That’s my first thought when I make my initial lap around the table games and male attention rolls toward me in a lecherous wave. They aren’t subtle about looking at my body. They ogle my breasts, which are pushed up and on display in the neckline of this too-snug dress. The hem is short, but it rides up ominously now, so often that I have to keep tugging it down. And the gamers seem to enjoy watching me struggle to remain covered by the gold material, some of them openly turning in their chairs to watch me.

I feel naked and vulnerable, but Faye only laughs at my expression.

“We’ve got a randy crop tonight!” she says to me out of the corner of her mouth. “Bet you won’t be complaining when we’re counting our tips at the end of the night.” She gives me a subtle elbow in the ribs. “By the way, fifty percent of your tips are mine while you’re training.”

Once that piece of information is shared, her refusal to find a dress in my correct size makes a lot more sense. She’s benefitting from my discomfort. I’m half naked out here in front of hundreds of strangers so she can make some extra cash.

That realization makes me nauseous.

“Ooh, would you look at your boyfriend?” Faye croons. “He is not happy.”

My heart shoots up into my mouth, my gaze swinging around the casino floor and eventually landing on Locke where he stands frozen in the center of the pit of blackjack tables, his face a mask of pure fury. Even though he is visibly angry, I still can’t help to take a moment to appreciate how sexy he is in this setting, as the pit boss. He towers over the dealers slinging cards at the surrounding tables, his suit impeccable, radiating authority. I want to be in his lap kissing his mouth and feel the rise of his erection beneath me. I want to disrobe for him, dance for him, do everything for him in this moment.

I’m obsessed with this man.

The infatuation is under my skin, making me hot and shaky.

In the back of my head, I can hear the groaning springs of his king-size bed as we rolled around, him coming in warm, sticky splats over and over again while he tickled me, kissed me, licked my nipples.

I’m soaking through the black uniform tights just thinking about it. Needing it.

In a flash, I remember he’s ticked off. Right. He crooks his blunt finger at me, a clear demand to come here.

“Do you let him order you around like that?” Faye asks, handing a drink off to one of the men who are seemingly fascinated by my body. Why? Do I look so different than Faye or anyone else? Apparently the answer is yes, because several men are signaling me, holding up cash or casino chips, wanting me to come take their order. “Well,” says Faye, growing annoyed. “Get to work. You don’t want to get complaints on your first night, do you? Locke needs to understand you have a job to do. He’s not your god.”

No. He’s not. Technically.

Even though he does rule quite a lot of me. My body, my heart, my consciousness.

I came to Vegas to stand on my own, though, so doesn’t Faye have a point? I can work now and belong to Locke after my shift. If I’m going to work at the casino, he’ll have to get used to me interacting with men at some point, right?

With a hard swallow, I ignore Locke’s crooked finger and take a few steps closer to the nearest man flashing me money. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Hell yeah you can, gorgeous.” The scent of alcohol wafts toward me on his breath and though he is technically handsome, I couldn’t find him less attractive. “How much to sip it out of your belly button?”

There’s a roar of male laughter around the table. His friends slap him on the back, congratulating him on speaking to me so rudely, knocking over chips in the process. Faye comes up behind me giggling, too, as if it’s no big deal. “Get used to it.” She nudges me in the back. “Suck it up, smile and take his order.”

“Hey, waitress. Bring that sweet ass over here,” someone calls behind me.

“I get her first,” says someone else, groaning. “Wouldn’t even need to pop a Viagra with a pretty thing like that.”

“Um.” My heart is hammering in my ears. “Which drink would you like?” I ask the drunk man in front of me.

He leans closer, leering at my breasts. “You got one that tastes like your cun—”

The man’s head is slammed off the table. With a gasp, I drop my tray and leap back to find the lecher’s hair fisted in Locke’s hand. A hush descends on the casino, but it only lasts a split second before everything moves in a kaleidoscope of mayhem. Everyone jumps up from the table to help their friend, but they take one look at Locke and immediately back away, hands up, palms out. Security rushes forward, but Locke doesn’t seem to notice. No, he slams the man’s head down again, very obviously breaking his nose, blood splattering everywhere.

But he’s not done.

He yanks the half-unconscious man from his hair and lays him out cold with a right cross.

“Locke!” I finally find the voice to scream, throwing myself in front of him. “Stop. Stop!”

Without responding, Locke scoops me up, his face speckled with blood, and strides off the casino floor. Patrons wisely jump out of his path, staring past us in horror at the customer who has been left bleeding in the middle of the floor.

“Is this what you wanted?” Locke growls at me through his teeth. “Did you want to see how close you’ve driven me to the brink of madness?”

“No. No, I didn’t…I never thought it would be this bad.” I bury my face in his neck. “I didn’t believe you. That they would treat me different than any other waitresses.”

He smacks something on the wall behind me. I lift my head to find us standing in front of a row of elevators. One of them dings and he steps inside, growling at the security guards to fuck off before they can join us in the car. “Well now you know, Sissy. Now you know.” He lowers me onto my feet but wastes no time wedging me up against the wall of the elevator, his shaft spearing me in the belly. “Men look at you and see the best fuck they’ll ever have. They know they’ll feel sick for the rest of their lives unless they find a way on top of you. Now. Immediately. I know. I know because I’m experiencing it myself.” He pants against my mouth, his hand coming up between my legs to smack my sex. Fast and hard and repeatedly. “I need my ride. I need your hole. I need it now.”

Everything that happened downstairs fades away and there’s only him. There’s only the piercing lust he has created inside of me. I’m wrapping my arms around his neck and climbing his thick, hearty body, slinging my legs around his waist and going for his mouth. Hungering and seeking and making love to his lips with my own.

“Where are you taking me?” I gasp in between frantic kisses.

His mouth rakes down between my breasts, licking over the mounds of my cleavage where they bulge in the neckline of the sequined dress. “I knew this would happen, knew some bastard would make a pass at you. I rented a room to bring you, to calm you down and comfort you if you were upset or scared.” He grinds me with his hips against the elevator wall and I whine his name. “Going to use the room to claim your little pussy, instead.”