Samantha Tyler–head columnist for Behind Doors magazine–is sent to the Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas to interview high rolling crapshooter, Marcus Gun. Sam is delighted to enjoy a tryst with Troy, the handsome casino croupier, before she meets with the famed gambler.
When she and Marcus Gun win at the craps table and end up in her bed, it seems a perfect ending to the day. But when learning that the two men have duped her, she is determined to find out why, and to teach them a lesson. And, of course, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Las Vegas, Nevada
“I bet the Egyptians wish they had a Sphinx like ours." The blue-eyed, blond haired porter had the cutest dimple on his chin. “Isn’t that the best darned sculpture you ever saw, ma’am?” He pulled back the curtains and stood to the side, to give Samantha a clearer view through the large slanting window.
You look as if you could have been sculpted, too, she mused, admiring his well-ripped body. Handsome and tanned, like a Greek Adonis. God, I feel so horny in this heat, and in this fabulous place.
She leaned her hands on the window ledge and looked down from room 2007 of the huge pyramid-shaped Luxor Vegas Hotel, and whistled. “It’s incredible. You get an entirely different perspective from up here. I was pretty well blown away in the taxi as we came down the Las Vegas Strip, but the view from here is fantastic.”
She had gasped when first seeing the huge pyramid standing incongruously amid all the other towering resort hotels. Its black glass walls glistened in the sun, and a shimmering heat haze gave it an air of mystery. At three hundred and fifty feet in height it was nowhere near as tall as the actual Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt, yet it was the exact same shape. In front of it, at the head of an avenue of stylized goat sculptures, was the famous facsimile of the Sphinx, with its brightly-painted headpiece and pharaonic beard. It was flanked by the twenty-two story twin ziggurat towers and the famed obelisk, emblazoned with the name Luxor, in blue neon lights. Surrounded by palm trees as it was, Sam was impressed, but yet slightly amused by its garishness. Without doubt, she had never stayed in a hotel of this size and munificence, teeming with people attracted to the glitz and glamour of Vegas.
“Just wait until you see it at night,” the porter said, pointing out the window. “From down there on the corner of Tropicana and Las Vegas Boulevard, when the blue Luxor Skybeam laser is beaming out from the top of the hotel, it sure seems as if it’s a magic light reaching out to touch the stars.” He turned with a smile, revealing perfect Hollywood-white teeth. He let the curtain drop back into place. “And I guess those old pharaohs would have died to have a tomb in a swell pyramid like this.”
“I believe that the pharaohs were always dead before they were entombed,” she replied with a smile, noting his name badge on his lapel. “Have you been to Egypt, Troy?”
He laughed. “Egypt? Me? Get out of here, ma’am. I’ve never been further east than the Mississippi.”
“You should, Troy. Travel broadens the mind, you know.”
His smile widened. “Oh I guess I’m just naturally broad-minded, ma’am. Now, let me show you round your deluxe suite.”
“Aren’t we all,” she replied with a slight crinkle of her nose. “Broad-minded, I mean.” She noted with satisfaction that he stared at her for a moment, obviously slightly nonplussed by the way she looked at him.
Your shoulders are certainly broad enough. I like that, Sam thought. She followed him through the suite of open plan rooms, with its huge flat-screen television, plush settees, the king size bed and the luxurious en suite spa.
“You’ll like the tub, ma’am. Lots of bubbles and a good soak will soften you up, that’s for sure.”
“Do I look as if I need softening up, Troy?” she asked, casually running a hand down the side of her Dolce & Gabbana tasseled skirt. “I guess I may look a little travel-weary after the flight from London, but I hope I’m not too hard on the eyes.”
He slapped his forehead. “Say, don’t mind me, ma’am. I’m just what folks call mouthy. I talk a lot, and I sometimes overstep the mark. I apologize.”
Sam laughed as she reached in her purse and drew out a couple of notes. “Never change, Troy. I’ve enjoyed our chat, and this introduction to your fabulous hotel.”
He made the notes disappear with the legerdemain of a seasoned magician. “Not at all, ma’am. Anything you want, you just ring reception and ask for Troy, and I’ll come running. We got everything here. Over four thousand suites, five bars, the casino, spas, a couple of swimming pools, and one of the best cabarets in town.”
“I’ve heard of the cabarets. An entertainer friend of mine called Fakiri, and his assistant Zabrina, have worked here.” Sam thought of the special magic act she had shared with them, when, after showing him some tricks of her own, she had made the famous magician’s wand disappear into her ever-ready pussy, while she'd lapped at Zabrina’s clit, all the while marveling at the contrast between the magicians assistant’s beautiful ebony skin and her inner, intimate pinkness. Her panties dampened at the recollection of their all night orgy of magic.
“You don’t say,” said Troy. “Fakiri is a real big celebrity here.”
He was really big inside me, too, Sam thought, with a demure smile. Her eyes ran appreciatively over Troy’s body, taking in the broad shoulders and narrow waist under his blue jacket. He looked a couple of years younger than herself, maybe in his mid-twenties.
“Excuse me for asking, but do you do sport or something? It’s just that your jacket fits you rather snuggly. Quite becomingly, actually.”
Troy glanced down at his biceps which stretched the material of his coat. He flashed the smile at her. “Why thank you, ma’am. I work out all the time. In my spare time I’m training to be a stunt actor with the Las Vegas Film and Television Stunt Actors’ Guild.”
“You mean you are training to be an actor in action man movies?” she asked. “That sounds glamorous. I can see why you have to keep in peak condition!” I have a few stunts I’d like to see you do. And I’d like to see if you could send me into a peak, too.
His glance dropped to take in her cleavage and the swell of her breasts under her tight silk blouse. Then it dropped further to her hips, sizing her up. She felt a stirring in her crotch, and let her gaze fall to his nether regions. Unless she was mistaken he had the start of a hard-on, and her lips curled slightly in satisfaction. She was going to enjoy Las Vegas.
He looked at her somewhat sheepishly, and swallowed hard. “To tell you the truth, ma’am, I’d give anything to be a real actor, but I can’t remember lines too well, despite all the tricks they teach us about mnemonics, psychology and stuff. But I can ride horses, ski and trampoline as well as anyone, so I reckon my best chance of making it is by being a stunt actor.”
“So working here is just a way of paying the bills?”
He shook his head. “Heck, not exactly. I mean, I have a couple of jobs here. I do this room service in the day, but in the evenings I’m a croupier on either the craps or the Baccarat Chemin de fer tables.”
“Interesting. I might need to ask you about them later.”
“It would be a pleasure, ma’am. So, how about you? You look pretty darned fit, yourself.”
He likes what he sees. This is promising.
“Oh I work out, run a bit and do yoga. I try to look after myself. Not for my career, though. I’m just a journalist. In fact, that’s why I’m here in Vegas. I’m going to meet Marcus Gun and do an interview with him.”
Troy slapped his forehead again, his eyes open wide in wonder. “Wow! You’re here to see the man! Marcus Gun, he’s a real high roller. There’s always excitement when he blows into town, you know.” He pointed out the window, to one of the helicopters Sam had seen flitting about the city on her way down the Strip. “High rollers like him and visiting VIPs usually arrive by ‘copter. Then the action at the tables begins. All the punters want to be in on a piece of his action.”
“Action! That’s just the word I was hoping to hear,” Sam said with a pout. Her gaze fell again to the bulge in his pants. “I may not be training to be a stunt actor, but I’m certainly an amateur action girl. If you know what I mean?”
Troy took a sharp intake of breath and glanced at his watch. He screwed his eyes up as if in pain. “Gah! I’m real behind time, ma’am. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go or my manager will kill me.”
Sam scowled with mock peevishness. “That’s a pity, Troy. You’ve got me all enthused and excited about being here in this great big wonderful hotel.” She gestured to the tub with one hand and through the door with her other hand at the king-size bed. “And now you have to go! I’ll just have to relax and do what you say, take a long soak in the tub to soften up.” And think dirty thoughts. “Or maybe take a very cold shower instead,” she added, meaningfully.
Troy backed to the door, his face flushed. “Oh boy! Look, ma’am, if there is anything you need that isn’t already here, just call reception and ask for Troy. I have my cell phone on all the time and they can get me anytime, anywhere. Or maybe later I could show you the action at the craps table.”
That’s not the sort of action she was looking for. She crinkled her nose. “We’ll see, Troy. I have to interview Marcus Gun later this evening.”
He opened the door and smiled uncertainly at her. “Well, just remember what they always say, ma’am—what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!” He touched his forehead and closed the door after him.
Sam smiled wryly at the closed door. Dirty thoughts it will be then.