Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He finds a solution. He calls the casino and orders a private car to come pick us up.
“I’ve still got two days of the penthouse suite, so fuck ‘em. They can come to get us,” he says with a strange determination.
This makes me wonder, without asking him, what happened in that Pearl Room after I left.
But grabbing breakfast to go on the way and having Ethan fuss over me to make sure I get to work on time means I quickly forget about it.
“I promise I won’t interfere with your workday,” he says as we pull up out front of the casino. Amazing me again at just how good the man looks and smells.
Looking sharper than he did yesterday and showing me his secret routine of getting ready before we left by simply stepping back into his clothes and brushing his hair with his fingers.
Instantly perfect again.
The red carpet is out front reserved for VIPs, something Ethan takes no notice of, chatting to me casually as we make what must look like a grand entrance to anyone watching, especially for a girl who only works the slots floor.
“I’ll just hang out…maybe play some slots and blend in. You won’t even know I’m there,” he promises.
But one glance at the looks we’re already getting before we even get to my floor is enough to tell me that life with Ethan is never gonna be him just ‘blending in.’
The man’s a giant and a handsome one at that. And I tell him that my real problem is going to be trying to focus on anything except what I saw and felt this morning.
I am already kicking myself for not just plucking up the courage and begging him to take me with that huge cock this morning.
But I guess we both want it to be special. And once I punch in and get to work, I notice Ethan making some calls from his cell, loading up a prepaid slots card with credits at the cashier.
I know he’s not a gambler. It’s obvious.
Most people who play slots don’t start out with as much money as they’d like to finish with, and I wonder again how much money he has once he hands over a stack of bills to charge up his casino debit card.
There are more than just curious eyes on him because of his size too.
Once he settles himself in front of the biggest machine with an empty seat, it isn’t long before the bells and digital whistles start blowing.
It’s like every time he bets more and presses more buttons, the more he wins.
The man simply cannot lose.
And with a machine paying out like that, with the amounts he’s betting, it isn’t long before my supervisor, Denise, notices too.
She didn’t see me come in with Ethan, so she has no idea we’re together.
But she tells me she recognizes him from yesterday.
“That’s the guy who was in here yesterday…he was looking for you, Krissy. I’m gonna call security again, have them check him out….”
I open my mouth to say something, anything. “But why? He doesn’t appear to be doing anything wrong.”
Before Denise makes the call, though, she motions me over. Giving me the same look I’ve seen a dozen times.
“I need you to fill in for someone else again, Krissy. You did say you wanted extra hours, right?”
I feel a strange, almost alien sensation in the pit of my stomach.
That place where worry and guilt used to live pre-Ethan in my life. And in my bed.
“Uh… Y’know, Denise? I think I’ll pass today,” I tell her swiftly, and she gives me a sour look.
“You said you wanted more hours. Here they are for you, and you won’t do them?” she exclaims angrily, knitting her brow and not even trying to keep her voice down.
“See…something came up this morning,” I explain. I am trying to make up a credible story that isn’t a naked Ethan in my bed with his face between my legs as an excuse for not wanting an extra shift.
“But I just re-did the roster, Krissy,” Denise says, sounding hurt. She was using the old guilt card, which would usually work on me, but I don’t feel it that way today.
I can only shrug and get back to work, suggesting maybe she ask someone else when I notice why Ethan chose the machine he has to sit in front of.
No matter which direction I look, I can see him, and he can see me.
The hundreds of mirrors in the place give him the perfect vantage point to watch my every move all day if he has to without leaving his seat.
He raises his brows in silent greeting, and I fight the instinct to wave.
I only smile, amazed again at just how far he’ll go to let me have my own way but still watch over me and have me with him every second.