Stripped Bare (Vegas Billionaire 1)

The waitress appears with our menus and asks for our drink orders. “What do you want to drink?”

Macey leans closer. “I don’t know. This place is fancy and I usually drink beer.”

I can see Macey in jeans and a tank, chugging down a beer, and I like that about her.

“May I order for you?”

She nods, giving me the green light to tell the waitress that we’ll have a bottle of their cabernet. I thought about liquor, but once dinner is done, Macey and I are going back to the penthouse, while the guys are hitting the scene. I had every intention of taking her out tonight, but not with the way Brady is eye fucking her.

“Um . . .”

“What’s wrong?”

She closes the menu and places her hands in her lap. “I don’t like seafood.”

That is probably something I should’ve asked before agreeing to meet the guys for dinner. I pull her close and place my lips right below her ear, nuzzling her longer than I should.

“They have a filet, it’s delicious.”

She nods and when the waitress returns, Macey lets me order for her again. I rather like that about her, at least right now. I’m sure she’ll change her tune in a few days when she’s comfortable and her mouth is back to working.

Placing my arm around her, my free hand pulls her leg until she’s closer to me. I like the feel of her nestled into my body. When she doesn’t initiate contact, I do it for her, placing her hand right on my dick. Ever since we left my place I’ve been fluctuating between hard and semi-hard, and being this close to her is only making things . . . harder.

I jump slightly when she squeezes, earning a small chuckle out of her. Thankfully, she slides her hand far enough down, but still able to graze my dick whenever she feels like it.

“You and I are going to have some fun tonight,” I say, winking at her.

“So I’ve been told.”

Our wine is poured and as I take my drink, Brady asks the question that I never thought of having an answer to. “Macey, what do you do for work?”

Wine sprays out of my mouth and onto the table, some of it landing on Seth and his shirt. Thankfully, it’s not white. Back when we were old enough to start clubbing he’d wear white so he could stand out against the lights. It was the douchiest thing ever and I’ve never let him live it down.

“Sorry, man.”

“You’re such a fucker.”

“Ignore them, Macey. They’re children,” Brady says, pissing me off.

“I’m a dancer,” she says as if it’s no big deal. I wait for the guys to put two and two together, but it doesn’t happen. If she had shown up in her short-ass dress with her tits hanging out, they’d be asking for a table dance right now.

“Classical or modern.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” I say to Brady, who shrugs. “Did you check your man card at the door, man?”

“What? I’m only trying to find out what type of dancing.”

“Right,” I say, finishing my glass of wine. “She’s a fucking gymnast too so that answers your flexibility question.”

He puts his hands up and sits back, calling a truce. I suppose Macey and I should’ve gone over some specifics before we showed up, but I honestly didn’t expect any of the guys to pay much attention to her.

I was so fucking wrong.

9

Macey

Dinner was interesting, to say the least. I think I almost prefer to be poor, eating leftover pizza and skipping meals, rather than paying for overpriced meat because of the fancy name that the establishment has listed above the door. And fish, I hate it. I can’t stand the smell and that’s what this place smells like, although it isn’t as bad as being on a pier when the trawlers come back in from being out at sea all day. To say I was shocked when Finn ordered the filet too is an understatement. I didn’t mean to ruin his dinner plans with my lack of culinary sophistication.

The conversation with his friends centered on what clubs they were hitting later and business. From what I gathered, Brady, the one who felt it was appropriate to eye fuck me as soon as I sat down, is in real estate, acquiring land and dilapidated buildings for future development.

Seth is a bodybuilder and actually gets paid by sponsors to wear their clothes, drink and eat their product and go to events to show off his physique. Personally, his body type is not for me, but to each their own. Every time a man like him comes into the club, I’d always steer clear of them. The sheer size of their muscles scares me.

Cory is a trust-fund kid who works at his father’s consulting firm. According to Finn, Cory goes to work when he wants to and doesn’t really contribute much to society except for the social side.