Stripped Bare (Vegas Billionaire 1)

“You’re mine, Macey,” he says, standing and towering over me. “Mine. I’ll see you when you get off.”

Finn stops and pays his bill and doesn’t look to see if I’m watching him. The hostess is flirting with him and a pang of jealousy washes over me. I shouldn’t be jealous. I shouldn’t care, but if I’m his, why can’t he be mine? Finn never looks at me when he walks out the door and the only thing that gets my attention is Debbie waving something in my face.

“Whoa, Macey, what did that man order?” Debbie ask as she fans herself.

“What?”

“Your tip and a note.” She hands me a stack of hundred-dollar bills wrapped in a note.

I want to see you and you know I always get what I want.

Finn

As discreetly as I can I count the money, stopping when I get to eight and knowing there are two more bills after that. He left me a thousand-dollar tip on an eight-dollar meal. And his note . . . he doesn’t leave a number, knowing I already have his tucked tight in that phone he made sure I had, even if he hasn’t used it.

Joel ended up spending an hour at the diner, taking every chance he could to talk to me, and gave me his number again. Little does he know that I still have the piece of paper he gave me at the airport sitting in my dresser. Maybe this time I’ll use it. Maybe today is the wake-up call I need to get over Finn. Maybe.

When I get off, Finn is standing outside the restaurant waiting for me. He’s leaning up against his car with his legs crossed at his ankles. I contemplate heading toward my bus stop, but I have a feeling he’ll follow me.

“Get in, Macey,” he says as he opens the door for me. There are no pleasantries in his words. It’s a demand. It’s business. After he slams my door shut, he rushes around to the driver’s side and slides in easily. He doesn’t ask where I need to go when he enters traffic, but seems to head out of town.

“I can’t be gone long.”

“I want to talk.”

“How long have you been in town?”

He smiles and looks at me, killing me dead with his blue eyes. “I arrived this morning.”

I look at him questioningly and he shrugs. “And you came to the diner?”

“Yeah, I needed to see you.”

“Okay,” I say, turning my attention back to the road. He turns off and drives up the hill in the direction of Lovers’ Lane. Funnily enough, I always imagined I’d be brought up here so I could make out with someone I’m interested in.

He pulls into the tree-secluded location and parks, shutting the car off. The view from here is amazing, looking over the city. Everything looks magical and pristine. From this vantage point you wouldn’t guess that when you get to the bottom there’s a festering shit hole of life’s worst hell.

“I’ve always loved it up here.”

“I wouldn’t know. This is my first time,” I tell him. He looks at me and pulls my hand toward him, setting it on his leg. His thumb moves back and forth over my skin. My eyes close, remembering everything that happened between us.

“Well, now it’s something you can knock off your bucket list.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I don’t have a bucket list.”

“Why not?”

I take my hand back and turn toward the door. “What’s the point of having a list when I know I can’t knock anything off?”

“I can help.”

Turning sharply to look at him, I say, “Why are you here? Our agreement is over and you made it crystal clear that we would never see each other again. So what gives?”

Finn rests his hand on the steering wheel. “Our agreement isn’t over.”

“Excuse me?”

“You owe me one more day and I’m here to collect.”

I scoff. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“See, that is where you’re wrong. As far as I’m concerned you left before our agreement was due to end. You owe me another day and I want to collect.”

I close my eyes and wish I had made a run for the bus. If I knew he was outside, I would’ve called a cab to come and get me. I would’ve done anything to prevent what’s happening now.

Silent tears start to fall as I see what my life is going to become. He’s going to always have something to hold over my head. If it’s not the agreement, it’ll be the tip he gave me at the diner.

“I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because I don’t want to be a whore, Finn. You left a thousand-dollar tip for me and now I’m in your car at Lovers’ Lane. This adds up to prostitution and I’m not . . .”

Finn pulls me to his chest. “That’s not why I left the tip and that’s not what I think of you. I’ve never thought of you like that.”