Page 10 of Heart of Sin

I’m a people pleaser. That comes into play in the bedroom too. I’m no ladies man by any means, but I want the moment to be spontaneous and natural.

Definitely not scripted or forced.

I wasn’t in any rush to sleep with Tasha. The money was no object.

She’s misunderstood the situation!

I slap a hand to my face and then shuffle off for a shower and some grooming. My head’s pounding and I smell like last night—whiskey, cigar smoke, and residual notes of Tasha’s sweet perfume.

Fozzi’s waiting for me in the living room when I emerge.

He holds up a drink as an offering that I wave away. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Long night.”

“Things go well with Mrs. Falynn’s bestie?”

“So so.”

“How was it?” Fozzi grins, his bushy brows high on his forehead.

“Wipe that big ass grin off your face, pervert. This ain’t no locker room. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“What d’you think about hitting up some casinos today?”

“I’m thinking that’s fine so long as tonight we hit up the Dollhouse again.”

Fozzi’s grin returns. “Two trips in two nights? Somebody’s got it bad.”

“Shut up or I’ll clobber that grin off that face of yours.”

My threat only makes Fozzi laugh and me more disgruntled ‘cuz we both know the truth.

He’s right. I do.

And I ain’t giving up easily.

Second night in a row at the Dollhouse is a case of deja vu. Fozzi walks beside me along with another newer soldier in the Vegas crew, Benny. He’s immediately distracted by some ass and titties, taking a hard left to follow a stripper like a puppy dog as she struts through the lounge section.

Fozzi sticks by my side as we move through the rest of the dimly lit club and its throbbing, seductive beats. The audience is busy watching two nude girls gyrate against each other on stage.

I couldn’t be less interested—I’m scoping out the area for any sign of Tasha. We’re running late. From what I understand, she normally performs by now and then spends half an hour socializing in the lounge.

No matter where I look, there’s no sign of her. It’s possible somebody’s already chosen her for some private time in the VIP rooms.

This thought makes my blood boil. I grit my teeth at the imagery of somecazzoasshole with his grubby paws on her. The possibility she’s being a sex robot for him, reciting all those tired lines she’d tried on me on him, but he’d be just fine with them, whoever he is.

I’m ready to bust down every door of every VIP room when Cami the bottle girl recognizes me.

“Hey, Louis,” she says, smiling with her tray of drinks and bottles and her skimpy outfit. “Back so soon?”

I’m so pissed, I can’t speak. I can only nod.

“If you’re here for Vixen, you’re wasting your time.” She turns to walk off, but I stop her.

“What d’you mean?”

“You won’t find her tonight. She’s not here.”