ACE: Las Vegas Bad Boys Read Online Free Page A

the walls of the dimly-lit room. It’s a dream in here, nothing like Janie’s crap apartment that I’m using while she’s in the ICU.
    But even with all this jaw-dropping interior design work, my eyes can’t help but stay on the hallway guy, can’t help but wonder if his dark green eyes want to undress me as much as my blue ones want to rip off his suit.
    Gah. Here I am, at my biggest gig since getting this cocktail job, and I’m thinking about the cock of a legit stranger.
    Get a freaking grip, Emmy!
    But I have an inkling he’s thinking the exact same thing. He looks me up and down, as if swallowing me whole. Fuck, I want to swallow him whole … and I don’t even know what sort of package he delivers … not that I can’t make a guess by the large, tight bulge I saw in his pants earlier in the hallway.
    He waves me over and I take a deep breath, knowing I need to serve the clients without thinking about screwing them.
    Claire told me the number one thing to remember about this job tonight was to act professional. No flirting, no wagging my ass for extra tips—I’d get those just by showing up. All that’s required of me is to straight-up take the drink orders and serve the beverages for the private party.
    I walk to the table where he sits with three other men, all handsome, all way out of my league. I’m small town through and through, and these boys are city slickers … I have no interest in getting greased up by them.
    Well, that isn’t entirely true … the hallway dude is seriously turning me on as he rubs his hand over his jaw, as if debating the next move. I can’t tell if the move is about the poker game or me.
    Knock it off, Emmy —of course he’s thinking about the game. There are easily half a million dollars worth of chips on the table. The truth of that hits me in the gut—that amount of money could change someone’s life. My life. Forever. And for these guys it’s chump change.
    Still, it isn’t my business whose money is up for grabs and how often.
    I am on the clock.
    “What can I get you?” I ask him politely, as if we hadn’t sort-of met earlier. Discretion is important in Vegas.
    “You know what I want,” he says, his voice low so only I can hear his words.
    Looking down at myself, I see my nipples are standing at attention through this pleather leotard. I lick my lips cautiously, wanting to press myself against him, but also determined not to lose a grip while working tonight. If he gets me too hot and bothered, it will be obvious in this outfit. If I get wet again, like I did in the bathroom, everyone will know.
    Besides, sex isn’t going to solve any of my problems … so maybe I should focus on my actual job instead of, you know, this man.
    “So, another whiskey?” I ask, taking the empty glass from the coaster on the table, noting that his drink of choice matches mine. Though surely he drinks from a shelf I’ve never been able to reach.
    “Perfect. Boys, what can she get you?” he asks the guys at the table, and I look them over more closely.
    These men are strong, capable—everyone here is dripping with a cockiness that only a man who is never denied what he wants can claim.
    I feel denied everything. Moving here for Janie has been so hard … so lonely. I want to go back to my normal—I want to start grad school, become a social worker so I can help kids who grew up like me. Dirt poor, with shit parents.
    I want to return to my job at the bar near campus—only this time I’ll keep my vow of never dating an asshole again. God knows I’ve had more than my fair share. Basically, I’m ready to be a legit grown-up.
    The next guy I date is going to take me out to dinner at Olive Garden and watch Netflix with me on the couch. I want what Claire may have found: a boyfriend who works at a car lot and is in a bowling league.
    I want a bowling-league relationship, a pitcher of beer guy who wants a picket fence. I’m ready to have a regular life.
    It has been so lonely