Getting Naked at the Hilton Read online

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  Copyright ©2008 by Dee Dawning

  First published in extasybooks.com, 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Epilogue

  About the Author

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  Getting Naked at the Hilton

  by

  Dee Dawning

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Getting Naked at the Hilton

  Copyright © 2008 Dee Dawning

  ISBN: 978-1-55487-006-6

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

  Look for us online at:

  www.extasybooks.com

  To the wonderful women of the world who love sex as much as I do and are reading this, I adore you. Each and every one.

  Chapter One

  They Meet

  "They were nude but they were not ashamed.” Furthermore, because God created it, “The human body can remain nude and uncovered and preserve its splendor and its beauty."

  —Pope John Paul II, from Genesis

  Stood Up? No fucking way. I scrutinized my watch for the umpteenth time, as if the minute hand would go backward instead of forward and I would not yet have been stood up. Eleven-forty-five was not eleven o'clock. Where the fuck is she? Again, my eyes looked around the bar searching for her curvy form heading my way.

  Could she have had car trouble? No, she'd have called. My jaw tightened in denial, though the inexorable fact of her ‘no show’ proved I had indeed been stood up. Too bad, I really liked Carol, her casual attire but formal appearance, with not a hair of her highlighted pageboy out of place, her sexy blue eyes and friendly smile.

  As I tapped my fingers impatiently on the bar and glanced around again ... God is paying you back for all those wicked, sinful one night stands, my Reverend Pat Robertson whispered in my ear.

  I felt a flush of annoyance across my face “Fuck you, Reverend Robertson! And fuck the horse you rode in on. What's that, Pat? You're can't ride a horse. Well ... well then fuck Carol, too!"

  "You sound rather perturbed.” A smoky feminine voice came from my left. “So, do you know the Reverend Robertson personally?"

  Damn! I grimaced and looked down at the scarred wood of the bar. I must have said that out loud.

  Slowly turning my head to the side, I expected to see a Brunhilde type, but was stunned to find a longhaired brunette knockout staring at me with startling grey-blue eyes. Wow! Carol who?

  As she studied me, amusement gleaming from her mesmerizing eyes, her pretty head cocked and rested on her fist, her lips formed a lopsided smile. I was dumbfounded.

  My gaze drifted, taking in dark tanned skin contrasting sharply with the orange and yellow print halter and skirt that left her midriff exposed to my scrutiny. A diamond and pearl pin adorned her navel. Her bare thighs and calves were lithe but shapely with beige canvas two-inch wedge sandals on her narrow feet. Gotta love Las Vegas in July! A hundred degrees at midnight and beautiful, near naked women.

  * * * *

  My lips twitched with ill-concealed humor at the handsome man's faux pas. I couldn't hold back against my disloyal mouth as I felt it form the dreaded lopsided grin.

  Earlier, I noticed him as I took the open captain's chair next to him. I snuck a peek at his reflection in the mirrored back bar, but he seemed engrossed with some inner conflict. I was pretty sure he'd been waiting for someone. Glancing from his watch to the entrance and back again, he finally commenced to air his grievances, albeit under his breath, about fucking Pat Robertson, his horse and someone named Carol. Having piqued my curiosity, I turned toward him and inquired if he knew the reverend.

  His body angled in my direction, his head turned, eyes unmoving, on mine. Intense blue eyes glowed with appreciation as they scanned down then up my body. I suddenly realized how attracted I was to him. Close cropped sandy hair, chiseled cheekbones and strong chin gave the impression of rugged strength complementing the wide shoulders and narrow hips of his strong athletic build.

  "Hi. I'm Rachel Cooke.” I offered my hand and when he took it, I said, “You didn't answer my question. Do you know the Reverend Robertson personally?"

  He hadn't released my hand when he answered, “Scott Rader. Actually no ... well yes. Not the Reverend Robertson you are thinking of. I mean ... I know who he is all right. I've seen him on TV. Who hasn't? The Reverend Robertson I was referring to is my Reverend Robertson."

  The slight inflection on ‘my’ told me there was something interesting here. “Really? Your own personal Reverend Robertson? You have my attention. Please go on."

  He gave a sheepish grin while answering, “This is embarrassing. Are you sure you want to hear about my Rev?"

  "Absolutely. I'd love to hear all about him.” I leaned forward in my chair to listen carefully but Scott's furtive glances kept distracting me, making it difficult to concentrate on his words. Those blue, blue eyes. And those lips, I couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like.

  He picked through the bowl of pretzels in front of him. “I guess the reverend is my personal imp. When I'm about to make a questionable decision, he stands on my shoulder and whispers in my ear."

  Scott cast a longing gaze at me. “You know,” he paused, “you have two of the prettiest...” His torrid gaze traveled up and down my body again like a slow, heated caress, “eyes!” He grinned like a thief after a big score with that proclamation.

  Courtesy of my mother's dark ancestry, my complexion covered the heated rush raging through my skin. “Thank you.” God, he's hot! And knows exactly what to say ... "You're sweet. However, you're not going to change the subject that easily."

  He slid his chair closer to mine until the sides were touc
hing and he leaned over to whisper, mere inches from my ear, “I'll tell you all about the Rev and me, but let's go somewhere fun to do it."

  His cologne fired along my senses with its masculine balm forcing my pulse to jump and flutter. Is it hot in here? My rising temperature made me want to fan myself to cool off. I needed to fan under my skirt to quench the fire there, too.

  "Like where?” I responded quickly. So much for propriety.

  "Do you like to dance? I know this great place called Pussy Cats. How about it?” His mouth was saying dance club but his eyes were conveying king sized bed. Or maybe that's what I wanted to hear. No! Shame on me for having wicked thoughts. I'm not going to jump in his bed on the first night.

  Not about to let my restrained lust show, I asked, “How are you ever going to tell me about the Rev in a noisy club?” I suppressed a snicker.

  Not missing a beat, he replied, “We can talk about it when the band takes a break and while they're playing, I could whisper in your ear. If that doesn't work, we could go someplace else."

  Remembering the fire he stoked when last he whispered in my ear, I replied breathily, “I can hardly wait."

  * * * *

  Situated on the Strip south of Circus Circus Hotel, Pussy Cats was the in club of the moment. Its ultra modern stainless steel motif catered to the beautiful people of Vegas and adventurous, well-heeled tourists. The drinks were expensive, the music loud, the mood seductively dark and the women ... as always, the women were hot! But none hotter that night than Rachel Cooke.

  Gyrating with the best of them to the sexy rhythm driven beat, Rachel in her scanty attire with her lissome, sexy frame was a show within a show on Pussy Cat's dance floor. Drinking in her marvelous undulating form, visions of her transferring those sexy dance moves with my cock buried in her, teased my brain. Goddamn! Can she move. I'll bet she's a fucking nympho in the sack.

  The only thing preventing my libido from tenting my pants was the energy I was expending keeping up with Rachel's wild moves. Out of breath and near passing out from exertion, the ending of the third heart pumping, high tempo dance number was going to be the death of me. And then, salvation. Taking pity on the sweaty dancers, the band played a slow song.

  A frenzy of excitement settled in the pit of my stomach as I trapped the hot little minx in my arms. She wrapped her arms around me and nuzzled in close. Damn, she feels good. A few inches below me in height, everything seemed to line up to erotic advantage.

  Cradled against my thighs, her breasts against my chest, the music created a sensual rhythm that no longer moved our feet but swayed our bodies tighter together. My erection surged between us when she nestled in even closer. My hands slid down and grasped her shapely ass, feeling the seams of her skimpy panties through the flimsy fabric of her mini-skirt. She exuded sex—raw sex. I was hard as a hammer and with the subtlest of movements, pressed it into her abdomen to feel her response. She pressed back. Oh, yeah!

  Feminine hands slid from my back and moved around to my chest. For a few seconds they rested on my upper chest and she snuggled her pretty face into the crook of my neck, but as I continued to press my hard groin into her, and squeeze her buttocks, her right hand moved up behind my neck.

  Long graceful fingers pulled my face toward her upturned lips and as our mouths clashed, I nibbled on her warm, pliant lips. A charge of voltage ran clear to my toes as her tongue parted my lips and brushed across my teeth. She was the aggressor and I the all too willing recipient. A groan escaped me as her greedy tongue darted in and she responded to my grinding hardness by matching my thrusts and pushing her hot pussy into my rigid cock. My body was shaking, boiling up and on the verge of losing control. Carol never affected me this way. Damn, I want what she's offering! This pretty piece of flesh must be mine tonight!

  * * * *

  Scott was getting me going. Everything was playful and fun. Then a favorite of mine, a slow romantic song came on and his arms encircled me, pulling my body closer to his. With my breasts crushed tightly against his massive chest and his clever hands fondling my ass, my nipples grew sensitive. He was hard and letting me know it, pushing the bulge in his pants into my abdomen. A sensual cloud passed over me and I reacted, not as intended but instinctively, pulling his face towards mine. My tongue slipped between his lips and explored his mouth while my wet, hot, hungry sex pushed into his compelling erection. Lost in an erotic haze of lips and tongues and twisting, slick friction ... I suddenly noticed the quiet.

  Breaking the kiss, I glanced around. The music had stopped and the band had left the stage on a break. The dance floor was empty except for one other couple who were getting it on in front of everyone. Is that how we look?

  Feeling a flush, I pulled away. Still holding his hand, I gave him a sideways glance before leading him back to our table.

  Hot from the dancing and our ill-advised interlude on the dance floor, I greedily finished my drink. Scott guzzled the remainder of his drink too.

  I thought Scott would order more drinks but instead, he leaned over. The scent of his spicy cologne and the thrill of his hot breath on my ear as he whispered into it made me gasp with anticipation. “Would you like to go somewhere more private?"

  As if doused with cold water, I pulled away and stared at his expression. There was seduction in his hungry eyes. Who could blame him? I had initiated the kiss, gotten wound up and responded to him lustily. The kiss was to die for. The suspicion that he would be great at other things too had me clenching my thighs together.

  I'm all in favor of a dreamy, hot, sweaty roll in the sack, swapping body fluids with a handsome man. And Scott was certainly handsome enough that I weighed it. His lean physique riding atop my dark tan frame was something I had even pictured, but this was just too quick and unexpected for me.

  Coquettishly, I asked, “Private? Where did you have mind?"

  Without hesitation, “We could go to my humble abode."

  I felt my eyebrows rise. Though my body was more than willing, my mind took charge. “Do I strike you as being particularly easy? Hey, Rev. Where are you? Your boy is having naughty thoughts."

  It was dark, but I could still see the light skinned Scott blush red. “No, Rachel, you misunderstand my intentions. I meant just to talk, so we could get to know each other."

  I blinked at him in disbelief. Right, sarcasm coloring my thoughts. “You must be joking! Let me tell you. I just read a book where the main character said, ‘Can you think of a better way to get to know him?’ after telling her friends, she had sucked and fucked her newfound beau. Is that your idea of how we should get to know each other?"

  "No, of course not. I just want to get to know you, the lively, articulate, spontaneous, intelligent person you are. If fact, if you were sitting here naked, right in front of me, I wouldn't lay a hand on you. We would just talk. I swear.” Folding his arms together as if making a point, he gave a brisk ‘so there’ nod.

  I was unable to keep a smirk from forming on my lips. “Is that right? You were doing fine until that last sentence. Tell you what, we'll go somewhere private all right, but not on your home turf with candles and sensual music.” I flicked my wrist, as if to sweep away a bad idea, “which I'm sure you have at your pussy pad, to set the mood for seduction."

  * * * *

  Why was I having trouble figuring this girl out? I said all the right things. Rachel wanted to screw. The episode on the floor showed me that. Yet, she resisted. Should I force the issue? Naw, that might piss her off and I don't want to do that. There is just something about her that really appeals to me. What do I want?

  My phone buzzed like an angry bee at my hip.

  "Excuse me a minute. I have a call,” I apologized to Rachel before hitting the green button, “Hello?"

  "Hi, Scott. It's Carol. I wanted to let—"

  I stood up placed a hand over the mic and said, “I'm sorry, I have to take this call,” before stepping a few paces away.

  Covering my other ear, I spoke as softly as possi
ble in Pussy Cats, “Carol, where are you? I waited an hour for you, even tried to call you and there was no answer."

  She sounded frantic, “That's what I started to tell you. The police had me tied up. They wouldn't let me leave, nor would they let me make or receive calls or go to the damn bathroom, for heaven's sake. Scott, I was a witness to a deadly assault on a customer. A raving, screaming woman came in waving a gun and shot her husband right in front of me, while he was playing a poker machine. I'm sorry, Scott, I was really looking forward to our date, but after this, I'm just not up to meeting you tonight."

  "My God, are you all right?"

  I glanced at Rachel. She flashed her quirky lopsided smile and I barely heard what Carol said. “Yes I'm fine. Just rattled. Can we do it another time?"

  God, Rachel is fucking hot! “Sure, don't worry about it. I'll call you."

  "Will you? For sure?"

  "Yes, I promise.” Maybe.

  "Good, you won't regret it, if you know what I mean."

  "I think I know what you mean and I'm looking forward to it. Bye, Carol."

  "Bye, Scott."

  Why does fucking Carol suddenly seem unimportant? It's all I thought about all day. I closed the cover, stared at Rachel and I knew why. Taking my seat next to her, I smoothly placed my arm on the back of the booth behind her. I felt a little like a cad, because I was more glad than sorry by Carol's no show. Rachel was infinitely more interesting than Carol and so fuckable. I would do whatever it took to seduce Rachel. But if, for some unlikely reason, it didn't work out ... there was always Carol and Jannine and Sue. Fuck Carol, Jannine and Sue. I must have Rachel!

  Rachel placed her soft hand in mine. “You seem distant. Is everything okay?"

  My conversation with Carol had thrown me a little, but not as much as Rachel. “I think so. It's nothing that affects me. A friend witnessed a shooting and was shook up."

  Rachel's mouth made a little ‘oh’ of shock before putting sound to it. “Oh, my goodness! Is your friend all right? Do you need to go see him?"