Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [63]
Little did they know they were about to service another Prince. Not such a generous one though.
Fantasy had been a working girl for almost two years, while Tia was newer to the game. They’d both come to Vegas hoping to score a gig as dancers in one of the big shows, only it hadn’t happened for either of them. Then along came Yvonne Le Crane, a middle-aged madam always on the search for new girls, and they’d both decided that making plenty of money doing something they usually did for free, was a far better prospect than hoofing in a show six nights a week.
So far they’d had no complaints. However, so far they had not encountered Armand.
‘Strip,’ he ordered, the moment they entered his suite.
‘Where’s the bedroom, honey?’ Fantasy inquired, in the special sexy voice she reserved for clients. Obviously this was a man who wanted to get straight down to business, and that was no problem. The sooner he came, the sooner they’d be out of there.
‘Refrain from speaking, and do not call me honey,’ Armand said, his voice a sharp command. ‘Remove your clothes, leave your shoes on, and climb on top of the pool table.’
Fantasy and Tia exchanged glances. Apparently this was not about to be the sexy little scene they’d choreographed so many times. They’d got themselves a freaky one, the worst kind.
‘Sure, hon—’ Fantasy began to say. Then she got a glimpse of his hard, cold stare, and hurriedly shut up.
Tia, a petite girl, was already divesting herself of her clothes. A simple silk dress, red thong – and that was it. She kept her strappy high-heeled sandals on as requested. Armand’s eyes flicked over her nakedness. Too thin for his liking, and her jutting breasts were obviously fake and oversized for her body. He reminded himself to request women with real breasts in the future.
Fantasy, on the other hand, was the kind of nasty bitch he enjoyed humiliating. She would fight back when he instructed her to do certain things. She would entertain him.
As Fantasy stripped off her clothes, a short skirt and low-cut top, no underwear, he couldn’t help admiring her body. Gleaming ebony skin, long legs, a pierced navel and one pierced nipple. Normally he would watch and instruct; touching hookers was not always for him, he was far too fastidious. But for this one he might make an exception.
‘On the pool table,’ he commanded.
The girls obliged.
‘Now get on all fours and play doggie.’
‘’Scuse me?’ Fantasy said.
‘Do you have a problem with your hearing?’ Armand said. ‘Lick each other’s asses and try to look as if you’re enjoying it.’
‘Fucking perv,’ Fantasy whispered under her breath. But she did as he asked, because like all professionals, the money was waiting at the end of the gig, so did it really matter how she got there?
* * *
Two hours later Armand was picking up his mother. Meanwhile Fantasy was waiting for her car, and bitching to her friend, a valet parker at The Keys, about the kinky customer in the Presidential Suite, a man who’d demanded all kinds of lewd acts and anal sex from her and Tia, then refused to pay extra.
‘Cheap mothafucker,’ Fantasy muttered as she got in her car. ‘Who the fuck he think he is?’
Soon word started filtering up via the staff grapevine about the perverted cheapo in the Presidential Suite. It didn’t take long before the gossip reached the ears of Jerrod.
Call girls were not encouraged at The Keys, but since high-end call girls were a fact of life in Vegas, their existence was tolerated. However, Jerrod had certain standards, and if they came to do a job at the hotel where he was the Head of Security, then they should be paid for their services.
Jerrod decided to do some