Indecent Intent (4 page)

She touched her wrists. They were still a little tender from the bonds she'd been held in. Her shoulders ached and her breasts were also a little sore. She'd not been whipped at all hard, but still hard enough for the touch of her dress to remind her constantly that the flail had been used on her.

‘And if you don't behave,' said Tom, adjusting the tooled leather belt with the silver cow horn buckle through the loops of the fresh pair of jeans he'd put on after a shower, ‘I'll drag you back here, tie you to the bed again, and whip your disobedient butt. Understand?'

Gabrielle understood only too well. He was referring to his gambling. He would take no interference when engrossed in losing their money, and he would do exactly as promised if she did try to interfere.

She watched him stuff the wad of notes that strange man had thrown over her into a back pocket of his jeans. ‘Oh I understand; if I interfere with your gambling, you mean,' she said, wondering as she had wondered so many times before how the man she loved could become such a selfish brute whenever gambling – or the occasional whore – was involved.

Why did she put up with it?

Because he was her husband and she loved him, no matter what, that's why.

‘And you'd be damn right, honey,' he confirmed. ‘Now let's go and have us some fun!'

‘Some of that is my money,' she ventured as they left the room; after all, she'd suffered shameful humiliation for it while Tom had done nothing to protect her honor, preferring to indulge himself with that blonde – right in front of her! Surely she was fully entitled to a share of it?

‘You're my wife, Gabby,' he pointed out unnecessarily as he guided her to the bank of elevators. ‘You're not a whore. Only whores get paid for services rendered.'

‘But you've used me like a whore, Tom.' A sob caught in her throat. ‘What about that time you let Clint fuck me? And all for… for…' She couldn't say it; it was all too, too humiliating. Clint was an old friend of Tom's from school.

Another couple stood waiting for the elevators. They were wrapped in each other's arms, staring deeply into each other's eyes. They were on honeymoon and madly in love, Gabrielle guessed, suddenly feeling sad and envious. This trip was meant to be a second honeymoon for her and Tom, and it had all gone so badly and bizarrely wrong in only a few hours of their arrival at the hotel. The thought made her spirits sink further.

‘For only ten bucks?' finished Tom with a low chuckle, and then the grin faded from his face as quickly as it had come. ‘We needed food, didn't we? It paid for the pizza, didn't it? Don't give me a hard time now, honey. I was only doing the best by my wife.' He smiled and nodded at the other couple, as though there was no tension between him and his wife whatsoever. ‘I don't know about you, but I'm here to enjoy myself as much as I can,' he hissed at her under his breath.

Gabrielle couldn't believe his words, and was suddenly sick of it all; sick of the way Tom treated her; sick of his gambling when they had no money; sick of him being unfaithful, even to the extreme of spending what money they didn't have on whores.

In an instant it all seemed so clear, and she made her mind up there and then; when they got home after their vacation she was leaving him.

What kind of a life was this anyway? Living in a cramped damp trailer in a park on the edge of a swamp. Plagued by mosquitoes most of the year and working all hours as a waitress. She would go back to school. She didn't care if she starved to do it. She would work as hard as she could and get a proper education. Computing – that's what she'd learn! Yes, she would get a
real
life. She would get a real life without Tom!

The elevator arrived at their floor and Tom guided her into it. The other couple followed them, too busy again with each other to care about anyone else. She watched Tom adjust the bootlace tie he wore with his white shirt. The tie was clipped neatly under the collar with a silver cow horn fastening to match his belt buckle. He'd sold every scrap of her jewelry to pay his gambling debts, but somehow he never seemed to want for anything. Gabrielle sighed – suddenly everything seemed to be coming a whole lot clearer.

‘What do you think of Marshall Verity?' Tom suddenly asked.

Gabrielle shrugged, feeling strangely indifferent about everything.

‘Interesting guy, I thought,' he went on, giving the tie clip a polish with his cuff. He patted his rear pocket. ‘Generous, too,' he grinned, then pulled her to him and whispered, ‘I know you were attracted to him.'

She stiffened against her husband's lean body and frowned up into his twinkling blue eyes. He held her closer and surreptitiously caressed her buttocks, stroking the silky material over her firm globes and pushing it into the deep valley between them.

‘We're here for a few days,' he observed, again unnecessarily.

‘So?' Gabrielle challenged, although her body was betraying her yet again; the silky cool caress of her dress between her buttocks was turning her on. She wore no panties, as Tom had ruined the only pair she'd possessed and packed. She had been hoping he would treat her to some nice new underwear whilst on their vacation – but that now seemed a futile hope.

‘Well, don't you see?' he went on in hushed tones. ‘Maybe there's more money to come if you're particularly nice to him.'

Gabrielle wanted to pull away from her husband; wanted to get out of the elevator; wanted to leave the hotel; wanted to get on a plane back to Florida. But he held her easily and possessively, and she did not want to make a scene, and she did not want to incur his formidable wrath.

‘Is that all you think about, Tom?' she said, praying he could not read her thoughts. ‘Money?'

‘Isn't that all
he
thinks about?' he hissed back. ‘That and women?'

Gabrielle could see the other couple glancing at them, their interest in each other distracted for the moment.

‘All you've got to do,' Tom continued, an underlying threat in his tone and in his body language, ‘is be nice to him, honey, and we'll be in clover.' He kissed her forehead and she blinked up at him. ‘Just be nice to him like you were to Clint…'

He sickened her! He was acting like a pimp, and she knew that if she did what he wanted he would only go and lose any money that other creep might pay her on a roulette wheel or a poker game. She was seriously beginning to suspect that this whole trip was really planned for the reason of finding a sugar daddy to milk, and nothing to do with a second honeymoon at all!

The elevator reached the ground floor and, as the doors opened, she heard the sounds of the casino: the music from the quarter machines, the
ping
of the nickel machines, the shouts of joy from the winners as coins clattered into trays.

‘Maybe he'd give us enough to buy a condo,' Tom suggested, his arm around her waist, all charm once again, ‘or even a house. You know how much you've always wanted your own little house, honey.'

‘If you don't squander it in places like this first,' said Gabrielle, her eyes downcast.

‘If he showers money on you like he did today,' he said, holding her tightly, ‘I promise I'll get a real job and never gamble again. I only do it to get a life for you, honey. You know that.'

She could almost believe him, he sounded so sincere. Then he kissed her affectionately, making her question her newfound resolve. Oh, why couldn't it always be like this? Why? She would never leave him if he only did as he continually promised. She still loved him, but how many times had he promised her things would be different…?

He guided her over to the change kiosk and peeled a note from the wad. ‘Enjoy yourself with this, honey,' he said proudly, as if giving her hard-earned wages.

Gabrielle looked at it. ‘Five bucks?' she said miserably.

‘Yeah,' he said with a patronising grin. ‘Get some nickels. It'll keep you busy for an hour or so.'

‘But, what about dinner?' She was hungry and the appetizing smells from the buffet were causing her stomach to grumble.

‘I'll play a few hands of blackjack and then we'll have something to eat.' He'd already pocketed a stack of chips. ‘I'll meet you by the nickel machines.'

The five dollars he gave her wasn't enough to buy dinner and she had no money of her own. With a sigh she bought some coins and made her way to the poker machines, and as soon as she was seated at her chosen one-arm bandit a cocktail waitress appeared and asked what she would like to drink.

‘I don't have any money,' said Gabrielle, feeling her face flush with embarrassment.

‘It's on the house, ma'am,' said the girl, with a smile. ‘This is Las Vegas and you're gambling, so it's on the house.'

‘Oh, of course,' Gabrielle said sheepishly. ‘Then I'll have a pina colada,' she added, naming the only cocktail she knew and suddenly feeling she deserved a little treat.

Then, with the first coin she slipped into the slot she won on a royal flush. Amazed that she could be so lucky she watched, mesmerized as the coins flooded into the tray. Gradually she was beginning to feel good about herself again, Tom forgotten for the moment.

‘Beginner's luck?' said a familiar voice at her shoulder. It was Marshall Verity, accompanied by a different girl.

Gabrielle didn't turn to greet him. If she were cool towards him maybe he would go away, she hoped, remembering what Tom had suggested in the elevator. But he didn't go away. He stayed and sat at the next machine, watching her.

‘Your husband at the tables?' he asked congenially.

Gabrielle nodded, still not looking at him, finding his strange presence unnerving.

‘That figures,' he said, with a cynical smile. ‘Been gone long?'

She wished he would go away; wished the waitress would bring her drink or she would win enough to buy herself dinner. ‘No, not long,' she said tersely.

‘Have you had dinner?' Verity put his hand on her thigh and his touch felt… oh, so much more sensual than it did earlier that afternoon. Was he going to invite her to eat with him? There would be no harm in that, surely? And she was so hungry. She shook her head.

‘Laura and I were just going up to our suite,' he said, smiling up at the dark-haired girl who accompanied him. ‘Since Tom is otherwise occupied, would you care to join us?'

The pina colada was placed on a coaster at the side of Gabrielle's machine and she reached for it, her lips suddenly very dry and her tongue feeling far too large for her mouth. Heaven only knew what she would be letting herself in for if she agreed to go with Verity and his girls.

The cocktail was taken from her. ‘This is far too tacky for someone like you,' said Verity. ‘Don't drink it. Sip champagne with us and enjoy a gourmet supper.' His warm hand was laid on her bare back where her dress cut away and he caressed her skin with manicured nails. The touch made her shudder deliciously. She stood up and looked across the casino for Tom, but there was no sign of him.

‘When I last saw him,' said Verity, ‘he was on a winning streak.' He stood very close to her and his cologne was intoxicatingly expensive. He buried his face in her neck and brushed a kiss there. Gabrielle thought she would swoon with the tenderness of it, and yet, after the afternoon's strange events and what Tom had said in the elevator, could she really trust this man?

‘Say you will join us,' Verity enticed. ‘We would all enjoy your company… there will be just the four of us.'

Gabrielle's empty stomach betrayed her, making the final decision.

Verity gave a low laugh. ‘That's settled then,' he said, interpreting her lingering indecision as acquiescence, taking her arm, and beckoning the other girl to pick up Gabrielle's winnings and follow them.

Trembling against his body Gabrielle felt compelled to walk with him, even though there was no obvious force in his lead. She was very aware of her nakedness beneath her dress, and it was as if he was aware too, although he didn't touch her or even look at her. The sheer black nylon stockings held up by a tiny black garter belt and the high heels of her shoes made her more aware of her vulnerability to the powerful man.

‘Not that way,' he said as Gabrielle stopped by the public elevators. ‘We have a private elevator.' He ushered her through a door and into a narrow softly lit passage. ‘Far from the madding crowd,' he said, with a smile.

‘What do you think of her, Laura?' he asked, as they whisked silently up to the thirty-sixth floor.

The dark-haired girl looked Gabrielle up and down with velvet brown eyes. ‘She's pretty, and her hair is genuinely that colour?' she remarked.

Verity laughed. ‘Indeed, yes,' he said, making Gabrielle blush. ‘I can vouch for that!' And then there was no time to protest, and Gabrielle wasn't sure that she wanted to as he lifted her skirt to display the richness of her pussy bush.

Without hesitating the other girl crowded closer and slipped a delicate finger into the thick curls, and between Gabrielle's sex lips. Unable to resist, Gabrielle leaned back against the padded wall of the elevator and instinctively parted her thighs, grinding gently against the slender intrusion.