THE BOOK SIGNING
"I'm Scott. In case you want to know," he says, still searching the radio. Without answering his statement, I reach toward him, remove his fingers from the music controls, and tap the button to allow my phone to connect to the player.
"Just drive. I don't need small talk."
I hope he heeds my wish because the song I pick is special to Ray and I. 'We Found Love' by Rihanna. Does she know that the hopeless place is Las Vegas? There is no hope to be found here, none at all.
Scott increases the volume and presses the accelerator, merging the car onto the freeway going north. One by one we pass the casinos, which look less glamorous in the daytime. He takes the mid-strip exit and navigates to Flamingo, an area of the city I am quite familiar with, having lived here for a time. The car turns into a private residence near the University, a three story house of fading green paint and disrepair.
The song loops on repeat and Scott leaves the car running after applying the emergency brake. I don't know what he expects at this moment and I won't help him find courage. Do what you will, sir. I feel his palm against my bare leg and turn to face him, still waiting and wondering and wishing to be someplace else.
"How about that drink?" I say when his hand slides under my skirt.
"Yes, let's do that."
Shutting off the engine and grabbing the bag of books, he exits the car and rushes around to my side to open the door for me. This time he takes the cue to accept my arm and leads me towards the house. Two men of age similar to Scott sit smoking on the porch and watch us enter the front door. Scott escorts me through the living room and up a wide staircase to the second floor.
I hear rap music and smell marijuana. The floor of the hallway is a mess of trash and beer bottles and I place my heels with care to avoid twisting my ankle.
"I like what you've done with the place," I say as he turns the key and leads me into the last door on the left.
The room contains only a bed, a dresser, and a micro-fridge. Scott places the books on the dresser and starts throwing clothes from the bed. I open the fridge door to find beer and beer and more beer.
"Where is this vodka?" I ask. He smiles and reaches under the bed to produce the promised bottle. I take a seat and wait while he pours a large amount into a red plastic cup.
Holding his own cup towards me, he sits next to me on the bed, close enough that our legs touch. "Cheers."
"I guess," I say, gulping at the vodka. It burns my mouth, but not in an unpleasant fashion. At least he gave me quality booze. Not much else I can say for the room, for there isn't a poster or other decoration on the walls or door.
"Tell me about your book," he says, putting his hand on my leg once more.
I allow him to rub and stroke my skin while I sip the vodka, enjoying the rush of heat to my brain. "I'm not going to tell you about the book. You have to read it, silly."
He laughs and squeezes my inner thigh. "Will you read from the book for the guys?"
I lift my gaze to meet his eyes and smile, "That's what I came here to do."
Pushing his hand under my panties, he slides a finger into me and returns my smile. "Is that right?"
I nod and close my eyes, enjoying the sensation of him jamming the finger deep inside me again and again. His thumb flicks my clit and I feel an orgasm building. Will this college boy make me cum?
With his other hand he lifts my blouse over my head and unfastens my bra. Mouth finding my breasts, he sucks and bites at my nipples. Heat spreads over my body and my orgasm hits, making me buck and writhe in his hands. Again and again I clench and spasm on his fingers, which he continues to drive deeper and deeper inside me. The orgasm intensifies and seems to play on and on, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing in my body.
After a time I collapse against him, panting and bucking against his fingers, which are still inside me. One hand wraps around my back and he lifts me higher on the bed, placing my head on the pillows. The room spins and I watch him undress, exposing thick chest muscles and taunt stomach. He climbs on top of me without a word, lifting my legs toward my face.
I feel him guide it into me and smile, closing my eyes and relaxing my muscles, content and happy. Oh, how he earned this. I hear his flesh smashing into mine and drift deep inside my mind. Rihanna sings again and again and I see Ray's face floating in the Vegas sky.