Daisy - Sex Stories

Daisy

... “I’m so happy.”

Pete pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Me too.”

They laid in silence, heads turned up to the night sky. Together they drifted in each other’s arms, just as they did on the prairie back at Hollow Creek. Dreams. They had their own and ones they shared. Both were ready for the world and all the adventure Las Vegas would bring.

***

“Mr. Keane, the poker room has opened. The banker needs your signature, sir.”

Aiden Keane sat in a large leather office chair facing a wall of monitors. People from all walks of life passed over the screens. Thousands of guests pulled levers, turned over cards, placed bets in hope for the pay-off that odds predicted were well beyond their reach. His private security room to the back of his suite became a duplicate of the one in the galleys of his casino. A coin of solid gold, dating back to the 1800s, rolled from his index finger over each digit until it reached the pinky, then he began to roll it back. Finger play. Aiden was restless.

“Mr. Keane?”

“That will be all.” He scribbled his signature and answered in a discontented voice.

A silence fell over the room, disturbed only by the soft sound of the door closing with Carlene’s departure. Aiden’s eyes, like the green ice eyes of his father, darted from one monitor to the next. Boredom. It ate away at his patience like a cancer. Maybe it was time to leave Las Vegas. But wherever he went, boredom would surely follow.

Aiden Keane was a self-made man—a man of ...

... means. He owned three of the major casinos on the strip. The Shamrock had been his latest and greatest, a contemporary 50-story casino-resort, with a 70-foot man-made mountain and five waterfalls. The Shamrock had two shopping malls inside, a golf course where former presidents played, and the largest winning casino in all of Vegas.

What does a man who’s done it all, has it all, acquire next? As Aiden stared at the fortune-seekers milling around his slot machines and game tables—like mice in a maze—he chewed over that question. The gold coin flipped, dipped, and rolled from one finger to the next.

Boredom. There had to be a cure.

Chapter Two

Lights.

To Daisy, Las Vegas was an explosion of electricity, one big ball of light and energy, a trillion blinking, glaring, twinkling, flashing lights. She mused that if the Strip was lights, then the inside of the casinos were bells. There were so many dings, beeps, and whistles one sound out blasted the next, until they blended into one long, monotonous tone. And she loved it.

Daisy held her empty white bucket with its green Shamrock close to her chest. The rolls of chance spun under the plastic display at the Wheel of Fortune slot machine. Her body tensed with anticipation. Ding! Daisy’s breath went solid in her lungs. Hope prevented her from inhaling or exhaling. One cherry, two cherries, and an orange—it was over. She lost. Her nostrils flared. She glared at the busted dream. “Muthafucka,” she mumbled. Daisy’s gaze ...