A week in Las Vegas and she will feel better about herself. At least that is what Dacotah Miller is hoping will be the case.
Left at the alter, heart broken and ashamed, Dacotah takes the opportunity offered by her girlfriends - the chance to get away. The opportunity to escape her mundane life in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin.
But what Dacotah doesn't know is that lurking in Las Vegas is the chance of a lifetime, a dream come true, in the form of Derek Hunter.
Derek, in town on business, can't seem to focus on his purpose once Dacotah walks into his field of vision. She beautiful and just what he needs to cure his desire for a good woman in his bed. Only she presents a challenge to him unlike anything he's ever experienced before.
Dacotah will be wrapped up in a whirlwind of unexpected events that will force her to make a decision, life changing choice. Does she get on the plane back to boring Wisconsin and wonder what might have been? Or will she step on board a private jet that promises to take her on a journey she will never forget?
1 You’re Going…
“Cotah, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Rachel places her hands on my shoulders, like she is ready to shake some common sense into me.
“Rach, seriously? I can’t.”
“Why not? You have nothing holding you here. Nothing,” she says with emphasis. “He’s an idiot. He gave up a good, sure thing for some ho from the wrong side of the tracks. You need to get over it, and Vegas is a great place to do just that.” Rachel knows what to say to crawl under my skin.
Jason and I broke up only a couple weeks ago. When I caught him in the bathroom, during our rehearsal dinner, with that bitch Jessica. I will never forget that night, and right now I feel as though I will never get over it.
Jason and I had been together since our junior year in high school. Twelve years together, and he wasted it sticking his dick in some chick two nights before our wedding.
“I am over it,” I blurt out, but Rachel’s face scrunches up at me and I know she can tell I’m lying.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. When was the last time you even left the house?”
“Uh, this morning. I’m here aren’t I?”
“Jesus, Cotah, your house is right next door. Nice try.”
“I go to work, don’t I?”
“Oh hell, so what? We all do that.” She finally lets go of my arms and goes into the kitchen. She grabs a beer from the fridge, pops the top and slides it across the counter to me. She returns to the fridge to grab one for herself. I look at my watch; it’s ten thirty in the morning. “Seriously. We’re going. You, me and Mandy; no ifs, ands or buts about it.” She takes a drink of her beer. “We leave tomorrow morning.”
“What?” I freeze as the beer spews from my mouth. “Rach, I can’t, I have to work tomorrow.”
“Fuck that place, tell them you quit.”
“Oh yeah, then what the hell am I going to do when we get back?” Rachel just shrugs and gives me a look that says who-gives-a-flying-fuck.
“Worry about it when we get back. Hell Cotah, you have no bills, you live in your grandmother’s house which she left you free and clear. I know damn well you have money in the bank, otherwise you’d be working more than twenty-five hours a week at some lame pizza joint in the middle of Podunk fucking nowhere.”
She’s right, of course. My grandmother left me a small fortune when she died a little over a year ago. I have no family left anymore, and it is just me, myself and I. Lest we forget Mandy and Rachel; two of the only people in this world that mean anything to me.
“Dacotah, you’ve never done anything for yourself. You’ve always done everything for everyone else. It’s time to give up on doing things for everyone, and take action for yourself. Now, let’s go do this and have a great time.”
She has a point. Up until my grandmother died, I’d spent the previous two years taking care of her and working when I could. Maybe it is my fault that Jason cheated on me; I was never around, we hardly ever went out and did anything. He was always so supportive, but in hindsight, I understand why.
By supporting me, he was able to hide the fact that he was cheating on me. After what happened, I’m certain Jessica wasn’t the first woman he’s cheated with.
“You’re twenty-eight years old, you’re single, and you have nothing to lose but the chance to have a great time.”
“Stop thinking about it. Go home, pack up some clothes, and get ready to go. Mandy and I will be at your house tomorrow morning at seven; we’ll drive into Minneapolis and hop a plane to Vegas. It’ll be Friday and we will get there in plenty of time to start partying it up on the strip.”
“Who’s paying for all this?”
She gives me a half smile. “I paid for your airfare. We’ll have to split the cost of the room, and each pay for our own expenses.”
“What happens if I don’t go?”
“Then I’m out three hundred bucks on your non-refundable ticket.”
There it is, the guilt trip that Rachel is notorious for. “I’ll pay for my ticket.”
“I’d rather you just come with us.” She takes a big long chug of her beer then crushes the can in her hand and throws it away. I roll my eyes.
Rachel is a beautiful girl, but redneck is the best word to describe her. She has long chocolate brown hair, brown eyes, and an amazing body. Years of throwing bales of hay around the barn have done her proud. She’s skinny as a rail, looks great in anything she wears and has no problems getting laid. She is about five-seven and her waist looks tiny when she stands next to me.
I’m about five-eight, with long dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and hips that seem to go on for days and complete the hour glass figure that I have. I’m not entirely overweight, but I love my curves. I wasn’t always like this, I used to be Rachel skinny, but over the years, my hips have gotten a little wider, my butt a little rounder and my boobs, well, let’s just say that they are more than a good handful.
“Well?” Rachel interrupts my thoughts.
“Well, what?” I snap, unintentionally. Thinking about my weight and my own insecurities always makes me edgy. But Rachel doesn’t flinch at my tone.
“You’re still standing here.”
“Did you want me to leave?” I ask her, deadpan.
“Only if you’re going to go pack. Otherwise, you can stand here until I convince you to go.”
Ugh! I finally realize what’s the harm in going? I can call Pete and tell him that I need to take a few days off. In fact, I would’ve been doing just that anyway if I hadn’t walked out on Jason. It’s only a week. She can get it out of her system, and leave me alone about getting on with my life.
I put my beer down on the counter. I’ve taken maybe three sips of it. Beer is not my favorite, especially this early in the morning.
I turn on my heels and walk out the front door. Behind me Rachel squeals with delight and I can hear her jumping up and down as the screen door slams shut.I’ve been trying for more than three hours to find clothes to take to Vegas, but I have nothing. Everything I own either looks frumpy or smells like a pizza joint, or they’re old, faded, and in less desirable condition. I do have two decent pairs of jeans and a couple of tops, but that’s it. I wonder if Rachel and Mandy wouldn’t mind a shopping trip in Vegas. In fact, I know Mandy would be delighted. She’s a shopaholic and I have no doubt that shopping is already on the agenda.
Around two, I call Pete, my boss. “Hey Pete, it’s Dacotah.”
“What’s up?” Pete’s a really nice guy; he’s owned that restaurant since just out of high school when his dad retired.
“I need to take the next week off.”
“Uh, Dacotah, you’re not on the schedule for next week.”
“What?” I can’t hide the shock, Rachel.
“You were, um…” he hesitates long enough for me to realize what he is implying without saying it and it all makes sense now. I was supposed to be on my honeymoon this week.
“You don’t need me to come in, do you?” I ask in vain as I know the answer to the question.
“Nope, we’re all set here,” he says back, avoiding the obvious.
“I get it, okay, thanks Pete.”
“No problem.” He hangs up.
“Well, I guess I won’t be losing my job by running away to Vegas.” There is a disappointed feeling that comes with the call and knowing that my last excuse has run out. I realize that I’d been hoping that Pete would need me this week so I could stay. What’s the point in staying?
I pack up the few things that I have to take with me, get my bathroom stuff together, at least the stuff I won’t need in the morning before we leave, and I’m about to head downstairs, with my suitcase in tow, when the doorbell rings. I pause. Rachel or Mandy would just walk right in; they both have keys, not that I lock the door often.
The suitcase clatters loudly behind me as it slides down each step. I’m thankful that I have a decent small, modern suitcase. Something I’d bought in preparation for going to Florida for our supposed honeymoon. When I reach the bottom of the steps, I pull the suitcase near the door and look through the window to see who is ringing my doorbell for the third time.
“Shit,” I reach for the knob and swing the door wide open, nearly knocking my suitcase over. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
The AuthorIt is from Glendale, Arizona that Zoey Derrick, a mortgage underwriter by day and romance and erotica novelist by night, writes stories as hot as the desert sun itself. It is this passion that drips off of her work, bringing excitement to anyone who enjoys a good and sensual love story.
Not only does she aim to take her readers on an erotic dance that lasts the night, it allows her to empty her mind of stories we all wish were true.
Her stories are hopeful yet true to life, skillfully avoiding melodrama and the unrealistic, bringing her gripping Erotica only closer to the heart of those that dare dipping into it.
The intimacy of her fantasies that she shares with her readers is thrilling and encouraging, climactic yet full of suspense. She is a loving mistress, up for anything, of which any reader is doomed to return to again and again.