Chapter 19

Author’s Note: Sorry, not sorry, but we’re going back to Vegas. We’ve never had John, Kat, and Jess there together before! This will be fresh. There are so many aspects of Vegas we haven’t explored. We’re going to do that over the coming chapters, and it’s important to refocus on this threesome. It will set up and launch the next phase of Highway to Hell?, so thanks for reading, your patience, and your feedback.

“Could we do my early morning quickie tomorrow?” Rita asked over the phone.

“I would love that,” I told her, “but the girls have something planned for me. I don’t know what it is, but we’re flying out this morning and won’t be back until Friday.”

“That sounds like fun,” she said. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know!” I said. “Total surprise. I hope I’m still alive this weekend! Do you want to play some tennis?”

“Yes,” Rita said quickly. “I’m going to need it really badly.”

“Hubby not going to give you what you need?” I said, taunting her.

“I think he has a new girlfriend,” she said with genuine distress. “When he gets infatuated, he doesn’t touch me.”

“I’m pretty sure that should be a federal crime,” I said. “I’m going to miss you, Rita. But I will more than make it up to you when these girls bring me back, okay?”

“That sounds perfect,” she said. Rita paused. I heard her take a deep breath. “John, I’m going to miss you.”

“I told you I was going to make you crave anal, Rita,” I said and chuckled.

“I’m being serious,” she said. “I...” she stopped.

“You, too, Rita,” I said. I let that linger. “I wish you were coming with us. Maybe you and I could find time to have a getaway next time hubby is down hunting or using that as an excuse to bone whatever floozy he’s fallen in with next, okay?”

“I’d really like that,” she said.

I liked her vulnerability. It was hard at a moment like this not to believe my cock was a magic wand.

“Let’s plan it as soon as I’m back,” I said. “I’m picking up Kat, so I’ve got to go. But I’ll text you.”

“Send me pics and videos if you want,” she said.

“You might not like them,” I said.

“It’s the only thing that’ll get me off,” she said.

“Talk soon, beautiful,” I said.

“Bye,” she said, and we hung up.

Rita Johnson was on the hook. I smiled as my Maserati sped down the freeway toward the football team’s training facility. I had to admit I respected David Johnson’s tenacity when it came to Kat. I also admired his power play over her, demanding the anal session she had promised him and getting it on his terms. That’s why I was headed to a seedy motel at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday.

Johnson had given Kat an address and a time – 8 a.m. Tuesday at a Scottish Inn near the team’s practice bubble. He told her to get a room and pay for it, another bold move. It was $40 for two hours. Kat had obeyed, taking an Uber, so Jess and I could finish packing for the surprise trip the girls were taking me on that day. Our flight was wheels up at noon, and we had no time to waste.

I had been to this shitty Scottish Inn before, years ago, during a phase when I liked to fuck naive, new hookers who advertised on Craigslist. It was a true dump, the perfect place to make any girl feel like a whore. I wanted to shake David Johnson’s hand for degrading Kat this way. She loved the finer things. To see her slumming it at a $20 an hour motel with stained linens, a tube TV, and single-ply toilet paper so she could get fucked in the ass by an all-pro linebacker made my cock hard. She truly was a whore.

It was absurdly out of place when I gunned the Maserati into the parking lot of the rundown, two-story motel. Kat had texted me the room number, and I parked between a rusted out Toyota pickup truck and sun-damaged Honda Civic. As soon as the engine whined its high, taut notes as I put it in park, Kat opened the door that sat directly in front of me. She walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and slid into the soft leather seat. She wore heels, a sun dress, and her usual oversized sunglasses. I admired that she unapologetically was herself, even in a sleazy setting. When she closed the door and leaned over to kiss me hello, I noticed the smell of weed on her.

“I am definitely a whore, daddy,” Kat said. She was thoroughly stoned.

“You’re high,” I said and pulled her lips to mine. “You look fantastic.”

“I’m so excited for our trip, daddy,” she said. “I’m sorry I had to do this. But you say it yourself. We have to take care of our obligations first, then it’s time for fun.”

“And what were your obligations today?” I asked knowingly.

“Davey fucked my ass so hard,” she said, twirling a ringlet of her hair. “We smoked some weed, and he came inside me twice, then he had to go to practice.”

“Sounds like you were a very bad girl,” I said, putting a hand on her exposed thigh.

“He made me cum really hard,” she said. “Are we going to get Jess or meeting her at the airport?”

“We’re going to get her,” I said.

“Goodie,” Kat said. “I hoped so.”

“What have you girls got planned?” I asked.

“Daddy, you know I can’t tell you that,” Kat said with a giggle. She glanced at me. I loved her. She had only gotten more gorgeous. I couldn’t imagine life without her or Jess.

“Doesn’t keep me from trying, Kitty Kat,” I said. “I’m dying to know. I’m not used to surprises.”

“Well, here’s a surprise,” Kat said. She reached into her purse. “Davey tipped me a thousand dollars anyway!”

“That should tell you how good your ass is, baby,” I said.

“It makes me feel invincible, John,” she said. “I’m not going to lie. I love this. These guys are powerful. They’re famous. They’re throwing piles of money at me to fuck me. These are the types of guys I would always fuck for free.”

“You’re worth it,” I said and squeezed her hand. “I can’t believe this is our life.”

“Just wait, darling,” she said. “The next three nights are going to take you places you never even dreamed.”

“I’m not going to lie,” I said. “Hearing you say that makes me wonder if I shouldn’t be a little scared!”

“Jess and I are harmless, daddy,” she said, turning on her saccharine voice. “Do you remember when we were in Vegas, and you told me to just trust you? And you made me turn a trick for you and do all sorts of naughty things?”

“Of course, Kitty Kat,” I said. “I’ll never forget that. It might be the best weekend with the best memories of my whole life.”

“This is going to be that for you,” she said. “Or, at least, I hope so.”

I kept her hand in mine and drove too fast back to the house. When I screeched into the driveway, Jess was standing on the front porch. She wore a short tennis skirt, sleeveless button-up polo style shirt, and her Chanel sunglasses. She grinned like a Cheshire cat. I was surprised that there was only one suitcase.

“Didn’t we pack more?” I asked, as I stepped out of the car.

Jess just kissed me hello on the lips and said, “We are good, baby. Let’s go. We can’t be late.”

I heaved the suitcase into the trunk, and we sped to the airport. Jess sat in the back seat, leaning forward toward the center console in the front. She passed Kat a coke bullet, and they each hit it aggressively.

“So it’s going to be that kind of trip, huh, girls?” I said.

Jess snaked her hand up the back of the seat and across my chest.

“You have no idea, my love,” she said.

She pushed the bullet under my nose, and I took a quick bump. This was foreign territory. Regardless of how wild the past few months had been, the three of us had established a great routine, a comfortable field of debauchery we ran within. It occurred to me that, as exciting as it was, it had become a bit predictable. For the first time in a long time, I stepped into genuinely uncertain waters. At least, uncertain waters that I could control. Or thought I could control.

Twenty minutes later, carrying mild buzzes, we pulled into the general aviation entrance at Hobby Airport. I knew we were flying private somewhere, but that was it. I felt completely at ease when we walked up the steps of our usual Gulfstream G600. At the cabin’s entrance, there stood Christy, our flight attendant, with glasses of Champagne on a silver tray.

“Welcome back, Mr. Cameron,” she said.

“Christy, I’m always so happy to see you,” I said.

Kat and Jess kissed her on the cheek as they picked up their glasses.

“Tell me you’ll at least join us for a round,” I said to her.

“You know I’m working, Mr. Cameron,” Christy said.

We sat down, strapped in, and within five minutes were airborne. I had flown a lot, so I noted that we took the usual ascent pattern, then headed west.

“Is it LA?” I said, looking at Kat. I wondered if we were going to see her old friend Kelly.

“It could be,” Kat said. “We are going west.”

Jess busied herself chopping up lines of cocaine after pouring the contents of a vial out on the silver tray that a short time before had held our Champagne glasses.

“It really is going to be this kind of trip, huh?” I said, looking at Jess.

“When have we had any other kind?” she said playfully. Her eyes betrayed warmth and mischief. I was so curious about what they had in store for me.

“Touché,” I said.

“Christy,” Kat called. “We’re ready for snacks!”

Christy reappeared, carrying a beautifully composed charcuterie board.

“Girls, you’ve gone above and beyond!” I told them.

We were plowing through the first bottle of Champagne. Kat and Jess exchanged a conspiratorial look.

“Mr. Cameron, you ask me so frequently, but would you really mind if I join you?” Christy asked. She smiled her warm, flight attendant smile. She was like a shorter, brunette version of Rita but without the classy edge to her. She had an aquiline nose that gave her a slightly mousy appearance. Her breasts were high, proud, and obviously fake. She had an overly eager attitude.

“I ask you because I want you to join me,” I said. “Can I pour you a glass for once?”

“I’d love that,” Christy said and took a seat next to Jess, across from me.

I grabbed one of the extra glasses that sat on the side of the table and filled it for her. To my surprise, Christy also accepted the straw Jess handed her. To my even greater surprise, she effortlessly snorted two lines of cocaine. She handed the straw across the table to Kat and rubbed her nostrils.

“When I was in college,” Christy said, “I was a trainer for the baseball team. I’d do lines off their dicks and then suck them off. I called it polishing their bats.” She laughed, and we looked at each other in surprise.