Stuffed Read online

  Stuffed

  Alexa Riley

  Contents

  Stuffed

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Filled

  Chapter 1

  THICK

  Chapter 1

  Read Me Romance

  Stalk the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

  http://alexariley.com/

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Stuffed

  by Alexa Riley

  Ember works as a cocktail waitress because she’s desperate for the money. But when she’s offered more in the VIP lounge, there are things that she won’t do for cash…right?

  A bachelor party in Vegas is the last place Rogue wants to be. But when the cute cocktail waitress gives him sass, there’s no way he can turn down the challenge. Getting her alone is only a matter of money, but how much will it take?

  Warning: Can something so hot and fast really turn into a Happily Ever After? Grab Stuffed and see if he can make it fit.

  Chapter One

  Ember

  “It fits,” I tell Diamond as she slides her badge over the employees’ entrance scanner. When the door unlocks, we both walk in.

  “Your tits are going to explode out of it.”

  I look down at the black corset top I’m wearing and see she’s right. At any moment I’m going to turn into a Pillsbury can and everything is going to bust free.

  “Isn't that the point, though?” I try to adjust the top, but it’s no use.

  This uniform isn't meant to cover much, and as a cocktail girl at a casino, we’re supposed to scream sexy. It’s something that’s completely foreign to me, but I know the money will be worth it.

  It’s my first day on the floor alone, and I finally get to serve drinks without a shadow. No more training outfit for me because now I’m in the full uniform. A uniform that took both of us to get on. Now I pray it stays in place until my shift is over.

  “I mean, it kind of is, but don’t you want to be comfortable?” Diamond pokes the top of my boobs, which are bulging up practically to my neck.

  “It would be nice to breathe,” I agree, but I think I’m starting to get used to it. Or maybe I'm losing blood flow to my brain, and I’m becoming delusional.

  “We’ll stop at uniforms and see if they have a size bigger for you and your tits. If not, they can order one or something.”

  I grab the top of the corset and try once again to give it a good tug. I’m not used to wearing something so revealing, but the tips are crazy from what my roommate Diamond says. I might be about to pop out of my top, but I think I look pretty damn sexy.

  “Hey, Mitch. My girl Ember is going to need a bigger top.” Diamond leans on the doorframe into the uniform room. Mitch looks over to her and then to me, where his eyes land directly on my chest.

  “You sure you want to cover those up?” he asks as he stands from his desk and grabs a clipboard. “I mean, people pay good money for tits like that. I know I’ve been saving.”

  I snort. “I don’t want to spill out of my top.”

  “You’re going to be making men spill all kinds of things tonight.” He winks and I feel my face flush. As sexy as I feel, I do not foresee that happening. “Turn around and let me see what size you’ve got.” I do as he asks and then I hear him curse.

  “What?” I turn back around wondering what’s wrong with the corset. Thank god I got to pick my own bottoms. The only rule was it had to be black and I was able to find that pretty easy on my own.

  “I’m going to have to see if I can order a bigger size.” I stand there in shock for a moment. I know I’m a fuller girl, but come on.

  “Really?” Diamond looks as confused as me.

  “Sorry, but this is Vegas. They aren't used to having thick girls here, but I’ll see what I can do. Sorry, sugar.” He scribbles the note on his clipboard.

  “I should just lose a little weight.” I let out a long sigh. I bet if I took a few pounds off, I could easily fit in it without tempting a nip slip.

  “Now hang on a second.” Diamond holds her hands up. “When you interviewed to be my roommate, you made it clear you loved carbs. We aren't getting rid of carbs.”

  That actually was one of the questions she asked. We’ve lived together for six months now, but she asked all kinds of crazy questions when I came to see her place.

  “I can’t get rid of carbs, but I could work out.” I’d be hell on wheels without carbs. How can we put people on the moon but we can’t come up with a diet that is strictly carbs? That’s a diet I could get behind.

  “Work out.” Diamond says it like it's a foreign phrase she’s never heard before. At six feet tall, Diamond has a killer body. She has legs for days and can eat anything she wants and not gain a pound.

  “Thanks, Mitch,” I say, knowing we need to get to it since our shift starts in five minutes.

  “No problem. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Let’s go before we’re late.” I link my arm with Diamond’s to pull her along.

  “Work out,” Diamond says again as we go to our shared locker and put our stuff away. Her face is still filled with shock.

  “There’s a gym across the street from our place,” I say as we scan our other badges to clock in.

  “There’s a gym across the street from us?”

  “It’s between the King’s Donuts and the travel agent place.” How did she not see it? It’s pretty freaking big.

  “I thought it was a furniture store. Our neighborhood is going downhill.”

  I take off my sneakers and put on black heels. After a few months of training I’m finally starting to get good at walking in them.

  “I mean, if I just lose a few pounds I’ll fit. It’s not going to kill me.” I put on lip gloss before fluffing my hair. Diamond takes the lip gloss from me and puts it on.

  “It’s your body; you can do whatever you want. It probably wouldn't kill me to work out a little too. Taking the stairs up to our floor is killer.”

  “You take the elevator,” I point out, but we are on the seventh floor of our apartment building.

  “I know, but what if one day I might need to take them?”

  “You just want to see if there are hot men at the gym.”

  “It’s not like there are any here.”

  It’s true. Most of the guys here are three times my age. Although that doesn't stop them from hitting on the girls. I haven't had that happen to me yet, but I’ve also been in slacks and a black button-up shirt until today. Now that I’m dolled up and done with training, I’m ready to see what I can do.

  “Isn't that the truth,” I murmur as I close our locker. We make
our way up to our shift area and I’m surprised when I get the high roller section and a few tables in the poker room.

  “Good luck.” Diamond winks at me before she goes off to her section.

  I wonder if this is some kind of test to see if I can handle this. Noah, my manager, says I’m a little too shy.

  “The uniform looks good on you,” Noah says, and I turn around in time to see my boss running his eyes over me. He clearly doesn't think my boobs are hanging out too much.

  “Thanks.” His compliment feels creepy, but I think it’s because he keeps on staring at me.

  I straighten my shoulders and grab my tray to relieve Cara on the floor. As I get my first round of drinks for the high roller area, I slowly make my way around delivering each cocktail. After a little while, I notice tips are way more than normal. One guy even put his number on the back of a hundred and told me to keep the change.

  As much as it sucks to make money because of my tits, god, could I use the cash. This place pays more than any other job I’ve ever had.

  After my group of high rollers are situated, I step into the poker room. As I move around, I feel a shift. I glance around the giant room and notice it’s only half full at the moment. By the end of the night there won’t be an empty seat. My eyes land on a table occupied by men, which isn’t abnormal. From the looks of it, it’s a bachelor party in full swing, and I try to control my groan. Bachelor parties are the worst. Sucky tips, grabby hands, and always a drunken mess to clean up.

  All of them are hooting and hollering together and having a good time, so I try to put on my best smile. Thankfully it’s only one of my two tables in the room, so I can manage.

  While I walk over, the guys get louder, and there’s lots of cheering. It’s clear they’re all in this to have a good night. Well, almost all of them. One man sitting at the table is staring right at me.

  And for some reason he looks absolutely pissed.

  Chapter Two

  Rogue

  “The bet is to you, sir,” the dealer reminds me, and I don’t look as I reach down and toss a chip in the middle of the table.

  My eyes are on the dark-haired beauty across the room who’s making her way toward us.

  “Rogue, you just threw down a five-hundred-dollar chip,” my brother Angus complains. “It’s still early and you’re not getting out of this that easy.” His voice is low, but there’s no chance the other guys at the table heard him.

  We’re here to celebrate our childhood best friend Franky getting hitched. He wanted to come to Vegas and have a big blow-out, but I declined. Several times. Angus finally showed up at my house the day of and said I didn’t have a choice. It didn’t help that I was the only one in our group that lived here. Angus is only in for the weekend, but he’ll do his best to torture me until he’s gone.

  Franky and his boys from back home shout as someone throws in their hand. I’m still not looking when it comes back around to me and this time Angus grabs a chip and throws it in. I can’t even tell you what cards I’m holding, but as she gets closer, I realize I could describe every detail of her lips.

  “Can I get you gentlemen anything?” Her voice is sweet and soft like she’s from somewhere down South.

  “Must have been a shift change,” I hear Franky leer, and I cut my eyes over to him. “Hey, sweet thing, how about a lap dance for the groom?”

  “Sorry, baby, only drinks tonight.” She fucking winks at him, and I clench my fist on top of the green felt.

  Gritting my teeth, I gulp the last of the Scotch I was carefully sipping and slam my glass down. “Another,” I bark, glad when I’ve got her eyes on me.

  When she walks around the table, everyone watches, and I don’t like it. She comes up beside me, and I get a full view of what she’s got on. A black corset that is having the strength of the metal hooks tested, a short black pleated skirt, and fishnets. There isn’t an inch of her that isn’t wrapped tight by what she’s got on, and it leaves almost nothing to the imagination. I’m hard under the table as she bends low in front of me and her dark hair falls over one shoulder.

  “What are you drinking, sweetheart?” The way she talks makes me sweat, and I wish she’d stop. Without straightening up, she looks over at me with big brown eyes and glossy lips. “You look like a Scotch man to me.”

  “You must be a professional.”

  Her cheeks flush as she stands up and balances the tray on her hip. She ignores me and talks to the other men at the table, and I realize I may have just called her a sex worker. Goddamn it.

  She flirts with the guys, and they’re all hanging on every word she says. She bends over the table to take something from Franky, and I get a nice view of her big round ass. Without realizing it, a groan escapes, and she looks over her shoulder at me for only a brief second before she stands back up again and moves to the other side.

  “That’s what T-Pain calls thicker than a Snicker,” Angus whispers only to me as the woman walks away from our table.

  I ignore him as I turn over my cards and somehow win the pot without even trying. I hate gambling, I hate bachelor parties, and I hate cocktail waitresses even more.

  “She’s just trying to get a good tip,” I grumble.

  Angus shrugs as the next set of cards are dealt. “Nothing wrong with earning an honest living. It’s probably more honest than your line of work.”

  As a divorce attorney in Vegas, I have plenty of unsavory clients that have made me a little bitter over the years.

  “So?” I ignore him as I toss in my chips, suddenly parched for my next drink.

  “But what I found strange was how you couldn’t take your eyes off her.”

  “Casinos put the shiny objects in front for a reason.” I glance up for what has to be the tenth time, and I’m aggravated she’s not back yet.

  “We’ve done our time in Sin City, brother. Tell me you’ve seen a woman like her in a casino before, and we can go home right this second.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him exactly that, but I’ve never lied. Instead I look around the room again and spot her coming with a tray full of shots.

  “Shots, shots, shots!” Franky is chanting with the other guys.

  The woman weaves between chairs and finally makes it to us as she goes around to each person and deposits a shot glass filled with a cloudy mixture in front of them. When she gets to me, she doesn’t put down a shot, but instead gives me a double of my previous drink. I try not to look at her, but I don’t last two seconds. She dips down low beside me like all the other cocktail waitresses are trained to do. She’s close enough that I can smell roses coming off of her.

  “You didn’t strike me as a shot kind of guy, sweetheart.” Her head tilts to the side, and a veil of her dark hair hides a little of the room from us. “But I’m no professional.”

  Her accent is so thick and sweet, I have the sudden urge to apologize. I should, but I swallow it down and keep my eyes trained on her as she makes her way around the room. The pleats on her skirt peek up every time she bends over or dips down, and I know she probably chose that skirt on purpose. Her corset has to be strangling her with how her tits are spilling out of the top and I think about what it would be like to drag my cock over them.

  I drink my Scotch way too fast once again, and I’m warm all over. Too warm.

  When she walks out of the room, I stand up from my seat before I realize what I’m doing. When the table looks at me, I throw my cards in and tell them I’m going to the bathroom. I don’t pay attention if they say anything about my quick departure, but I can feel Angus’s eyes on my back.

  Out on the floor of the casino, it’s loud and the crowd is growing. I would have preferred a high roller room, but the guys Franky brought are more like guppies than whales.

  I see movement at the cocktail counter and walk toward it. They have a bar specifically for the high roller suites and the poker room. When the bartender mixes the drinks, it’s up to the waitresses to dress the drinks and g
rab any food orders.

  I see my brunette at the window waiting on her drinks, and I wonder when she became my brunette. When I walk up behind her, I don’t know what I planned on saying, but I just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

  “I need a drink.”

  She turns around and looks me up and down before a smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “All right, sweetheart, I’ll get you another.” She has the audacity to wink at me and then turn back around.

  If the view of her ass wasn’t so fucking good, I’d be upset. “I want all the drinks.”

  I clench my fists at my side as she looks at me over her shoulder and then turns back around to face me. “What?”

  “How many drinks do you get on a shift?”

  She lets out a laugh and then shrugs. “I don’t know exactly, but it’s more about the tips than the beverages.”

  The honest answer hits me in the chest. “How much would it take to get you off the floor tonight?”

  Her eyes widen and she looks around. “Is there a problem? I’m sorry, I can bring you a shot, you just didn’t—”

  “What would I have to pay to get you to take the night off?” I cut her off, but I don’t care.

  She relaxes a little and shrugs one shoulder. “Oh no, that’s not an Ember question, that’s a Neil question.”

  “That's your boyfriend?” I don’t like how my jaw aches when it pops.

  “That’s my boss, who is right over there watching our interaction.” She reaches out and puts her hand on my arm like we’re deep in a pleasant conversion. “If he thinks you're angry, which honestly you look like you’ve been chewing on nails, he’ll probably give me the night off permanently.” She smiles so big it’s almost fake as she leans into me. “Pretty please with a cherry on top, if you don’t want me to be homeless, let me get back to work.”