Billionaires in Vegas - Page 4

“Ha! For real?”

“No, but it sounds good.”

“Hmm.” Kathryn considers her options in the midst of her drink. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here considering the way she pouts and grins with the best of them. I’ve dated a ton of women who looked so hot I could barely keep my hands off them. Kathryn is no different in that regard. What she’s taught me is that if I keep my hands to myself long enough, I’ll get an even better reward. Must be the Domme in her. “You and me partying it up in a big kid’s club. I can only imagine what they have there.”

“Sex. Drugs. Rock and roll.”

“And then some.”

She smiles, all devils, no angels. “We’ll go. If you promise to show me a helluva time that will make me forget who I am by tomorrow.”

“Hopefully not too much.” I smile back at her. “I would like to remember what we do tonight. Like when we get back to our hotel room.”

“Who says we have to wait? Maybe we’ll get busy there.”

She’s off her stool, grabbing her sweater, and making sure her phone is secure before stalking off. I have no choice but to follow—and then lead, because I’m the one who knows where this place is!

Kathryn

When I was in college, you bet your ass I was in the club every other weekend getting fucked up and, well, fucked.

I’m not in college anymore. For goodness sake, I am almost thirty. Okay, twenty-eight. That’s thirty in women talk.

Point being, I have no business being in a regular Vegas club full of twenty-somethings on break and older Joes who are trying to forget how old they really are. I’m a classy gal. I want everyone around me to reflect my posh, sophisticated background.

Namely, I want everyone hopped up on coke and crying about daddy’s money running out. So they can get more coke.

I don’t know how we ended up in a place like this, but the drinks are spendy and everyone talks as if they’ve come from LA or Boston. Not New York. Boston. My people!

We’re tucked away in some large, one-floor club on top of a high-rise. The windows are reinforced because rich kids are fucking dumb. Even the outdoor pool is carefully monitored and surrounded by large, glass windows to keep people from falling off the damned building. Not that I’m going out there. I’m content to sit inside the club, surrounded by men in suits, half-suits, and cardigans, hocking back alcohol while club music blares into my skull. This is what God has intended for a woman of my background.

Ian brings us a second round of shots. I’m feeling pretty chipper. It’s probably the alcohol. It’s also probably the sexual charge filling this room as rich bastards go after the daughters of their business associates. This isn’t The Dark Hour, the upscale BDSM haunt back home, but this is a club in a city that hails to forget all your sins as soon as you get on a plane, so these dudes sporting huge boners are honing in on every piece of fresh blond and brunette meat they can. While my boyfriend was gone, more than one guy offered to buy me a drink and get underneath my skirt.

“One, two...” On the count of three we swallow our shots. The alcohol burns all the way down, and I’m in heaven. Warmth is flooding me. Everything sounds like a great idea. When Ian, who has left his jacket at the coat check, pulls me into his embrace and shares his aftershave with me, I am ready to make out with the hottest guy in the room. Because, excuse me ladies, he is!

Yeah, that’s another reason to be happy tonight. I’ve got a hot boyfriend who can’t keep his hands off me. What woman wouldn’t be swooning?

“You are so hot,” Ian murmurs in my ear. We sway back and forth in our seats, the alcohol already getting the better of us. “All three of those men wanted you, but they couldn’t have you, because you’re all mine.”

I purred against his shoulder, feeling the envious eyes of half the men in the room on me. “Hate to break it to you, but they weren’t the only ones. I’ve got my pick of dudes in this club.”

“You think I don’t sense them sniffing around you? I’ve got half a mind to take you back to our room and fuck you until everyone in this city knows that you belong to me.”

“I belong to no man, Mr. Mathers,” I say with a hiss between my teeth. “I’m my own woman, and I make my own decisions about what I want.” I smile. “And I want... you.”

“I bet you do.”

“No, no, you don’t get it.” I lick the bottom of his ear, my hand snatching his thigh to make sure I’m getting the reaction I want. Yup. One erection, coming right up. “I want you.”

Tags: Cynthia Dane Billionaire Romance
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