Bradley

 

Jesus, fuck me. Watching her tits bounce with the turbulence is wreaking havoc on my restraint. Lexi was always a cute kid, and you could see even then that she’d be pretty when she grew up. It’s been years since I’ve seen her, though, and in no way was I expecting her to be this gorgeous. She’s the bombshell beauty of my dreams. I begin to repeat in my mind what is fast becoming my personal mantra. My best friend’s little sister. My best friend’s little sister.

I reach for my scotch and down it in two gulps, the satisfying burn chasing the liquor all the way to my stomach. It does nothing to calm me. My head may know she’s off-limits, but my aching cock clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.

I look over at her, moving my hands to my lap to hide the situation in my pants. My traitorous cock is at full salute, nearly waving at her. I watch as she moves her wavy, blond hair to one side, baring her neck as it practically calls out to me to run my tongue down the column of smooth skin, biting, nipping, and kissing it along the way. My best friend’s little sister. My best friend’s little sister.

Bloody hell, I need to get laid before I end up fucking my best friend’s little sister. There is no way in hell I can fuck her without Sterling finding out. He’s like a brother to me—the only family I have—and I’m not going to let my dick lead me down this path. Nope, not me.

“Okay, my turn,” she says as she shifts in her seat, her shoulders moving in such a way as to display the sexy curve of her clavicle, and the image of caramel dripping from it into her cleavage as I chase it with my tongue pops into my head. “What’s your favorite…”

I don’t even hear the rest of what she asked because my head is too full of images of her neck, breasts, and fucking caramel.

“I’ll be right back,” I blurt before getting up and going straight to the bathroom. I enter, closing the door behind me and sliding the lock into place.

I look into the mirror as I turn the water on. I can’t bend over in the tiny space to splash water on my face, so instead I grab a paper towel and saturate it before pressing it over my face. I can practically feel steam rising off my skin at the contact with the cool towel.

“Bloody fucking hell,” I spit out, completely unnerved by how crazy she is making me. “Focus, arsehole.” I look into my eyes as I scold myself sternly. “She’s Sterling’s sister. His little fucking sister. The little sister he would castrate you for even thinking about this way. You’ve got to get a handle on it, mate.”

I toss the paper in the trash and unlock the door. As I step through it, I run right into Lexi. “Hey,” I say as she slides right by me on her way in, the front of her rubbing against me. I barely manage to stifle a groan as the hard-on that had calmed down a bit surges back to life and presses painfully against my zipper. The plane jerks and she falls further into me, and my hands automatically fall to her waist to steady her so she doesn’t fall.

“Are you okay?” I ask her while I turn us so we aren’t stuck together anymore.

“Yes!” she says a little too quickly, a bit too brightly while she looks everywhere but at my eyes. She must have felt my hard-on and is now embarrassed and probably thinking I’m some sort of creeper. She closes the door, and the snick of the lock engaging snaps me out of my daze.

I move toward my seat, noticing the two guys in 1A and B who have been taking in the whole scene.

“Dude,” one of them says to me. “That chick’s fucking smoking hot, man.”

I glare at him but nod in agreement and continue making my way back to my seat. I sit here, looking outside. “Please, God, if you’re listening, please help me here,” I whisper in a low voice to the universe, and as soon as the words are out, I hear laughing. The thing is that I don’t know if it’s just in my head or coming from elsewhere on the plane, but either way, it feels like confirmation that I’m on my own.

I look at my watch and see that we’ve only been in the air for a little more than an hour; another four to go. I see her walk down the aisle to me, smiling.

“I’m starving,” she tells me while sliding into her seat. “What are we going to eat?”

I pull out the menu in the seatback pocket at her question. “Favorite food?” I continue with our twenty-one question game.

“That is a tough one. I adore pizza and could eat it every day. Pasta and chips are also things I can’t say no to.”

“Chips, as in what the Americans call fries, or chips as in the ones sold in a bag that’s mostly filled with air?”

She throws her head back and laughs out loud. “Chips, as in potatoes cut and fried to a golden crisp in hot oil and then sprinkled with salt and slathered in ketchup. You?”

“Guinness stew. Crunchy bread. Actually anything with meat, except haggis. I can’t do that. Ever.” I grimace at the thought of that nastiness, and she laughs at me.

“I promise to never cook you haggis,” she says, her hand falling to my arm.

“For you, I would eat it,” I tell her, and the truth is if she went to the trouble of cooking for me, I would. No one has ever gone to that trouble before.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I don’t even know how to make it. I’d stick to your stew.” Her smile beams, the heat of her hand still on my arm.

“What is the one thing you want to do in Vegas?” The question seems innocent enough.

“Umm.” She looks away and then back again. Her cheeks are slightly pink, and she’s obviously a bit flustered. “Can we pass on that question?”

She’s being dodgy, and my interest is definitely piqued. “You can tell me anything, Lex. Come on, it’s me.”

“Exactly. It’s you.”

I can tell she’s nervous about whatever it is, so I don’t push it. “Okay, pass,” I say just as the flight attendant stops at our row to take our orders. We both order the chicken—it’s the safest choice even though the food is usually pretty decent on this airline.

“So, tell me about your job. What’ve you been up to?” I ask her as the flight attendant returns to top off Lexi’s wine and bring me another scotch along with a bottle of water.

Once she starts talking about her job, her whole demeanor changes. “I’m in charge of the lifestyle section of Work & Home online section.” She pauses to sip her wine. “I love it. I essentially get to shop all day some days, and when I’m not doing that, I’m meeting with clothing and shoe designers, interior designers, beauty experts, and other lifestyle bloggers to talk about products and trends in those areas. There is this hot new housewares designer I spoke with the other day. I love his stuff—he designs all these functional, yet decorative pieces made entirely out of bark and oak. His pieces are elegant and sophisticated and so smart. But my absolute favorite thing to do is a home makeover. There is something so satisfying about going into a house and completely redesigning it into a home beyond the owner’s imagination. Listening to how they use the different spaces of their home, and then creating rooms that are tailored to them, but fresh and functional. The surprise on their faces never fails to make me feel like a fairy godmother!” She chuckles as she takes another sip of her wine.

“If it makes you that happy, you can come over and design my place. I just moved in. It’s all white and I only have the essentials. That’s all I’ve had time for since I got here.” I shrug my shoulders and look at her sheepishly. “White walls, a couch, my television, and my bed. I’ve been making that work for a few months, but I’m definitely ready for something a bit more homey and settled,” I tell her honestly.

Her eyes light up like I just told her it’s Christmas morning and all the gifts under the tree were hers. “Really? You’d give me free rein?”

And I can actually see the wheels spinning in her mind.

We spend the rest of the flight talking about everything and nothing. I find out that she wants to open her own design company as soon as she has more experience.

We are one of the first ones off the plane. Side by side, we make our way down the escalator to the train that will take us to the baggage claim area.

“How many bags did you check?” I look at her, wondering how long it will take before we catch a cab.

“Just one. I was thinking I’d do some shopping and buy some stuff here. What about you?”

I tilt my head to the side, wondering if she actually heard the question. “I’m a guy. I’m here for a week. How many bags do you think I brought?”

She smirks at me. “Well, to be honest, I assume you’re a little bit metro, considering you look like you stepped off the pages of GQ. I imagine you’d have shoes for every outfit and multiple outfit choices per day, so I’m guessing at least four.”

I shake my head, laughing at her smart mouth. The train stops and we walk over to the carousel.

“Do you want me to go get a carriage for your bags, your highness?” she says, bumping my arm with her shoulder. The urge to pull her into me is so strong, my fingers tingle with it.

“Smart arse,” I tell her while I look around at the other travelers assembled and waiting for the bags to start coming out. A beep sounds, alerting us that our luggage will be coming soon.

My bag is one of the first ones out, and I grab it and set it down next to me while we wait for Lexi’s bag to come. The luggage carousel gets emptier with each pass around and the crowd in the waiting area thins.

When we are the last ones left, a big, brown bag is the only one remaining on the carousel.

I look over at Lexi, who has tears in her eyes.

“My bag isn’t here,” she says, looking at the lone bag as it moves away from us.

“It’ll be okay, Lexi. Let’s go tell them, and they can check where your bag ended up.” I take her hand and walk over to the airline counter.

“Excuse me,” I say to the woman behind the counter, who is typing away on her computer. “We seem to be missing her luggage. Is there someone we can talk to?”

Priscilla, according to the name tag pinned to her shirt, smiles at us as she says, “I can help you with that. Can I have your boarding pass, please? Your luggage receipt should be on it.”

Lexi looks through her bag and finds the boarding pass with the receipt attached. “Here it is.” She hands it over to Priscilla, who takes it and goes back to typing on her computer.

“Oh, dear,” Priscilla says, looking up. “I’m sorry. It seems that your bag is headed to Columbia.” She continues typing on the computer. “It seems that it will get here by Monday or Tuesday at the latest. I’m so sorry about this, but we can give you a voucher for two hundred dollars to help cover some incidentals until we get it to you.”

“You’re telling me that my bag is in Columbia, and I won’t have any clothes until Monday, but that’s okay because you’re giving me two hundred dollars? Two hundred dollars?” Her voice takes on a bit of a panicky note as her chest starts heaving. “Oh my God.” She shakes her hands as she bends at the waist and puts them on her knees. Her breathing picks up as she states, somewhat hysterically, “Oh my God. This is a sign—it’s a sign that I should have just cancelled this trip.”

“Lexi, relax, love.” I rub her back while she continues ranting through choppy breaths.

“Ma’am, I’m really sorry, but it’s out of my hands,” Pricilla says calmly.

“Out of your hands,” she parrots Priscilla’s words as her eyes fill and big tears spill over, tumbling down her cheeks. She takes her phone out. “I’m going to get on the next flight home.”

“Lexi.” I try to calm her as I lift her head to look at me. It’s fine. We can go shopping and get you some stuff until your luggage arrives.” I lift her chin and drop my face down closer to hers. “I promise you, everything will be okay.”

She turns to face Priscilla. “I’m waiting outside,” she says and turns to walk away.

“I’m really sorry about that. She has a great shoe collection and the thought of them out there is pushing her over the edge. Plus, she’s a delicate sort, suffers from anxiety and irritable bowels. It’s been a difficult trip for her so far.” I smile at her as we fill out a claim form, and she hands me two hundred dollars in cash.

I find Lexi standing near the taxi line. I make my way over to her and give her the two hundred dollars. “Here you go.”

She takes the money in her hand and huffs out, “Great, thank you. I honestly think I should just find a flight back home.”

I shake my head as I grab her hand, lacing her fingers with mine, and walk us over to the cab line.

“We will check into our hotels, and then meet back up and head out to find you some things. On me.” I look over at her to see her eyes widen with surprise. “I believe I owe you many, many, many missed birthday presents, so now is your chance to cash in on that.”

A wide smile graces her pretty face as she looks at me.

“I can’t let you do that,” she says, shaking her head, but still smiling.

“Why not? I insist. We can do a Pretty Woman re-enactment, Vegas style, and well, without you being a whore.” I stammer a bit as I continue, “Ah, wasn’t that one of your favorite movies? You can go into all the stores and do the whole ‘big mistake, big, huge’ thing. It’ll be great.” I pick up my bag, mimicking Julia Roberts, while we advance in the line. We get to the head of the line and move to the third position, where the agent at the cab stand directs us.

“You remembered?” She follows behind me closely.

I step up to the cab that has stopped at our position and open the door for her, watching her ass while she climbs into the car. I get in after her while the driver puts my bag in the car. “I remember everything,” I tell her. “Even the things I wish I could forget, like the time you called me a horse’s arse and then put wax in my shoes. I’d like to forget that.”

We both laugh at the memory of my socks stuck in my shoes after it took everything Sterling had to tug them off my feet. If I recall, some skin actually came off in the process. Good times.

“You called me bratty!” She huffs while trying to hide her smile.

The cab driver gets in and asks where we are going. We’re both pleasantly surprised when we realize we’re both staying at the Bellagio.

We smile at each other and look out our respective windows, taking in the sights as we head to the hotel.

Traffic is light, which makes it easy to get to the Bellagio. We pull in right as the fountain show is starting up. Lexi leans over to my side to watch, and normally it would be okay, but today…today, of all days, my nerves are shot. I’ve been so close to her all day, touching her, smelling her. It’s too bloody much.

When the car comes to a stop, I jump out and wait by the curb as the driver unloads my bag. I slip him enough cash to cover the fare and a tip before we head into the lobby together. We’re greeted by the sounds of slot machine bells ringing as we zig-zag through the crowd and past a Hermès boutique on the right. There’s a lot to see as we make our way to the front desk to check in. The Bellagio is a gorgeous hotel, and we take it all in, from the gleaming marble floors to the vividly colored glass flower sculptures on the ceiling, on our way through the lobby. I’ve reserved a suite, which has its own designated check-in desk. I walk up to the representative at the desk, and he greets me with a smile as Lexi moves to the representative beside me.

He moves me quickly through the check-in process and issues me two keys before he points to where the elevators are located. I smile and thank him before I walk over to Lexi. I hear her voice rise once again as she questions the woman.

“What do you mean, you don’t have anything under my name? I have a confirmation number!”

“I understand that, ma’am, but it seems your reservation has been cancelled. We did email the cancellation confirmation to you.” She continues, but Lexi cuts her off.

“You most certainly did not email me anything. I didn’t receive anything. There has to be a mistake or something,” she says, her voice cracking, and I know she’s a few seconds from breaking down.

“What’s going on?” I ask, placing my hand on the counter.

“They don’t have my reservation.” She turns to me, her eyes once again filling with tears. “They say I cancelled it, but obviously I didn’t since I’m here!”

“The email we sent the cancellation to is . It was cancelled on January 12.”

“That fucking asshole,” she says angrily under her breath. “That’s my ex-boyfriend. He must have cancelled the reservation. How can I get it reinstated?”

“I’m so sorry, but we’re sold out.” The woman looks sympathetically at Lexi and then at me. “We’re actually sold out until Wednesday. I’ll do a quick search of neighboring properties for you, but unfortunately, I suspect we’ll probably have difficulty finding alternate accommodations anywhere on the strip and the surrounding area before then. There are seventeen trade shows plus a large poker tournament in town right now.” The woman turns to her computer and begins typing and studying the screen intently.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she chants. “This can’t be happening. I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“I’m so sorry, but everything is sold out. It’s one of our busiest times of the year,” the lady explains.

I smile at her as I grab Lexi’s hand. “Thank you so much.” I start walking away, pulling her with me.

“The door is the other way.” She stops walking. “Honestly, Bradley, all the signs are saying I need to get my butt on a plane back to New York and chalk this trip up to an ill-fated misadventure that I should have just cancelled to begin with,” she says as a tear rolls down her cheek. “Now I’m stuck here, homeless and naked.” She shrugs her shoulder, wiping the tear off her face. “The only saving grace of this whole debacle was that I got to see you, and”—she lets out a little laugh—“I think I’m finally over you breaking my eight-year-old heart.” She walks up to me. “I’m no longer wishing erectile dysfunction, incurable halitosis, or hairy moles on your face.” She pats my face with her hand while I smile at her.

“I didn’t really break your heart, did I?”

“Um, yeah, yeah, you did. You called me bratty, and you were an asshole. But you’ll be happy to know that I’ve forgiven you.”

I smile at her. “Thank you, now come on.” I drag her to the elevator as she huffs and puffs behind me.

Once we get to the elevator, I press the up button.

“Bradley, seriously, we have to go back,” she says at the same time that the elevator doors open.

We wait for the elevator to be empty before I drag her in, pressing the number eighteen.

“Did you not hear her? They are booked. No rooms.”

“I know, I heard. I’ll go back to the airport, catch a flight back to New York, and just hide out in my apartment for the week. No one will even know. Well, except the people in Columbia who have my bag and my douchebag ex who cancelled my hotel reservation. I hope he contracts a UTI!” She folds her arms across her chest.

“It’s done, love,” I say as the elevator stops. “Come on.”

She follows me to my room, number eighteen twenty-five. I put the key in the lock and wait for the light to turn green, listening for the click of the lock disengaging.

I open the door and place the room keys on the long, narrow table in the foyer, dropping my bag there as well. I continue into the living room of the suite, where a round dining table and two chairs sit off to the right. A silver tray holding an ice bucket of champagne, two flutes, and a glass bowl of fresh strawberries are on the table.

In the middle of the room with its back to the door is a chocolate brown loveseat with a large, matching ottoman in front of it. The loveseat faces a very large, floor-to-ceiling, dark wood wall unit that runs most of the width of the room and acts as a separation between the living room and the bedroom. A large flat screen television is mounted in the middle of the wall unit.

To the left of the wall unit are windows that run the length of the wall, and to the right of the wall unit is the opening that leads into the bedroom. The backside of the wall unit doubles as the headboard in the bedroom and a king-sized bed that looks as soft as a cloud is centered on it, nestled between two side tables that jut out from either end of the wall unit. The bed faces another bank of windows overlooking the strip and the water show below, which I notice is just starting up again. The whole room is decorated in warm, desert tones of brown, cream, and caramel—which instantly reminds me of Lexi’s comment on the plane.

I watch as Lexi walks fully into the room, her eyes sweeping the space as she lets out a long whistle. She walks past the wall unit to the closed drapes lining the back wall. She pulls them back and gasps.

“Holy shit! Bradley, look at this view!”

I walk over to her at the windows and take in the panoramic view of the strip below us. “It’s pretty amazing. We can even see the desert off in the distance,” I say to her.

I walk over to grab my bag and head into the bedroom. I sit on the edge of the big bed and look toward the view from this angle. But the only thing in my mind right now is how great the strip would look while I pound into Lexi on her knees facing it. I shake my head as I start reciting my new mantra in my mind. My best friend’s little sister. My best friend’s little sister. I think back to how I teased her when she was a kid, and the time I read her diary when she was fifteen and she almost stabbed me. It’s no wonder she hated me. I really was an arsehole.

I look at the bathroom behind the double doors next to the desk on the right. I walk over to it, flipping on the light as I enter. I’m greeted with cream-colored marble floors, surrounding a tub on the right below another window that also faces the strip. Straight ahead is a long, dual sink cream-colored vanity beneath a mirror. Another window with a creamy white leather bench in front of it is between the vanity and the shower. The shower is a pretty sweet set-up. Large and enclosed in glass, I can see multiple heads and jets on the wall and ceiling in the walk-in shower that is more than big enough for two people.

I hear her walk in behind me. “You totally passed baller status,” she says as she saunters over and sits on the bench. “There is only one bed, so I’ll take the couch.”

Sitting there with the sunlight streaming in around her, I can’t help but notice how beautiful she is. Her smile is bright, her eyes are beaming, and I would have done anything to keep it that way.

“That’s okay, I’ll take the couch,” I say, leaning against the vanity. “Consider it payback for all those times I teased you, not to mention breaking your eight-year-old heart when I was a daft sixteen-year-old.” Not giving her a chance to argue, I push off the vanity and say, “Okay, love, let’s go hit some shops and get you some essentials so you can get out of those clothes.”

She cocks her head to the side, eyes sparkling as she sasses, “You’re not trying to get me out of my panties, are you, Bradley?” She rises up from the bench and comes toe-to-toe with me. I tower over her as she tilts her head back to look at me. “I think we should hit up the shops in Caesars Palace. What do you think?”

“Sure,” I agree with her. “I’ve got my credit card right here, dying to be used,” I say, tapping my wallet in my back pocket.

“You aren’t paying for my things, Bradley.” She puts her hands on her hips.

“We’ve already discussed this. I owe you,” I tell her, folding my arms over my chest. There is no way I’m letting her pay for this.

“We didn’t discuss anything. You offered, but I’m not accepting. I can’t—I won’t—let you pay for this, Bradley. That’s just crazy!” she argues.

I take my phone out of my pocket and pull up Sterling’s number.

“What are you doing?” she asks warily.

“Calling your brother and telling him what happened.” I pull up his name, and as I’m just about to hit send, she rips it from my hand.

“You can’t do that. You can’t tell him about this.” She huffs out. “He’ll never let me live this down!”

I smile widely as I say to her, “Perfect! Consider this blackmail, then.”

She groans. “I really don’t want you paying for my things, Bradley. You’ve already saved the day by letting me sleep on the couch.” She looks at me and must see that I’m not going to cave on this.

She lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine, but I want it on the record that I’m doing this under duress,” she says on her way out of the room.

We walk over to the table by the door where we left our things when we came in, and she grabs her purse while I pick up the keys from the table. We ride the elevator to the lobby and exit, heading left toward Caesars Palace. The dry heat of the afternoon sun is almost unbearable.

“We need to get you a swimsuit, also,” I say from behind her as I watch her hips swing and imagine them encased in a tiny bikini bottom. My cock pulses in my pants, and I have to adjust the fucker because it feels like he’s about to suffocate. My best friend’s little sister. My best friend’s little sister.

We spend close to five hours shopping. It was hell, mainly because I have no idea what she bought at Agent Provocateur, but my mind is running wild, imagining what’s in that bag. She put most of the items she had tried on back, settling on just a few things, but when she went to the bathroom, I told the sales clerk helping her to retrieve the items she liked but put back. I didn’t look to see what they were, but my credit card was charged eight hundred dollars. I wasn’t really paying too much attention as I waited outside and responded to emails, but I saw enough lace, see-through bras, and sexy little scraps of silk to get my imagination fired up. If she wasn’t looking over her shoulder every two seconds to make sure I was still there, I think I would have gone to the bathroom to take care of myself. My best friend’s little sister. My best friend’s little sister.

Finally, we head back to the hotel, four bags and a hefty charge on my card later. She doesn’t know how hefty the charge is, but I’m sure she’ll figure it out soon. For now, though, she’s smiling and happy. “You know what we should do tonight?” She turns to face me while walking backward in front of me. “Let’s go dancing!”

“Okay.” If it makes her happy, right now I’ll do it.

“Yeah, I can wear those short shorts I bought with that lace top! Oh, and my new, strappy Louboutins.”

The fucking Louboutins that she had to get but put back when she saw the price. I couldn’t hide that particular purchase from her, so we fought until I pulled the Sterling card again to get her to cave in to me.

I almost groan aloud thinking about how her legs will look in those sexy as fuck shoes and those short fucking shorts. My best friend’s little sister. My best friend’s little sister.

“That sounds so cute, love.” The sarcasm oozes out of me as I imagine all the douchebags salivating over her tonight. I can’t help but wonder how many guys will be pulling a wank over her. Fuck. I’ll be one of those douchebags, too. My fucking best friend’s little fucking sister.

She links her arm through mine as she tell me, “Just you wait and see, Bradley. It’ll be fun! You won’t be sorry. Promise.”

I nod my head, different scenarios running through my mind, and I can’t help myself from thinking famous last words.

Two hours later and she is still in the bathroom doing whatever it is women do in there. Just thinking about her in that shower, soapy water running down her body... Fuck. I had no choice but to take care of myself during the shower I took earlier, and I’m still on edge. I’d do it again, but I’m now dressed in black slacks and a fitted, black button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up.

I’m looking out the window at the strip, all lit up and twinkling. The Eiffel Tower across the street looks almost real. I bring the glass of scotch I’m holding to my lips to take a sip. I hear the door unlock and turn around as she walks out of the bathroom.

She’s wearing the black shorts she bought earlier. They’re tailored and cuffed at the bottoms like trousers, but they fall very low on her hips and very high up on her toned thighs. It’s her top, though, that gets me harder than stone. Black lace all over, it’s fitted and molds to her every curve. The sleeves are long and sheer, and the neck dips down into a deep V at her cleavage and it stops an inch or two under her breasts in a tight, scalloped edge that lies against her flat, exposed abs. A diamond dangles at her belly button, and it’s all I can do to hold back a groan. I can see the solid black bra cupping her round breasts perfectly underneath. Her blond hair falls around her shoulder in loose waves, and I don’t know what she’s done to her eyelashes, but they are so thick and dark, they make her eyes look mysterious. The long line of her lean legs looks like satin leading into the black stilettos with criss-crossing straps over the tops of her feet, and I’m very glad I pushed the issue and made her accept them.

Fuck me, I thought she was a walking wet dream before, but this is something altogether different. I’m going to be fighting tonight for sure. The question is, will it be some other guy or myself?

“Sorry it took so long. I took a bath instead,” she says while putting some essentials from her purse into a smaller bag that has a hook around her wrist.

My eyes rake over her, taking in every single part I can see and imagining the parts that I can’t. “Look at you, all grown up,” I say, rather hoarsely, I might add, as I manage—just barely—not to whimper.

“Yep. No more stuffed bra for me. I still remember when you took all my padding and made it float in the pool. My mother thought it was floating candles. I’m going to be honest, Bradley, that night I went to bed and wished a case of food poisoning with bouts of explosive diarrhea on you.”

I bark out a startled laugh as she tells me this in a mock serious voice, doing nothing to hide the smile at the memory.

“Now, I’m starving. Where do you want to go for dinner?”

I try to reel in my wayward thoughts while taking the final sip of my scotch.

“First off, that was not my idea. Okay, maybe it was mine, but it was a test. A science test—to see if they would float or sink. And by the way, it was Sterling who actually took them out of your bras,” I tell her with a smirk on my face. “I was thinking of staying in the hotel. I got us a table at Hyde so you can ‘dance your arse off.’ I also booked us a table at Prime Steakhouse. Is that okay?” I wondered what I could do if it wasn’t.

She saunters on those four-inch heels over to me. “That’s perfect. I was just thinking I could go for a nice steak. You know how I love me some meat.” She winks at me and adds, “A couple bottles of red wine sound pretty good right about now, too.” She takes the glass from me and puts it down on the table as we walk past it to the door. In the hall, her hand reaches out for mine as we walk to the elevator, and I don’t pull away, even when I feel her touch pulse all the way through me.

We walk through the casino still holding hands, and I tighten my grip when I notice how many head turns and stares she’s getting.

A man walks past her and says, “You’re looking fine tonight, babe.” Then he high-fives her!

She just giggles, and even though I’m pissed at that, my cock jumps at the sound.

I inhale deeply as I think about what this night is going to be like. We arrive at Prime, and I guide us straight to the hostess’s stand. “Two for Fitch.”

The woman there looks at the pad in front of her, scratches out our name, and says, “This way, sir.” She grabs two menus and a wine list as she leads us through the restaurant to the terrace. There are about twenty or so tables out here, all of them overlooking the fountains. She seats us right in front, along the cast iron fence. I pull out the chair for Lexi, and she smiles at me over her shoulder. “Look at you, being chivalrous.”

I move around the table to my chair opposite of her, grabbing the napkin from the plate in front of me and laying it on my lap. “Are you trying to kill me tonight?” I ask her as I open the wine list and attempt to peruse it, but I’m so flustered right now, the words look all jumbled up.

“What are you talking about now?” she asks while opening her menu.

“You’re practically naked,” I tell her, unable to make eye contact with her as I say it.

She sighs and puts down her menu. “I’m not almost naked, Bradley. All of my lady bits are fully covered,” she says in a voice a parent would use when their child is testing their patience. “There will be no nip slips happening here tonight.” She motions to her chest.

I’m about to reply when the sommelier approaches us to discuss the wine. I’m not even going to lie and pretend that I’m listening because I’m not. I’m focused on her tits now as I try to catch a glimpse of her nipple. It’s a fruitless effort because no matter how she moves, I see nothing.

“So, what did you want?” Her voice interrupts my inspection.

“What?” I look up at the sommelier, who is waiting for my answer. “Do you have a preference, Lexi? Cab? Merlot? Pinot?”

She replies that she loves Pinot Noir.

I turn back to the sommelier and tell him, “Please just bring us your best Pinot Noir, something from Oregon or California. We are both having steak.”

He nods at me just as the fountain show starts up again. We spend the rest of the meal watching the show and finishing off two bottles of wine. I don’t even see the total when the bill comes. I just sign my name.

She gets up from her chair and teeters to the right. I jump up to steady her so she doesn’t fall over, and her hands find their way around my neck. “My savior,” she says. Her fingers creep into my hair to play as she leans into me and inhales. I think she just smelled me. “You smell nice, Bradley.”

Yes, yes, she smelled me.

My arm wraps around her waist as I’m about to tell her that she smells good enough to eat when the fucking fountains go off again.

She starts to sway as she breaks out into a song that was way before her time. “I want to dance with somebody, with somebody who…” She stops suddenly, seeming to catch herself, and continues, “Let loose with me, Bradley. Will you dance with me?”

One hand comes out of my hair and trails across my cheek to my jaw before she places it on my chest. My cock is now fully erect and is no longer acknowledging my attempts to talk him down. He’s done, he’s gone rogue, and the rest of me is barely hanging on.

“I’ll dance with you, love.” My hands grip her hips, pulling her closer to me, close enough that she can feel the effect she has on me.

“Then take me.” I tilt my head back and groan at the thought of taking her. Hard. Fast. Deep. This is my punishment right here. God is fucking with me.

She takes my hand in hers and turns away as she pulls me behind her, weaving us through the crowd of people until I see the sign that reads HYDE.

I look at the long line of people waiting to get in and smile at them in apology for cutting ahead.

“We need a table, please,” Lexi says to the bouncer with a smile. “Bradley here would like a table, outside, please, near the fountains.” She giggles as she leans into the big man at the door and whisper-yells conspiratorially, “He gets so excited watching them shoot out.” She bursts out laughing, and the big guy just grins at her.

I pull her back against me. A bit of faux exasperation tinges my tone as I tell him, “We have a reservation for Fitch.”

He aims a smirk at me as he goes to check his list and then speaks into his headset. My arm is wrapped around her waist, my hand resting on her bare stomach. I was wrong, it’s not just soft, it’s silky smooth, and my thumb moves involuntarily to stroke it.

The bouncer waves us in, and we follow a woman holding a light up to illuminate our way through the dark club. She leads us to a white U-shaped sofa with a low, black table in the middle that has a candle flickering softly in the middle. “My name is Sam, and I’ll be your server this evening. What can I get you folks?” she asks while Lexi settles herself on the couch.

“It’s so pretty here, with the lights of the strip,” she says, turning to look. “I’ll have a Grey Goose and cranberry, please.”

Sam looks at me. “What about you, sir?”

“Scotch on the rocks. Macallan if you have it, Bowmore or Johnnie Walker Blue if you don’t.” I slide into the other side of the couch and fold my hands in my lap to keep from grabbing Lexi and dragging her over to me. My best friend’s little sister.

“Come sit with me.” She pats the seat next to her with her hand.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I avert my eyes, looking anywhere but at her, to avoid making eye contact with her.

“I promise I won’t bite, Bradley.” She puts her hands on her sides and leans forward. “Unless you want me to, then I will.” She winks at me. This woman is going to drive me insane.

I sit back in the couch, stretching one arm along the back of it while the one closest to her rests on my knee.

The song “Shots” comes on, and she moves to get on her feet right away, or at least she tries. Her foot twists, causing her to fall backward onto the couch. On the way down, she throws a hand out behind her to break her fall, and it lands right on my fully erect cock. Without removing her hand, her eyes come to mine as she mutters, “Well, that answers that question.”

Picking her hand up before her fingers can get any more inquisitive, I place it on the couch beside her and ask, “What question?”

She leans in, attempting to whisper, but it comes out as more of a yell. “Your cock, Bradley. You’re a big guy. I mean, look at those boats you call feet. Your hands are the size of dinner plates, and don’t even get me started on your fingers, my God.” She shrugs and looks around. “A girl can’t help but wonder,” she mutters almost apologetically.

Wait, what? She’s been wondering about the size of my cock? I sit here stunned and gaping at her as I groan out, “Fuck me.”

She gets up on her feet, steadier this time, holding out her hand to me. “Come on, you said you’d dance with me.” Her body is already starting to sway with the music.

I look around and see that she has already attracted a lot of attention. I see two scumbags devouring her with their eyes, and I know if I don’t go out there with her, they’ll be all over her. Watching them watch her, I’m sliding off the couch before I snap. I pull her close to me as her arms wind their way around my neck. “So you do dance?” she says, her body moving to the beat against mine.

“No, not usually, but you’re drawing a lot of attention.” I motion around us with my head as I watch her look around.

“Meh. None of them are as handsome as you, Bradley,” she says with a wink while she spins in my arms and continues to sway to the music until Drake’s “One Dance” comes on.

With her ass now pressing against my still hard cock, she starts to grind into me. My hands fall to her hips and tighten their hold on them. The limits of my restraint have been pushed to their maximum now.

I whisper a warning in her ear, “You are playing with fire, love.”

She rests her head on my shoulder and looks up at me. “I’m already burning, Bradley.” She sinks her top teeth into her plump lower lip.

“Untouchable, Lexi, that is what you’re supposed to be,” I tell her while I move with her.

She turns in my arms, my hands gliding along her body to settle on her ass as hers roam up my chest, around my neck, and one continues on into the hair at the back of my head. “Says who, Bradley? We’re adults here. What happens is no one’s business but ours.”

She presses her tits into my chest as my self-control snaps. My hands grip her ass and pull her closer as my hips thrust into her so she can feel exactly what she’s done to me.

“I’m not a boy you can toy with, Lexi. You’ve started something here. The question is are you prepared to finish it? Last warning, love.”

I swear I hear a soft whimper as I look into her eyes and watch as they turn hooded. A sultry smile graces her face, and while she hasn’t said the words, her expression says it all.

“Fuck.” I groan as a gasp comes out of her mouth right before my lips crash into hers. I’ve been hoping for this moment all night, and I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life. The moment when everything changes.