I slide my arm in his. “I’ll watch you.”
“Well then, give daddy a kiss for good luck.” He smiles, leaning his cheek toward me.
I stretch up on tiptoe, planting a smooch on him. “Good luck,” I move my mouth to his ear and whisper, “Daddy.”
He gives a comedic little shiver. “I felt that one down in my toes.”
I love saying that word, I love calling him by that name. Daddy.
We step up to the table and he joins the game. My eyes dart all over the place, trying to keep up with what’s going on. A few minutes later, Rawley has the dice in his hands. “I really need that lucky kiss right about now.”
I’ve done my best to keep up, but I’m not sure what’s going on in the game, what’s at stake for this roll. “Why?”
He cups the dice in his hands, giving them a shake. “Because if I roll an eight, everyone wins.”
I kiss his cheek. “Then roll an eight, daddy.” I don’t even care who hears me.
His hand swings out, shooting the dice across the table. I watch as they tumble across the felt, finally stopping at their destiny.
Two fours.
A cheer erupts from the crowd.
“That’s what I’m talking about, babygirl!” Rawley picks me up, spinning me around, my feet dangling in the air. He kisses my lips just before he sets me down.
There’re more than a few envious glances from the women around me as the flush creeps in my cheeks. Lucky girl. So far, this is going down as the best date of my life.
Suddenly a few days with him doesn't seem like quite enough.
He wraps his arms around my shoulder. “You hungry?”
Breakfast seems like ages ago, my belly on the verge of growling. “Yes.”
He takes me to the rooftop restaurant and has us seated outside, just as the sun is setting over the city. We dine on steak and shrimp, sipping champagne as we watch the oranges and reds in the sky turn to an inky blue, the lights twinkling in the night.
The conversation is light, easy. “You have any hobbies?”
I’m shy to admit the truth. “I have none other than studying. Oh, and singing at the top of my lungs in the shower or my car.”
He gives a laugh. “I’d like to hear that one day. I’ll bet it's adorable.”
I take another sip of champagne. “And you? Any hobbies?”
“You know, the usual. Being really bad at golf, playing poker with my buddies.” He waves a hand through the air, as if dismissing the conversation, but a beat later he adds, “And, I like to draw. You know, landscapes, that kind of thing, but the hobby kind of transferred to a work thing and now I draw shoes.”
“I’d like to see your art one day.”
“Art? I wouldn’t call it that. But hang on, I’ll show you one.” He takes his phone from his pocket, pulling up a file. “I’ve never shown anyone this before, but what the hell? It’s a sketch I did up here a couple weeks ago.”
I lean forward, gazing at his screen. It’s a pencil shaded drawing of the Vegas skyline, from this very spot we sit now. It’s...beautiful, a perfect likeness of the view. “That’s really good, Rawley. You’re talented.”
“Nah.” He gives his head a shake, sliding his phone in his pocket. “But thanks all the same.”
We finish our champagne, gazing at the stars.
The perfect end to the perfect day.
But his hand slips up my thigh beneath the table, reminding me this night is nowhere near over.
We go up to our suite. It’s gorgeous, decorated in creamy white and soft gold. Our things have been neatly packed and delivered. They sit by the door in boxes and bags. I glide through the room, taking it in. I’m drawn to the corner, where two windows the span of the wall meet.
My breath catches in my throat as I stand against the glass, like I’m floating over the city. The strip goes on as far as the eye can see as I hover high above it. Rawley comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His breath tickles my neck. “It’s stunning, isn’t it?”
I nod.
It’s like a dream, a fantasy. This whole—thing—is, really. Too good to be true and too perfect to last. A fun fling to get me through med school.
A warm memory for the lonely nights of solo studying I have ahead of me.
He kisses my neck, making me forget the future. His hand moves up my belly, cupping my breast, making me forget my name. His other hand slides down, pressing between my thighs, making me forget to breathe.
My hands go to the glass, pressing against it for stability as his fingers untie my dress. It falls open and now his fingers are sliding over the seam of my pussy, over the slippery silk of my stockings and panties. His hand winds round my hair, tugging my head back just enough to make me whimper. His teeth nip at the delicate flesh at the base of my neck.