I need to have her now.
I need to have her always.
Quinn pulls back with a needy sigh. “Tease.”
“You started it.”
“How?”
My fingers skim the hem of her dress.
Her lips curl into a coy smile. She shrugs and turns back to the path. “You didn’t tell me where we’re going.”
“Thought you wanted to take in the skyline.”
She laughs. “You can’t see it inside.”
“It’s still a hundred and four outside.”
Quinn groans in agony. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re evil.”
I slide my arm around her waist.
She looks up at me with a wide smile.
Fuck, this is addicting.
I want to stay here with her forever.
I want this to be forever.
I want fucking everything.
“Evil and incredibly vague,” she says.
“We’re doing something you’ll like.”
“That’s all I get?”
“Yeah.”
We stop at the escalator. It heads down to the casino floor. It’s a wall of sensation. Bright lights, vivid colors, conversation, clinking glasses, the ding of slot machines.
Quinn’s eyes go wide. “God, it’s so…”
“Much.”
She nods. “How much time do we have before our—what are we doing?”
“Nice try.”
She shrugs who me?
“About an hour.”
“Well.” She motions to the casino floor. “Shall we?”
I offer my hand.
She giggles as she takes it.
I lead her onto the escalator. We hug the right side to leave room for people to pass, but no one does.
For a place modeled after New York, the attitude is strangely laid back.
I stay close to Quinn, explaining the games of chance as we survey the floor.
She shakes her head at slots. Dismisses craps. Stops at the roulette table.
Her fingers skim the wood. “Do people really do it?” Her gaze shifts to the table. To the dozen bets scattered over felt.
“They’re not here for the free cigarettes.”
“Maybe it’s the free booze.”
Right on cue, a cocktail waitress stops by. “What can I get for you?”
She shoots me a should we?
I nod hell yes. “Jack and coke.”
“Gin and tonic.” Quinn leans in close enough to whisper. “Are we really gambling?”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s just so…”
“Why’d you want to come to Vegas?”
“It always seemed so…”
“Like the place where you wanted to lose your virginity?”
Her cheeks flush. “Fun.”
“That won’t be?”
Her blush deepens.
“You two in for this round?” the dealer asks.
“Yeah. Can I cash this in?” I pull out my wallet. Hand him five twenties.
He hands back ten chips.
I give half to Quinn.
She runs her fingers over the edge of the stack. “How do I know what to bet?”
“What’s your heart say?”
Her blush deepens. “I think I’m more in touch with my libido at the moment.”
“There’s no sixty-nine on the board.”
“Oh my God.”
The dealer shoots us a look. “Last call.”
Quinn bites her lip.
“You can wait, angel.”
“But it’s happening now.”
He waves his hand over the table that’s it then spins the wheel.
The ball bounces along the slotted edges.
Quinn leans over the table. “I have to decide what I want before the next round.”
“There’s no rush.”
“There is.” Her fingers curl into the table. “There isn’t much time left.”
“What’s your heart say?”
“I don’t know.” She presses her lips together. “I’m trying to listen, but I’m not sure.”
Story of my fucking life.
“Thirty-two,” the dealer calls. He settles bets with quiet professionalism.
“I want to be in this round.” Quinn squeezes the chips in her palm.
“Go with your gut,” I say.
She looks at me like I’m crazy.
“First instinct, red or black,” I say.
“Red,” she replies.
“There you go.”
She shoots me that same look.
“Try it.”
“But…”
“It’s ten bucks. Try it.”
She turns back to the table. Leans over enough to place a single chip on red.
The dealer spins the wheel.
Quinn turns to me. “What if it’s not red?”
“Then it’s not.”
She stares up at me like I’m not understanding.
Maybe I’m not.
But, at this point, it’s really all I can say.
Red wins.
Quinn shrieks and jumps into my arms.
We hang at the roulette table, placing ten-dollar bet after ten-dollar bet, until we bust.
Seeing her excitement fills me in this way nothing else does.
It takes all my attention.
I barely make our show time.
Quinn’s eyes go wide as soon as she sees the sign.
It’s one of those contortionist shows.
One about sex and love.
It’s a trip.
Topless performers swim around a martini glass with symmetrical movements, meeting to kiss, touch, dry hump.
A lean guy glides down a silk hanging from the ceiling.
A woman in a thong contorts herself into a tiny box.
We laugh.
Drink.
Kiss.
When the show ends, Quinn brings her lips to my ear. “You made a promise.”
“What’s that?” I play dumb.
“You know what it is, Wes.” Her fingers brush my thighs, over my jeans. “Tonight, you’re taking my virginity.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Quinn
Click, click.
The door beeps as Wes pulls the key from the lock. He turns the handle, pushes the door open, motions after me.
It’s the same hotel room from this afternoon.
But it’s a completely different universe.
This is really happening.
We’re really…
Fuck.
His fingers brush my lower back. Then it’s the soft pressure of his palm.
He leads me into the suite. Past the couch, the wet bar, the bed. All the way to the window.