“All right, man. I’ll drop it at the club. It’s right next door to the Allegro, though next door is a nebulous term in Vegas. Then I’ll go entertain your lady.”
“If I didn’t trust you with my life, I’d warn you not to try anything funny, but A, I trust you with my life and B, I’d beat you up, just like I did when we were kids.”
“Hey! You never beat me up. I always beat you.”
Clay laughed deeply. “That, my friend, is revisionist history right there.”
“You remember it your way. I remember it my way. I’m going to hit the road. I’ll text you when I’m there in about twenty minutes. The valets know me so parking is easy.”
Know me. Clay latched onto those words. “You know the firm that runs security for the hotel?”
“That I do. My friend Mindy runs it.”
“A woman?”
“You think a woman can’t handle security? She’s former Special Forces. She’d badass.”
“I haven’t got a single sexist bone in my body. I was just surprised.”
“Anyway, you need me to check on something?”
“Yeah. Make sure Julia’s not being followed.”
“Ten-four.”
Then he called Julia, letting her know he was driving instead of flying.
“Well, that sucks, because I miss you something fierce.”
“I miss you too. But I’ll be there soon. And listen, Brent’s coming by. Go play some poker with him, okay? I called him to have him look out for you. And before you go all stubborn and independent on me, I did it because you were worried, and when you’re worried I’m worried, and even though I’m sure nothing is amiss I’m not taking any chances. Brent will make sure you feel safe.”
He tensed, waiting for her to reprimand him. Instead, she made the sweetest sound. “Awww. That is so adorable. And I will happily let your brother be my security detail.”
“It is? Adorable?”
“It is. And it makes me think about how far we’ve come. It makes me think about what almost split us up, and now here you are, laying it all out for me and telling me upfront.”
His heart beat faster and he couldn’t contain the smile. He dropped his foot harder on the gas, needing desperately to see his gorgeous Julia and wrap her in his arms. “And look at you. Taking my help so easily too. So different than before when you were kicking and screaming.”
“We’re a good team.”
“Always, gorgeous. Always,” he said, and he was proud of them, of how far they’d come, and how much they’d learned to trust each other. He truly felt the two of them could conquer the world.
Now, if only he could get to Vegas. He ended the call and punched a few buttons to install an app that gave alerts as to cops and speeding traps. There were none showing, so he let the speedometer crank higher, putting more distance between himself and Los Angeles.
A second later, an incoming text message from Julia flashed across his screen. A multimedia file. Oh f**k. His dick twitched just imagining what she’d sent. He glanced in the rearview mirror, then the side mirror, then made sure all was clear on the stretch of highway ahead of him. He steeled himself as he swiped his finger across the screen and nearly swerved off the side of the road when a picture of her br**sts greeted him. So lush, so round, so designed for him to bite down and suck.
What do you want to do with these tonight?
He took a deep fueling breath, then spoke into the voice-recognition software, the phone transcribing his reply. “Slide my rock-hard c**k between them and watch you suck the head of my dick as I f**k your br**sts. That’s what I want to do with them tonight. This is your fair warning.”
CHAPTER NINE
Friday, 5:58 p.m., Las Vegas
He wasn’t quite the spitting image of his brother, but he was damn close. Waiting by the replica of Monet’s Japanese Bridge, she picked Brent out of the sea of people in the lobby immediately. He was tall like Clay, and stood head and shoulders above most. With thick, dark hair, piercing brown eyes, and a strong, square jawline, he’d been blessed with the same beauty stick that had tapped his brother. They must have been lady-killers in high school. She was even more eager now to meet Clay’s parents in the flesh, and say hello to the two people who had created such a set of fine male specimens.
There were plenty of differences though. Brent was scruffier, edgier, and not the least bit the suit. With well-worn jeans, motorcycle boots, and a faded navy T-shirt, he and Clay would never raid each other’s closets. Brent had a whole mess of stubble, and was rocking the I-don’t-need-to-shave look.
“You must be the bad boy of comedy,” Julia said, extending a hand when he reached her.
He shrugged playfully, his lips quirking up. “So bad he should be banned,” Brent said, clasping her hand in his. “That’s the slogan at my club. Now, c’mon. Give me a hug. You’re my brother’s woman. We’re beyond handshakes even if we just met.”
She smiled broadly, liking him immediately. He pulled her in close enough for her to notice his woodsy scent; maybe it was cologne, maybe it was soap. An appealing scent that was sure to send some woman to her knees. As for this woman, she only got on her knees for one man, and she was hoping that was where she’d be soon when Clay arrived. Until then, she’d happily take the company of the younger brother.
When they pulled apart, Brent tipped his forehead to the casino. “What’s your poison? Craps? Roulette? Blackjack? Or you want to play the one-armed bandits? This hotel has all the new ones, so you’ve got options,” Brent said, and began counting off on his fingers. “We’ve got a Sex and the City machine, and you need to line up three cosmos to win, or else a trio of Samantha’s massagers will do. Or you can go for Aladdin’s Quest and maybe you’ll get to rub that magic lamp and watch the coins pour out. You could also sidle up to the most mind-boggling one of all—the Dolly Parton slot machine.”
Julia arched an eyebrow. “Should I even ask what you need to line up to win?”
Brent held both his hands in front of his chest. “Melons,” he said, punctuating the word crisply.
“Somehow, I think you might be full of it.”
“Ah, see, I like you already, Julia,” Brent said, draping an arm over her shoulder and guiding her through the echoing marble-floored lobby, and into the cha-ching-clanging casino. Coins rained down for a lucky patron nearby and “9 to 5” began playing loudly. Julia laughed, pointing to the Dolly Parton machine at the end of the aisle, lit up with a trio of photos of the country music legend. “No melons,” she said. “And by the way, I’ll take blackjack for 500, Alex.”