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Geoff climbed in, shoving Pike all the way to the other side of the car. “But we won’t be in Vegas then. Tonight’s the night.”
“I—”
“Shut the fuck up, Ryland,” Braxton said with a smile. “We’re taking you hostage. There is no choice here.”
“Don’t I even get a safe word?”
“Nope, we don’t want to be safe, sane, or
consensual with you tonight,” Geoff answered.
Pike let his head fall back and rubbed a hand over his face as the limo took off. Normally he wouldn’t let them strong-arm him into anything. But it would be a dick move to shut them down when they were trying to do something nice for him.
Pike blew out a breath. “As long as it’s not that strip club we went to last time we were here. That was freaking bizarre.”
Geoff snickered. “What? Not a fan of painted and bedazzled pussy?”
“Those sparkly things must hurt like hell when they pull them off,” Braxton said, flipping the switch for the privacy window. “And your dick probably comes out tie-dyed when you fuck them.”
Pike snorted. “I wouldn’t go near that shit.”
“Right. Like you’d go near anyone.” Geoff fished a few beers out of the chiller. “You’re like a fucking monk lately.”
“That’s changing tonight,” Braxton assured him. “Don’t want your dick shriveling from lack of use. We’re getting you laid, son.”
Pike accepted a beer from Geoff. “Worry about your own dick, Brax. Mine’s not your concern.”
Braxton sent him a shit-eating grin. “Oh, I make sure someone worries about mine every night, preferably multiple times.”
Pike sniffed and sipped his beer. This was going to be a long night. He watched the scenery go by through the tinted windows, the colorful, dancing lights of Vegas a counterpoint to his dark mood. When they crawled past his hotel, he had to fight the urge to tell the driver to stop and let him out. But he forced himself to keep his mouth shut. He would do this for the guys. It wouldn’t hurt him to sit in a club or bar and drink while the guys did their thing.
But soon the colors became muted outside the windows and the limo picked up speed, hitting open road after creeping its way down the strip. Pike frowned at the changing scenery. “Where the hell are we going? Finding a place to kill me and dump the body?”
Braxton stretched his arm over the back of the seat. “Need to go outside of city limits for what we’re after.”
Pike eyed him, annoyance setting in. “I swear to God if you fuckers are taking me to some brothel, I’m going to kick your goddamned asses.”
The corner of Geoffrey’s mouth lifted. “Come on, man. You know we’ve got more class than that.”
“Says the man who picked out the painted-pussy palace.”
“Just relax, Ryland.” Brax gripped Pike’s shoulder and gave him a little shake. “We’ve got something real nice set up for the birthday boy. Trust us.”
The words were ominous in the dark of the limo. He trusted these guys with his life. He did not, however, trust them to have free reign over him in Vegas. “Ah, hell, I’m fucked.”
Brax flashed teeth. “That’s the spirit.”
Finally, the limo pulled into a long driveway. Pike leaned forward to peer out the window. A sprawling house that seemed to grow right out of the desert mountain landscape glittered in the distance, the porch lights and windows glowing bright.
“What the hell is this?”
“Your birthday present.”
He looked between the two of them, confused as shit. “You didn’t buy me a damn house.”
Braxton snorted. “No, we’re not that good of friends. But we got you what you need. A few days away from the chaos, all the privacy you could want, and someone to keep you company.”
He stiffened at that. “I don’t need fucking company.”
