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It shouldn’t have bothered me that he didn’t give me so much as a second glance, but it did. I peered in the mirror and wondered if perhaps whatever fascinated him about me was gone. Maybe he’d gotten his fill before the week was even over. Maybe my outburst yesterday morning precipitated the inevitable. No one likes playing with a broken toy. Same goes for fantasies.
He wanted me to look at him while we fucked. I couldn’t.
Or could it have been our conversation this morning about the birth control? Did I offend him somehow?
While he didn’t mention it the rest of the day, I couldn’t help but notice a shift in him. The way he observed me, like he was searching for the crack in my exterior. I was under a microscope and it made me aware of every single flaw he’d expose. Apparently, there were a lot.
“I can stay in if you’d like,” I offered when he came out of the bedroom dressed in a black suit and silver tie that matched my dress, looking like the insanely sexy business tycoon he is.
For the first time since he arrived home he seemed to actually see me. He raked me from toes to head, his eyes zeroing in on my glossy red lips. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind.”
“I just thought?—”
“We had a deal, Miss Burrows. Are you going back on that?” He was genuinely annoyed by my suggestion.
“N-no.”
“Good. Let’s go. I have a guest arriving at the club shortly.” Grabbing me firmly by the hand, he escorted me to the elevator.
“Who’s coming to see you?” I asked him as we descended.
“An interested buyer. I’m selling one of the buildings at the end of the strip.”
I was shocked to see the heightened level of security when the elevator doors opened. If there had been three or four guards the other nights, now there are at least ten. Inside the club is no different, with several men dressed in black suits, that while elegant, are very obviously uniform. Black tie, black shirt, black shoes, and a black mic hanging from their ears.
“Is the man you’re expecting dangerous?” I ask as he allows me to slide into the booth before him.
He peers at me with a curious mix of intensity and distance, as if he’s both here and somewhere far away. Then he blinks and his expression relaxes a bit. “You mean who I’m meeting here.”
I frown. Who else would I mean? “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great.” He tugs his phone from his pocket and checks his messages. “Fucking great.”
We remain in a somewhat uneasy silence as we watch the acts taking place on the three stages. It’s definitely not like it was before, not in the least. The sensual vibe that permeates this place is hitting an invisible wall that surrounds us. A wall made of tension.
Gavin is completely absent, and I’m not so sure it’s only what happened between us that’s changed him. There’s something more.
When I can’t stand the silence anymore, I finally say what I rehearsed all day, “I’d like to apologize for what happened yesterday morning. It’s just, I haven’t had much time for a sex life since Lola was born. I try not to get intimate and what you wanted from me seemed very intimate.”
His brows pinch tightly together, but just as he’s about to reply, his gaze shifts to something beyond me. Everything about his demeanor changes, going from terse to at ease in the blink of an eye. “Ah, there he is now.”
Gavin takes my hand and helps me out of the booth, then he tugs me toward a group of men that have just entered the club.
The first thing I notice are the gaudy suits made from shinny fabrics in deep jewel tones—purple, teal, and rust. Thick gold chains drape from their necks and almost every one of them is sporting diamond earrings.
The second thing I notice is that they’re all guards, there for the single man standing between them.
But that’s not what has me gasping as we near. I’m accustomed to loudly dressed people that are heavily guarded. This is Las Vegas after all.
No, what has my lungs seizing up as if I’ve somehow breathed in lead, is the short man in the middle. The heavily guarded one. The one with the three gold teeth.
The one whose face and stink I’ll have forever engraved in my mind.
My feet dig into the carpet and Gavin turns to me, his brow arched in question.
I open my mouth to speak, maybe to scream, but nothing comes out because my heart is lodged in my throat.
Gavin tilts his head and narrows his gaze, intensifying it as he scrutinizes me. “What is it, Andie?”
