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Beautiful Bombshell

Page 12

   


“It was fine,” I said.
“Quick,” Will noted.
I grinned. Fuck yes, it was. I almost wished one of them did know about Chloe and her little stunt so I could at least get a high-five.
“There’s some f**king amazing women here,” Henry muttered. “I could watch this for the rest of the night.”
Will stretched, checking his watch. “I’m starving, though. Don’t we have dinner reservations? It’s almost ten.”
“Where’s the Brit?” I asked, doing another survey of the giant room. It would be impossible to find him in here without checking each corner and bar.
“Don’t know,” Will said, shrugging and draining his scotch. “Disappeared right after you did.”
Awareness tickled at the edge of my thoughts before understanding went off like a bomb: Sara was here, too. Chloe didn’t answer when I asked whether she’d come here alone, but I couldn’t imagine she came here solo just for this. Unless she planned to return to her hotel room to lounge in a bubble bath all night, she most definitely had other plans. If I’d been able to get a room alone with Chloe, no doubt Max was getting some time with his girlfriend somewhere as well.
After another drink and at least a handful of songs, Max returned to the table, approaching from behind us. I hadn’t even seen him coming.
“Lads!” he proclaimed, clapping me on the back. “How are we enjoying all of the naked tits?”
We all murmured some variation of “Great,” and with a laugh that communicated how relaxed he was, Max lowered himself into the chair beside me.
“How was the dance, Ben?” he asked, eyes twinkling. “Not so bad after all, was it?”
I shrugged and took in his drunken smile. He looked about as relaxed as I was wound up. “You just got laid, didn’t you, you f**king ass**le?”
His eyes went wide and he leaned closer. “Didn’t you?”
“Fuck no,” I whispered, shaking my head, and Max burst out laughing. “She took care of herself, and then left.”
He let out a low whistle and then sighed. “Guess you’ll just have to catch up with her back home and give her some payback.”
Was he serious? He expected me to let her go for the rest of the night—maybe even the rest of the long weekend—after doing something like that?
“Where are they headed?” I asked under my breath.
Max shrugged, scooping some caviar onto a blini from my plate. “Don’t know, actually. Think they leave in the morning, though.”
“Where are they staying?”
“Dunno. Sara took care of all of it.” He seemed so much less concerned with all of this than I was . . . but of course he was. He clearly just got f**ked in some room in the back while I only got to watch Chloe masturbate with my hand.
I glanced at the far wall just as Chloe and Sara stepped out from the black hallway, laughing together, arms linked. Max followed my attention and exhaled a deep breath. “Bloody hell they’re lovely.”
“Wonder where they’re headed,” I murmured.
Max looked over at me, already shaking his head as if he’d read my mind. “We’ve got a full night planned, mate.”
“I’m sure we do.”
“And they’re doing their own thing.”
“I’m sure they are.”
He paused, watching as Sara caught his gaze and held it. Something passed from her eyes to his, something heavy and pleading. Behind her, Chloe looked up from where she’d been digging in her purse and saw me. Her lips parted and her hand fluttered up to her chest. In her eyes I could see genuine concern. Maybe even a touch of guilt. “You okay?” she mouthed.
If she felt guilty after her little act, then I was happy. I smirked. “No.”
But any sign of guilt vanished as she smiled wickedly, blowing me a kiss and tugging Sara’s arm. Together, Max and I watched them leave the club through the heavy steel doors we came through on entry.
“Fuck,” Max whispered. “We’re a couple of lucky arseholes.”
I sighed. “Yeah.”
I looked up and met his eyes. I knew he had a night planned, knew our activities were packed. But really, it was Friday night and we were here until Tuesday. Would it really matter if I slipped away for only an hour?
He leaned forward, grabbed my forearm, and started laughing. “Don’t even f**king think about it, Bennett.”
After the dim, almost cavelike atmosphere of the club, stepping outside was like being hit with a floodlight. Towering hotels crowded the dark sky and even from this distance, we could see the glow of LED and neon signs flashing from every casino on the strip. And Christ, was it loud. The sound of traffic blasted up from the street as we stood in the curved driveway in front of the building and waited for our driver. Cars stopped at the curb across the street, were emptied or loaded up before being driven away again. People of every shape and size shuffled by, horns honked in the distance, a series of sirens blared from a street a few blocks over.