Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
_______________
We pull up to the valet at the Mandalay Bay casino, and a man opens my door for me. I thank him as Grave comes around the front of the car and takes my hand. We haven’t spoken since Lucy called, and I didn’t miss that he shut his cell completely off after that.
First red flag.
I stay silent as we walk through the casino, not knowing where we are going, but I never get out much.
We come up to a restaurant that reads Fleur in white letters across the top. A man greets us dressed in a black three-piece suit. “Hello, Grave.” He nods and looks at me. “Ma’am.”
“Hello.” I smile at him.
He turns his attention back to Grave. “Your table is ready, sir. Please follow me.”
They seat us in the back at a round table. Grave pulls my seat out, and I sit down, thanking him. He sits across from me, and I place my napkin in my lap. My knees start to bounce once again. “Do you know everyone in Vegas?” I come out and ask.
“Pretty much,” he answers. “I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Owning a quarter of the biggest hotel and casino doesn’t hurt,” I add.
He smirks. “I was wondering if you did your research.”
I shrug. “A little.”
He arches a brow, his eyes on mine daring me to say more. I want to but not about his business. I want to ask about Lucy. Haven didn’t make it sound serious, but I’m betting she doesn’t know the whole situation between them. I look down at the table, unable to go there just yet. We’ll see how the date goes. Maybe tomorrow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GRAVE
DINNER WENT BY fast. Before I knew it, she’d had a few glasses of wine. I had water. I didn’t want to be drunk when I drove her home. I also haven’t had a hit yet today. I’m not even craving one.
We didn’t talk a whole lot. She was more focused on eating than digging for information, and I like that. Whatever she wants to know about me, she could read online, which she has obviously done. There are a few stories that the media have made up, but for the most part, I’m guilty for what they’ve accused me of.
“Oh, my gosh, that food was amazing.” She sighs, leaning back in the passenger seat.
“I’m glad you liked it,” I say, taking a quick look over at her. Her eyes are closed, and a smile tugs at her painted lips. “Just how drunk are you?” I ask with a laugh.
She opens her eyes and tilts her head to look at me. “I’m stuffed. Not drunk. It takes a lot to get me drunk.”
“Not a lightweight, huh?”
She laughs. “No. I partied too much in high school for that.”
“Not in college?”
“I dropped out of college freshman year.” She sighs. “I had to help my mom with Roses.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She waves me off, sitting up straighter. “I had no idea what I was going to do with my life anyway. I was just wasting money.”
I exit the highway and pull down her street. I stop in her driveway and get out, opening her door for her and walking her to her house. She unlocks the door and pushes it open.
“I had a great time tonight,” I tell her as she turns to face me.
She smiles and runs her hand down my shirt. “It doesn’t have to be over.”
My cock instantly hardens, and I swallow a growl. “April …”
She steps into me. “I’m an adult, Kyle.” She uses my real name, reminding me she’s looked me up. No one ever calls me that except for Bones when he’s pissed at me. “A woman. I know what I want. Do you?”
I reach out and cup her face, pulling her into me. “I do,” I say before pressing my lips to hers. She moans into my mouth, and I shove her dress up her legs before lifting her off her feet.
She wraps her legs around my waist as I step inside with her and slam the front door shut with my shoe.
“Where to?” I ask, pulling from her mouth.
“Up the stairs. Last door on the right,” she rushes out.
I make my way up the stairs and enter her bedroom. The lights are off, and she reaches over, flipping them on and I lick my lips. I like a woman who isn’t shy. I’ve been dying to look at her body. To touch her skin.
She wiggles out of my hold and stands before me. I reach up and rip my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor.
Her hands go to my bare chest, and she runs her fingers down over my body until they reach my jeans. She’s undoing my belt as I kick off my shoes.
I grab her dress and yank it off her. She stands before me in a black lace bralette and matching thong with her heels on. “You’re perfect,” I say, looking her over. She doesn’t have any tattoos, but her belly button is pierced with a black bar and purple ball on the end.