Her gaze darts to her boyfriend’s and then back to mine. “Well, I mean you know Trix. She uh . . .” She chews on her lip.
“Guess you weren’t here for the party last night?” Kim’s boyfriend chimes in, a sympathetic smile plastered across his dorky face.
“No.”
“I just assumed . . . wow.” She rubs her forehead. “This is embarrassing.”
“No, it’s okay.” It is so not fucking okay. “I knew she had a party.”
I swallow hard and take another step back. Did he spend the night? Here. With her. I’ve never even spent the night here.
Without saying good-bye, I turn toward my truck, not moving nearly as quickly as I was when I got here.
Fine. He spent the night. But she said she’s still mine, so no sex. Does that include her mouth on his—fuck, no. I can’t go there. Not even in theory.
This is torture. Absolute fucking torture.
I growl and stifle the urge to put my fist through the window of my truck. How will we ever be able to survive this?
At this rate, we won’t.
Thirty-one
Trix
Angel, Kayla and I pulled up to Caesars Palace with Santos in tow. Hatch was right. After a call to our boss and what I’m sure was a massive money exchange, we were cut from our shift early and picked up by a limo.
Memories from the last time I was here pierce me with regret, and I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. So much has changed since my first run-in with Mason. Walking through the giant doors into the casino, I’m not the same girl I was before he crashed into me.
Back then I was floating, unsure of what I wanted. And now, I’m dead set on my future. With this last obstacle keeping us apart, I plan on ending this as soon as possible and putting us both out of our misery.
“I can’t believe how much this job is paying,” Kayla whispers between Angel and me as we all follow Santos to whatever room we’re supposed to report to.
Angel rocks into my hip with hers. “Two grand each, plus tips, and you’re still thinking of quitting?”
She lifts an eyebrow, daring me to say yes. “We could walk in on a bunch of asshole pervs. Would the two grand still be worth it?”
“Fuck yeah, it would.” Kayla giggles at her own enthusiasm. “I’ve never made this kind of money without having to suck dick.”
Angel cackles and gets a glare from Santos that says High-class, ladies. Let’s try to act like it.
She leans into my shoulder. “What’s his problem,” she whispers so he won’t hear. “He’s been funky all night.”
“He just needs to get laid.” Kayla rolls her eyes as if the solution to all men’s problems is just that easy.
The girls quietly giggle the rest of the walk to the room, while I steel myself and muster up courage for the night. Hatch will expect me to drink heavily and pay a lot of attention to the men he’s trying to impress, I’m sure. It’ll be difficult to get more information out of him, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about these parties, they’re great for eavesdropping.
When powerful men get together, they’re all so busy trying to out peacock the other they don’t even consider the dancer rubbing her tits in their faces is listening to every word they speak.
Diversion by sexual persuasion. PI work at its finest.
We make a turn and stop at a set of double doors. Santos checks the number to his phone then puts it away to knock.
“Holy shit!” Kayla whisper yells. “This is a villa.” Her wide eyes study the door. “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of one of—”
The door swings open, and a guy around my age stares openly at the three of us without greeting, completely ignoring Santos. Dark brown eyes peer out beneath his overgrown hair and rake along our bodies from feet to tits.
I throw a hand on my cocked hip. “You gonna let us in, cowboy?”
His lips curl into a crooked grin. “Hatch!” He calls over his shoulder.
Hatch appears at the mouth of the marble foyer. He barely spares us a glance, and if I’m not mistaken, it looks like he avoided looking at me altogether. “Yep, let ’em in.” He disappears deeper into the place or, rather, palace.
The ceilings are taller than I’ve ever seen in one of these suites, and everything is decorated with an old-world flare that screams rich and pretentious. We stick close to Santos as he follows the younger guy down a long hallway and into a room. There’s a pool table and a bar, similar to the last place, but through the patio doors are a pool, spa, fire pit, and another bar that, even from this distance, I can see is fully stocked.
“Who the hell has this kind of money?” Angel whispers form behind me.
“No clue.” But certainly not Hatch.