by Taryn Quinn
In lieu of an answer, I squeezed her hand and waved off the waiting car.
The weather was balmy and perfect. At first, she didn’t get too close as we walked, though she never broke the link of our fingers. But then she cuddled in, resting her head against my arm now and again as she noted the sights and I offered my own insight. I wasn’t a Vegas connoisseur, but I’d visited a few times.
None of those trips had been like this.
I’d always traveled alone, and I lived my life mostly by rote. Seeing things without truly experiencing them.
Sage made that impossible.
“God, I love palm trees. They’re so majestic. I wish we had them in New York.”
It felt good to laugh. “Not thinking that will happen. The climate isn’t quite hospitable for them.”
“But they’re so pretty. Look at all the stars.” She tipped her head back against my arm.
“How can you even see them?” The dazzling lights of the strip nearly rendered it impossible for me to make them out.
“I have excellent eyesight. Besides, when else will I have a chance to see real Vegas stars? I’ll fill in the damn dots if I have to. Dang,” she corrected as I chuckled.
“We could rent a car tomorrow, take a ride out to the desert. You could see them so much clearer out there.”
She smiled up at me, subtly tightening her hold on my arm. It was as if some kind of barrier had broken between us as soon as she’d grabbed me in fright during the plane ride.
I didn’t want that barrier to return. Ever.
“I’d like that. Assuming we don’t spend all day in bed.” She grinned. “Which we cannot, because hello, we’re in Vegas.”
I swallowed and my tongue ended up near my knees.
Holy fuck, how could one barely dirty comment make me harder than the sidewalk we were walking on?
“So how do you feel about gambling?”
I was supposed to talk now? I was having enough trouble walking due to the sudden constriction in my trousers.
“It’s entertaining enough,” I managed. Barely. “In limited doses.”
“What do you play?”
“Baccarat,” I said succinctly.
“And?”
“Baccarat.”
She frowned. “What about slots?”
“What about them?”
“Do you play those? They look really fun. I saw this Friends episode once, you know the one where Ross and Rachel ended up married—” She broke off and cocked her head. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“You’re unique.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” She propped a hand on her hip. “I bet you’ve never seen Friends, have you?”
“No. The title seemed too banal to merit interest.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your banal is the rest of the world’s must-see TV, boyo.” She tugged me with her up the street. We’d reach The Colosseum one of these days. “We’ll watch it together. I know all the good episodes and the ones to skip. I have Netflix.” She raised her brows at me as if she expected me to argue, or perhaps to make Celine-Dion-level insults.
I did neither. It had already occurred to me that this trip would end in under forty-eight hours. If I didn’t figure out a plan to ensure she’d continue seeing me once we returned home, she probably would not. As soon as we resumed our regular routines, I had a feeling she’d be back to hating my guts and voting against me in polls about which was the hottest Hamilton twin.
And yes, I’d heard of that poll, and yes, I knew she’d been the only one to vote Seth ahead of me. I’d been amused at the time. Hate and love were opposite each other across such a thin line.
Now the reality of our lives wasn’t all that funny. It would be too easy for us to fall into typical patterns and lose whatever this was.
I didn’t know yet. Didn’t have a fucking clue. But I wanted a chance to let it evolve without meddling brothers and nosy sisters-in-law and just daily life intruding.
“When?” I asked.
She pursed her lips. “You’re agreeable?”
I nodded.
“Hmm, well, we probably won’t have time this trip. You don’t mean…”
Gravely, I nodded again.
“You want to see me when we’re back home?”
“I always see you when we’re back home. Practically on a daily basis.”
“Not like that.” She waved her free hand. “I mean, this kind of seeing.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “The kind where I put my mouth on your manly bits.”
I choked out a laugh. God, she was something. “Well, that part can always be negotiated, but we’re friends now, right?”
“I guess.”
Such enthusiasm truly warmed a man’s heart. But I sensed I needed to tread gently here before I sent my little deer fleeing into the woods. “Friends watch TV together. They eat meals together too.”
“They do.” She squealed and pointed at a plane going overhead with a message trailing behind it. “Oh my gosh, look! It’s a marriage proposal. Aww, isn’t that the sweetest thing?”
“Shouldn’t something like that be kept private?”
She gave me a glacial look that said I’d probably be watching Friends by myself. In the dark. In my boxers while holding a bottle of Molson.
“Do you know anything at all about romance? I thought you were considered suave with the ladies.”
“The women I typically date aren’t looking for romance.”
“I bet,” she muttered darkly, not so subtly moving away from me.
My phone buzzed at my hip and I picked it up, intending to ignore the call. It was my brother. Why was he calling instead of texting as he normally did?
Oh shit, was it the baby? I hadn’t gotten any of those infernal twin vibes that always seemed to assail me when my brother was in pain—either physical or severe emotional—but maybe distance affected the reception. We’d never tested the boundaries of the supposed twin bond. I tried to dismiss it as hogwash most of the time anyway.
I swallowed hard and accepted the call. “Is the baby okay?”
Beside me, Sage stopped walking and put a hand to her mouth.
“The baby is fine. How is Sage?”
I slid a sideways glance at her and minutely shook my head. “Other than you scaring her witless by calling, she’s perfectly fine. What’s going on?”
“And how are you?”
That explained why there were no twin vibes, and it wasn’t due to location. The jackass was on a scouting mission, probably thanks to his lovely wife.
“Having the time of my life. I’ve never had a more incredible trip.” Beside me, Sage tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Filled with all the sights and sounds of a splendorous Vegas—”
“Cut the crap. Have you slept with her or not?”
I cleared my throat. Luckily, the sidewalks were filled with so many revelers and tourists, all heading in and out of the casinos and hotels, that Sage couldn’t have heard Seth’s booming voice if she wanted to. And she clearly did, since she was walking on her tiptoes to try to get closer to my ear.
I switched my cell to the other hand. “I can vouch there has been no sleeping.”
Seth swore. “She’s a virgin. You know that. How could you?”
Somewhere down deep, something akin to hurt flared. I didn’t care that I was known as a womanizer in town. I knew the truth, that I treated women with respect and told no lies about my intentions. But to have my own brother—my goddamn twin—act as if I was some horny asshole who’d dragged Sage into a bathroom to join the mile-high club was too much.
Didn’t you practically do just that? You dragged her into a hot tub. She told you she rarely received physical affection anymore. Are you honestly surprised she sought comfort from you? You were available. Convenient. What happens in Vegas…and she’s already been reluctant to make plans with you afterward.
Sage stopped walking and pointed at a boutique that was still open. I didn’t und
erstand what she meant until she darted into the shop.
Maybe she had heard. Or maybe she just wanted to shop until she dropped. Who even knew anymore?
“We haven’t slept together,” I said through gritted teeth once the door closed behind her. “Happy now?”
Seth audibly exhaled. “Yes, I am. Ally said she wasn’t worried since Sage hates you, but I told her not to diminish your skills at the woo.”
“Skills at the woo? Is that some childish reference to performing oral sex on a woman?”
Seth laughed. “Hardly. You know, wooing a woman. You’re good at it. And Sage is an easy mark. Tell her she’s pretty, spend some time with her, and she’s likely to confuse sex and love.”
“Whoa there, sex and love? On the first day we’re traveling together? Also, don’t you think you should give Sage a bit more credit?” When he didn’t respond right away, I shook my head. “You and Ally are a pair, all right. Both claim to love her but don’t see her for half of what she truly is.”
“Hmm. Sounds like a little more than the commentary of her frenemy, don’t you think? Maybe you’re the one confusing sex and love already.”
“I’m not confused about anything. You, however, are confused if you think I’m going to continue this conversation. Goodnight, Seth. Give Ally my best.” I clicked off before he could do more than sputter.
As much as I didn’t want to find any value in what he’d said, he was probably right about one thing. Sage was in a sensitive spot right now. She wanted fun and adventure, and maybe that was making her less than choosy about her companion for such. I’d come along on this trip not by her choice. Maybe the hot tub adventure had been about proximity more than the boiling over of repressed sexual desire.
She was a virgin, after all. She had to be boiling so hard that she was capable of setting herself aflame. That didn’t mean she was boiling specifically for me.
Sage deserved more credit, and so did I. Just because I wanted Sage for reasons that extended beyond this trip, didn’t mean the opposite was true. I wasn’t fully certain what all those reasons were yet or when exactly they’d taken root. But perhaps it didn’t matter.
What happened in Vegas might stay in Vegas. And that was a game I didn’t intend to play.
Seven
Sage
Oliver was barely speaking to me. I didn’t even think it had to do with Celine. I’d caught him bobbing his head and humming under his breath during her show—which had been fan-fucking-fabulous, thank you very much, and screw you, swear gallon. But he was quiet during our post-show nightcap at a martini bar in our hotel, and I compensated by trying some of the mixed drinks off the menu.
Some being four.
He sipped one whiskey throughout, eyeing me placidly as I sampled my cares away. By the time we left, I was leaning heavily on his arm and giggling loudly enough to catch the eye of more than a few of the patrons.
Eh, whatever. This partying thing was new to me. It took practice to get right.
“Did you know I’ve never actually been drunk?” I asked as we entered the casino. We’d discussed that earlier—I thought—but I didn’t know if he remembered.
It was a miracle I remembered, never mind him.
“What do you call what you are right now?”
“Hmm.” I had to ponder that. It seemed to take a while. “Buzzed?”
“If that’s you with just a buzz, the idea of you fully drunk is a frightening prospect.”
“You’ll get to see,” I said cheerfully. “I intend to get wasted tonight.”
He gripped my elbow and propelled me forward. “You can,” he said against my ear, “because I’m here to keep you safe.”
The words created another kind of buzz in my chest, soft and warm like a handful of fireflies swarming around in the summer. The feminist side of me wanted to declare I could keep myself safe just fine, but right now, I was quite happy to let him take the lead on that so I could have fun.
“I appreciate that,” I said a little mistily as I smiled up at him. He was so handsome despite sometimes being a jackass. I also enjoyed his penis. “I spend too much time worrying, you know? So, I’m not going to do that anymore. This is me being wild and free.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. What do you want to play?”
“Everything.”
I was pretty sure I heard him sigh. “Somehow I guessed that would be your answer. Okay, new question. What do you want to start with?”
Turning my head, I widened my eyes. “Whoa, so much to see. Can we look around a bit first? Get the lay of the land. Like I want to get laid.” For some reason, that struck me as hysterically funny.
Now he definitely sighed. “C’mon then.”
I gripped his sleeve as he navigated through the crowds of people clustered around tables and machines. Lights and noise assailed my senses, pinging around in my dizzy head like pinballs set on scatter. So much to take in at once. I didn’t know where to go or what game I wanted to play. I wanted to get the full experience. Oh, and free drinks!
Without slowing down, I grabbed a pretty red drink off a passing tray and Oliver shook his head as I downed half of it in one go. It went right to my head. Cranberry. Yum.
“Wonder what this is?” I stared at my drink with appreciation. “So yummy.”
“Let me try it.”
“Okay.” I took a sip and held it in my mouth as I reached up and seized hold of his jacket to drag him down to my level. His dark pupils flared for an instant before our mouths connected, and I somewhat sloppily transferred the beverage. And sucked on his tongue for good measure.
He made a strangled noise and moved back, running his hand over his lips. He was saying something, but I wasn’t listening.
Like not even a little bit.
I wanted to fuck this man, and not because I was drunk. There was this weird sense of connection between us, drunk or sober, and being buzzed only took away my nerves of what our lives would look like post-sex. Right now, I didn’t care what came after. I wanted to ride this feeling.
Hard. All night long.
His lips were still moving, and I was staring at them like an addict would eye a loaded needle. I needed more. He had a vast wealth of experience, and he would share it with me. I could become a sex expert in the course of one weekend.
Okay, so maybe that part was the alcohol talking.
“Sage? Are you still with me? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m horny,” I blurted, and I swear to God, he blushed.
It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Forget cooing babies. This confident, self-possessed man blushing over me saying I had sexual needs had to be the most adorable thing in the world.
Until he cupped my cheek and turned my head enough to murmur in my ear, “About ten men around us heard that, and you’re not to take any of their numbers when they fling them at you.”
I craned my neck to look around his broad shoulders, and nearly toppled over, so I grabbed his arm for balance as I peered at the men in my midst. A couple were staring. Hmm. I needed to work on my indoor voice.
“It wasn’t intended for them.”
Rather than responding with one of those heated looks I’d grown quite fond of earlier, he slipped his arm around my shoulders and nudged me forward. “So, what are we starting with?”
“Sexually? Well, hmm, I’ve always been curious about trying sixty-nine, though I prefer side to side because really, whose ass looks good hanging over a dude’s face? I’m surprised first dates ever turn into—mmph!” I mumbled as Oliver covered my mouth with his hand.
He was definitely giving me a heated look now. Just not the sexual kind.
“We can discuss this—all of this,” he said firmly, “later. Right now, pick what game you would like to play before we’re tossed out for lewd behavior.” After a moment, he finally lowered his hand.
“I’m not being lewd.” Fussily, I straightened my dress. “And you asked.”
“I did not ask about your o
pinions on mutual oral satisfaction. Your mind just lives in the gutter.”
“Of course it does, because my body lives in a convent.”
He said nothing, just towed me along to what he considered an acceptable slot machine. In the meantime, I downed the second half of my drink.
By the last swallow, I didn’t care that he was a stuffy prick. He was still hot. I wanted to pinch his ass.
I was bending over sideways, picking my precise target, when he whirled around and caught my shoulders. “Whatever you’re doing, I would not advise it.” He exhaled and looked up at the ceiling. “If only I had known what I was in for when Ally asked me to babysit you.”
The words barely dented my brain. They landed and just as quickly slotted into some secret corner where they would pop up at the most inconvenient time.
“Let’s play Baccawhatever,” I said with a hiccup.
He wasn’t looking at me, but at the passing pretty server with a tray of drinks. He smiled at her, and I swear to God, if I’d had a fork in my hand, the cute brunette would’ve had it between the eyes.
So, drinking made me violently jealous. Live and learn.
Then I realized he was taking an iced water off the tray and passing it into my hand, exchanging it for my empty cup. I downed it without shame. I was so insanely thirsty.
“You have to stay hydrated. For every drink, you need to drink the same amount of water or you’re going to spend half your Vegas vacation in bed. With. A. Hangover,” he added as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had detoured.
“Do you think she’s hot?”
“Who?” He blinked at me owlishly, clearly confused, and I wanted to kiss him again.
“Let’s play Baccawhatever,” I said again, plastering myself a little tipsily against his chest. “You can teach me,” I purred.
One of his black eyebrows winged up. “Your retention skills right now aren’t worth the breath.”
“It really turns me on when you talk stuffy like that,” I said to his back as he walked toward the tables, apparently trusting I would follow.
I did, because I was back to watching his ass. Such full cheeks. Surprising on such a leanly muscled man. Then again, I hadn’t made a study of many male asses. Such a shame. They were so sexy.