Chasing Kings

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by Sierra Dean


  “Yeah…?” She seemed wary of answering at first, phrasing the word as a question.

  “I come here all the time. I should have honorary residency rights. Point being, I know all the good, fun places to go, and I think it’s only fair I share my knowledge with you.” He smiled and tried to make it a friendly one, though his default tended towards leering.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m bored, and we’re both alone in Vegas. We can either let it be a bummer, or we can have a good time together. Whaddya say?”

  She appeared to be mulling it over, carefully considering his proposition. Finally she said, “No sex.”

  “No sex?”

  “I’ll go with you, but we’re not having sex. So if this is some scheme to show me how charming you are in order for you to get in my pants, forget it. I’m not falling for it. No sex.”

  Was this girl for real?

  “That’s a pretty bold declaration. Who’s to say you won’t change your mind?”

  She paused before she said, “I won’t change my mind.”

  “You might change your mind. I’m sort of irresistible.”

  “So you’re admitting it was a ploy?”

  “No, I’m just saying you should never take sex off the table completely. Sex is fun. Why say no to fun?”

  “Good night, Ethan.” She started to close the door.

  “Wait, wait, wait. Okay, hold on.” He racked his brain, trying to figure out a way he could get her to join him without making any sexless promises. “I have a compromise.”

  “This should be good.”

  “You’ll like it, I swear.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “I will be a perfect gentleman until you say otherwise. I won’t proposition you, and I’ll keep my hands to myself until you tell me I can put them somewhere else.”

  “Don’t hold your breath on that one.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me, Sam. I can hold my breath for a good, long time.”

  Chapter Six

  Sam had to be out of her damned mind.

  For starters, basic common sense told her it was a terrible idea to wander out into Vegas alone with a veritable stranger. It hardly mattered that he was a somewhat famous stranger, because being in porn didn’t suggest a tendency towards morally sound decision-making.

  Yet she’d agreed to go.

  Which was even stupider. She knew full well she wanted to sleep with him, and the flimsy promise of no sex wasn’t going to do her any good if she decided she wanted to jump his bones. She couldn’t stop herself from eating M&Ms when she was on a diet, so how was she going to keep from climbing on him and giving his totem pole a whirl?

  His totem pole?

  The third obvious issue here was that she must be having a mental breakdown. Maybe it was vacationing alone, or the split from Kyle, but this behavior had to be indicative of a complete lapse of sanity.

  She was going to get shipped off to an asylum for the slutty when she got home, because there was no way anyone would be able to overlook her romp with a porn star.

  They don’t need to know, she reminded herself.

  Once she’d gotten dressed and run a brush through her hair, she met Ethan in the hotel lobby where he was investigating the costume Britney Spears wore in her “…Baby One More Time” video.

  “Ready to go?” He gave her a cursory once-over and managed not to come across like a wolf sizing up the weakest sheep in the flock. “You look nice.”

  Sam touched the hem of her skirt, a basic A-line she’d brought in case of a special event. She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to wear it now. “Thanks.”

  Ethan offered her his elbow, and she hesitated, trying to determine if he was up to something. It was just an elbow. He couldn’t fuck her with it.

  Her eyes went wide when she started wondering if he could.

  Instead of making things any weirder than they already were, Sam looped her arm under his and smiled warily. “You planning to behave yourself?” she asked.

  “I rarely do.”

  His blue eyes twinkled, and with his dark curls, he reminded her of a once-golden angel who’d been doused a little too freely with sin. Oh yeah, she had to be nuts to think this evening was a good idea.

  But what the hell?

  Who went to Vegas to play things safe?

  After catching a cab at the valet, Ethan took them to the tail end of the Strip, getting off in front of the Venetian. Sam wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but his childlike exuberance made him hard to resist.

  “Come look at this,” he insisted, waving her over to an arced white bridge.

  Sam was having a hell of a time finding one single thing to focus on. Between the fountain out front and the brightly lit Italian-styled balcony spread across the facade of the hotel, the sights were distracting to say the least.

  Ethan was leaning against one of the big white railings on the bridge, peering over the edge. When Sam came up next to him, she followed his gaze to the water below. The faux canal had the blue-green water she’d only seen in pictures of Fiji or Lake Tahoe, and a half-dozen gondolas were lined up, their striped poles bobbing with the swaying influence of the wind.

  The sole working gondolier pushed a smiling couple through the canal and under the bridge she and Ethan were standing on.

  “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t want to admit it, especially not so soon, but he was right. Seeing an Italian gondolier sweep someone away on a romantic boat ride right in the middle of a kitschy tourist city was pretty nifty. Maybe she hadn’t given Vegas a fair shake.

  “Okay. You got me, this is neat. But this is one thing. I’d hardly call it an amazing spectacle or anything.”

  “You say that now, Ms. Grinch, but the night is young and we have the whole Strip waiting for us. I guarantee you by the time we’re through you’re going to be madly in love with this city. And hopefully you won’t still think your vacation was wasted in coming here.”

  “Want to make a bet?”

  “A bet?”

  “Yeah, in the spirit of the whole thing, this being Vegas and all.”

  “What are the terms?”

  “If we get back to the hotel and I can honestly say I didn’t have fun, you have to use all your big porn earnings to upgrade me to a nicer room.”

  Ethan snorted and rolled his eyes. “I think you overestimate how much money we make, but I’m pretty sure I can swing an upgrade.”

  “All right.” Sam smiled in spite of herself. She’d wanted to keep her poker face in check so he wouldn’t realize she was already enjoying herself, but the grin still managed to slip out. Stupid traitorous face.

  “Don’t you want to know what I want if I win?” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked on his heels, smirking like a brazen schoolboy.

  “The look you’re giving me right now makes me think I know what you’re going to say.” Her tummy churned, nerves causing a stormy sea to bubble and swirl inside her.

  “Don’t think the worst. You made me promise no sex, remember? Not until you say the word.”

  “All right. What do you want if you win, then?”

  “A kiss.” A Cheshire Cat grin spread across his face, highlighting his dimples and making him seem both innocent and roguish all at the same time.

  Oh boy, was she in trouble.

  “Fine. One kiss. But I’m going to make you work for it.”

  “I’d expect nothing less.” Ethan extended his hand to her, and she took it without hesitating.

  He led her across the street towards the mammoth structure of the Mirage Hotel. Sam had watched plenty of representations of Vegas in movies and on countless episodes of CSI, but nothing she’d seen had prepared her for the scale of the place. Everything was huge, and just walking through the crowds and staring up at the hotels made her feel insignificant. She hadn’t felt that way since her first memories of walking through the redwoods back in Oregon. Somehow Vegas manage
d to capture the same sensation, even more than being in a real large city could. Maybe it had something to do with being able to see the Eiffel Tower, the New York City skyline and a scaled-down Sphinx all in one stretch of road.

  It was too much stuff for her poor brain to process.

  Ethan guided her past the Mirage and Caesars Palace—a structure so gargantuan Sam was sure the whole population of her home town could fit in it and still have room for ten thousand extra guests—and he didn’t stop walking until they reached an alcove in front of the Bellagio, with a view of the half-scale Eiffel Tower across from them.

  “Do you think taking me to Paris is all it will take to dazzle me?” she teased.

  “Paris is over there.” Ethan pointed to a blue neon hot air balloon with the French city’s name scrawled over it in shimmering yellow lights. “What I’m showing you is there.” He indicated a wide span of black water, which seemed utterly unimpressive compared to the edifices surrounding it.

  “You figure that’s kissworthy? You must be used to some easily astonished girls.”

  “As true as that might be, hold your horses for a second.” He checked his watch then angled her towards the water with two firm hands on her waist. He didn’t pull away immediately, his fingers trailing up her spine and stopping on her shoulders, both thumbs kneading the tense point at the base of her neck. “Trust me.”

  “Said the porn star.”

  Ethan leaned in, his lips so close to her ear she could feel the heat from his mouth when he whispered, “I’m going to make you eat those words. And you’re going to like it.”

  Sam shuddered involuntarily, and liquid heat speared her in the most intimate place, making a wave of goose bumps prickle up her arm hairs.

  The hard-rock song blaring over the Bellagio speakers grew quiet, and the faint strains of a classical symphony replaced them. Considering how everything she’d heard up to that point had been the most obnoxious, overpowering music available, the classical tune was a jarring—but welcome—change of pace.

  The music swelled up, and with it a row of small fountains emerged from the water, lit bright white so it appeared as if the water itself was glowing. Sam stood rapt as the spouts began to bend and arc in time with the music, the water starting low then suddenly shooting up into the air sixty feet, blotting out the view of Paris behind them. A circle in the center of the display rose higher than everything around it, and the mist left behind was illuminated by the lights of the Strip, glowing like fairy dust as it fell to the lake’s surface.

  The display continued for five minutes, with the fountains moving with the music, bowing and dipping like a living thing. With one final, triumphant upwards explosion the fountains vanished, leaving the water smooth and calm while the last curtain of mist fell back to the surface. The music died out, and Sam was left only with the hammering sensation inside her chest.

  Tourists around them started to move away, leaving the balcony almost clear and the gleaming structure of the Eiffel Tower behind them. The hard rock kicked in again with a whining guitar solo, making Sam’s ears pound in time with her heart.

  “Wow,” she said, when she could form words.

  “Good wow?”

  “Very good wow.”

  Ethan smiled, his hand going to her waist as she turned away from the view of the fountain. “Would you say you were…dazzled?”

  “I want to lie, because you’re smirking at me like you’ve won the Super Bowl, but I can’t. That was amazing. Consider me thoroughly dazzled.”

  “Oh, you’re not thoroughly dazzled. Not yet.” His hand tightened on her waist, tugging her closer, and she didn’t feel the urge to resist him. Instead she yielded to his embrace, going willingly as he pulled her body against his.

  He was taller than her, which was a delight in and of itself since she was five-foot-nine and often had trouble meeting men who weren’t put off by her stature. Ethan was barely six feet tall, but it was enough of a difference he had to bend his neck to kiss her. The gesture made her feel small and feminine.

  His free hand cupped the back of her neck, and his fingers were warm in the desert night air. She trembled when his lips met hers, having difficulty remembering the last time a kiss had made her feel like a nervous schoolgirl.

  Ethan didn’t kiss like a porn star, at least not how she’d decided he would based on the movie she’d seen. His lips were soft and gentle, the barest brush against her mouth, and he pecked her once, then lingered longer the second time.

  When it seemed as if he might pull away, leaving her wanting, Sam reached out and held his face between her nerve-dampened palms, keeping him locked in place. Her tongue grazed his lower lip, and in its wake she nipped him lightly, then hesitated, afraid he might be spooked by her forwardness.

  She felt his smile, though she couldn’t see it, and he whispered, “I knew there was a bad girl in there.”

  He pushed his body firmly into hers, his grip on her neck tightening as he deepened the kiss from his end. His tongue delved into her mouth, teasing hers with a wicked curl and sending sparks of pleasure rioting through her body. He tilted his head for a better angle, forcing her mouth wider, and she drank in his unique flavor as her tongue brushed his. Ethan Silver tasted like pure lust—spicy and dangerous—and she couldn’t get enough.

  He pulled away after a minute, and Sam made a small noise of protest. Ethan kissed the tip of her nose, his cheeks flushed, his smile sweet.

  “Now you’re properly dazzled.”

  And damn if the cheeky devil wasn’t right.

  Chapter Seven

  The Provocateur Suite was dark when Ethan returned, his head still buzzing from the heady flavor of Sam’s kiss lingering on his lips. He hadn’t expected one kiss to knock him for such a loop, but the way she yielded to him and the eager need she conveyed with only her mouth set his whole body aflame.

  He’d walked Sam to her room with the promise that he’d show her more impressive sights the next afternoon—though he didn’t yet know where he planned to take her. She’d kissed him good night, and damn if he wasn’t excited about seeing her again.

  Kelly hadn’t arrived, meaning she was probably off doing something she’d regret later—either coke or a megalomaniac producer. If that was the case, it was anyone’s guess when she’d show up. Assuming she showed up at all.

  He chucked his leather jacket on the sofa in the living room and was about to head for the bed when a lamp on the corner table clicked on. Ethan’s heart stopped. A man in a charcoal-gray suit was seated on the couch, his arm stretched across the backrest, displaying his best approximation of boredom.

  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d skipped town,” the man said, crossing his legs and lighting a cigarillo. His salt-and-pepper hair was thin and slicked back, and the sharp angles of his nose and chin made him seem more like a feral animal than a human.

  He blew out a plume of purplish smoke and narrowed his black eyes at Ethan. “Aren’t you going to say hello, Ethan? A dear old friend shows up out of the blue, and you don’t have a kind word to say?”

  “Hello, Julian.”

  “It’s a real shame you missed the party tonight. I was hoping to have a chat with you.”

  “I didn’t feel like going to one of Antoine’s parties.”

  “The girls were sad. You’re always so popular.” Julian took another puff off his smoke and let the cloud slide from his lips like a wispy snake. “And since when did you decide whether you could or couldn’t go to my and Antoine’s parties?”

  “You’re taking credit for them now?” Ethan looked at the front door, wondering if he had a shot in hell of making it. There was no point in running. Julian might come across as calm, but Ethan had been introduced to the snub-nosed revolver Julian carried and didn’t feel like renewing the acquaintance tonight.

  He sat on the couch as far from Julian as he could get and tried to stay calm. So far they were just talking, and the older man could be content to talk for a good long ti
me as long as he wasn’t being talked back to.

  “I think you and I both know who’s in charge here. You knew what you were signing on for. You stupid kids think you’ll find a loophole, you think I don’t know all the shitty tricks you’re going to pull. I know all the excuses. I know all the lies. You can’t fuck me over, Ethan. I own you.”

  “You don’t own me. I owe you ten grand. Once that’s paid off, you and I are done. Just like that.”

  Julian snapped his fingers. “Just like that? You think it’s going to be so simple?”

  No, of course it wouldn’t be that simple.

  If you owed Julian five dollars, you might as well be signing your soul over to the devil. Ethan had known what he was getting into when Kelly had asked to borrow the money, and he’d known it was a bad idea, but at the time a bad idea was better than nothing.

  He knew how wrong he’d been now.

  “I can get you the money.”

  “You know I’m in no hurry.” A smoke ring floated high into the air, a dirty halo hovering over them both. It was oddly fitting given their surroundings. “I have plenty of uses for you. Provided you meet your end of the bargain.”

  “I said I’d pay you. I’ll pay you.”

  “I don’t know if I like your tone, Ethan.”

  Ethan dug his short nails into the soft skin on his palms, letting the bite of pain override any fear he might feel from being alone in a room with Julian. He’d asked for a thirty-day loan on the money, promising a full return in that time.

  The problem was nothing had gone as planned since he’d gotten the cash. Kelly had assured him she knew someone who was making a movie without studio backing, but she was sure it was going to be a hit. They needed some upfront capital, and she thought Ethan might want in.

  He’d been expecting a big payday on a project of his own but didn’t have the funds immediately available, and Kelly had made it sound like a can’t-miss opportunity.

  So he’d borrowed.

  Now Kelly was somewhere in the wind, probably high off her ass on however much cocaine ten grand could buy, and Ethan was hoping like hell he could cover the scratch before his thirty days were up.

 

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