A Night in Sin City

by Amy Redwood

  “I swear, it won’t be you in his bed tonight,” she murmured, catching the woman’s blue-eyed glance as she looked over Brian’s shoulder. The blonde sized her up, and whatever she thought, she hid it well. Susannah gave her a wide smile, then lifted her cocktail and toasted her, enjoying the shocked expression on the woman’s face.

  The bartender laughed. “You’re a bad girl.”

  “Damn right.” She craved Brian, and she was getting to him. She’d seen it on his face after the ride. She could feel it. The blonde wasn’t a threat, she was a mere nuisance. Brian couldn’t possibly like her.

  “He’s not worth the frown on your face,” the bartender said with a grin. “My shift ends in two hours.” He winked, leaning over the counter and closer to her. “Let’s have coffee.”

  She grinned back, because his smile was cute and, without a doubt, on any other given night, she would have flirted with him. Maybe more than just flirted. “Not tonight.”

  “He was here yesterday,” he said with a nod to Brian. “Together with the blonde.” He cocked his head. “Think about it. My offer stands.”

  She stared at him, feeling suddenly lightheaded. “Yesterday? With her?” What were the odds that the bartender was mistaken? Oh, for crying out loud. “Did they leave together?” He only shrugged. She would not let Brian get away tonight. She clinked her empty glass. “Can I have another one of these?”

  “On the house.”

  * * * * *

  Brian had calmed the blonde, explaining that he’d promised to take care of his friend’s little sister, that he was about to walk her back to her hotel—would do that right this minute. He flashed the blonde his most promising smile, saying that he would make it up to her. If she would pretty please wait for him in the bar for half-an-hour?

  “Little sister?” she asked incredulously, looking over his shoulder.

  Unfortunately, he knew exactly what she saw: Suzie, dressed like a high-class hooker, looking like she could damn well take care of herself without him. His explanation sounded contrived even to his ears.

  Miraculously, the blonde agreed to wait for him, and he was determined to get rid of Suzie. She screwed up his brain—not to mention other body parts. Her party was officially over.

  “Time to go,” he said as he returned to the bar, aware that the blonde shot daggers at his back.

  “Time to go?” echoed Suzie, a frown on her face. “Where?”

  “I’ll walk you to your hotel, and then let’s call it a night.” After that, he would need another drink to get her out of his system, but wasn’t sure that it would work. “I have a date later.”

  “A date?” She stared over his shoulder. “Her?” she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down, her eyes flashing. “You’re going to fuck her?”

  He reached for his whiskey, then froze when her words hit home. He looked into her stormy eyes, still stunned to hear from her lips what had been on his mind all evening. It took him a few seconds to find his voice. “Watch your language.” Suzie was supposed to be sweet and innocent. She wasn’t supposed to say fuck.

  “No!” She slammed her hand on the steel countertop, almost knocking over his whiskey glass. “Damn it, Brian. I'd bet you haven’t known her longer than a few hours.”

  He had the impression that he better tread carefully. “That’s right, but that’s long enough.” He grabbed his whiskey and swirled the amber liquid around. “You, on the other hand, I’ve known way too long.”

  “You know nothing about me.” She took the glass out of his hands and drained it. “You don’t know me.”

  He didn’t move as she stepped closer, her legs brushing up against his. Her lips were soft and cool, but her tongue slipping into his mouth was warm and sweet, tasting of whiskey and cream. He didn’t know how long he kissed her back until his brain caught up with who he held in his arms.

  He pushed her away, breathing hard. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “What I’m doing?” she asked, her voice reduced to a whisper, her face flushed. “I checked to see if I could get some sort of reaction from you.” She licked her lips as she glanced down to his crotch. “I’m glad to see that you’re not dead after all.”

  He knew she saw his erection outlined against his jeans. She looked exactly as she had after the ride. He gazed in her face, seeing her wide mouth, the feverish heat in her eyes, and he wanted to have her spread out and naked under him, giving her a better reason to scream than a roller coaster ride.

  He closed his eyes, realization hitting hard. She had worked him up the whole evening. And he was sure that she hadn’t done it by accident. I’m an idiot. She wasn’t a sweet, innocent girl, but a manipulative brat. She’d pushed his buttons until he’d panted after her. And, fuck, he still wanted her so bad…

  Hang on, wasn’t there something else…ah, yes…the blonde. He turned around and glanced through the bar. As he had suspected, she was gone. Obviously she had seen that this hadn’t been a harmless goodnight kiss.

  He looked back at Suzie, lust and anger boiling up, and didn’t know anymore if he wanted to fuck or slap her. “You have cost me my date.” He had needed the blonde to get over Suzie. To get over all the tension she created in him with her laughter, her bouncing skirt, her perky breasts, and that damn great kiss.

  She stepped closer, smiling. “You can have a new date.”

  He jumped as she stroked over his hard-on, applying just enough pressure through the cotton of his jeans that he forgot to breathe.

  “Let’s go someplace else.” She gave a quiet laugh. “Or why not check out the bar’s bathroom?”

  For a split second, he imagined her leaning against a cubicle wall and spreading her legs for him. He groaned, shaking his head. She controlled his lust, turned him mindless. It was not something he enjoyed. What the fuck did she think she was doing? He grabbed her by the nape of her neck, her curls gliding between his fingers, and drew her close to his face. “Stop behaving like a slut.”

  The blow hitting his face came out of nowhere. Stunned, he rubbed his cheek, seeing her storming away. Suzie packed quite a punch.

  He exhaled, leaning against the bar. “Whiskey,” he said to the bartender. “Double, no ice.”

  The bartender coughed. “Look, man,” he said, “first you crawl into the woman’s lap with your eyes, you kiss her, and then you call her a slut?” He shook his head. “I don’t serve assholes.”

  “You don’t understand.” Brian closed his eyes. “She’s my best friend’s little sister!”

  “Little sister, my ass.” The bartender laughed. “She’s a woman who knows what she wants. And you,” he said, pointing his finger into Brian’s face, “get the hell out of my bar.”

  Chapter Four

  Susannah ran out the bar and into street noise and flickering neon lights. She swallowed a sob. Tears of frustration stung her eyes as she stared at the faces in the crowd. When she tripped over her feet she slowed down.

  Hitting him had lifted some pressure from her chest, but kissing him had been devastatingly amazing. Her whole body still ached for more. She stopped in her tracks and leaned against a lamppost, catching her breath. He’d kissed her with enough heat for both of them. How dare he leave her high and dry?

  “Fuck.” She wiped away a tear rolling down her cheek. Great, he made me cry, and on my birthday, no less. Why couldn’t he behave and take what she offered? Hell, men are supposed to like sex. And he damn well wasn’t an exception. She shivered, thinking how hard he’d been under her fingers. Why wasn’t her plan working? He must have some stupid principles which interfered with her wish to get him into the nearest bed. Nearest whatever.

  “Hey, gorgeous, why so sad?” A slurry voice addressed her. “You’re too pretty to cry.”

  She looked up and took in the bunch of guys standing around her in a circle. The red in their eyes indicated that they had enough drinks for one evening. Or for the rest of the month. She retreated slowly. Leaning against a lamppo
st while wearing a minuscule skirt was a mistake in any city. More so in Vegas.

  “Hey, don’t go.” One of them grabbed her arm. “We like you.” They snickered as if sharing a joke.

  The sickening smell of stale beer hit her face. She pulled her arm back, but the guy held tight. Judging by the expression on his face, he enjoyed her struggle. And even drunk, he was stronger than her any day. Okay, Susannah, nice and gentle.

  “Hi, guys.” She switched on a smile and with relief, she saw them all smiling back like sheep. “Am I right that you’re on a way to a party?”

  “Yeah, and you’ll come with us.” One of them pinched her bottom.

  Her face hurt from smiling so hard. What she really wanted was to take off her heels and club them all, but that wouldn’t be smart. The guy holding her yanked her along a few steps.

  “Wait.” She held up her hand and thrust out her chest to distract them. “I have a great idea. I’ll pop into the bar over there.” She pointed to the Blues Lounge. “And I’ll get two of my girlfriends to come along. We'll make it worth your time.” Smile, Susannah, smile. “That makes three girls,” she added, holding up three fingers just in case they were a bit slow. “How’s that?”

  They guffawed, and she marveled once more at the stupidity of men.

  “All right.” The guy holding her by the arm spoke first, and the others nodded, leering down her blouse. “But they better look hot, too, black bitch.”

  She forced a grin, relief flooding through her as the painful grip around her arm eased, when suddenly someone pushed her aside. “No!” she yelled, but it was too late. Brian sank his fist into the guy’s face. He aimed for a second blow, but the guy staggered back and then hit the ground.

  She sucked in her breath, staring at Brian. “You’re an idiot.” Where the heck had he come from anyway? “Hey.” She pushed against his shoulder, “I didn’t need rescuing.” She gazed into his face, but his eyes were strangely glazed over.

  Someone groaned, and she looked to the ground. The guy slowly got up, blood all over his face. His friends who had stood frozen for the last seconds now turned their drunken but hostile faces toward Brian.

  “Now that’s just great.” She took Brian’s elbow and backed away, but he wouldn’t move. She could practically smell the testosterone in the air. “Come along, please, do it for me.” She tugged at his arm, but he didn’t budge.

  With a metallic sound, something snapped open. One guy sported a small but lethal knife, and angry faces closed in around them. “Brian,” she whispered, “there are more than six, drunk or not.” She was sure he would soon find his brain again, but she didn’t care to wait. “I’m out of here.”

  She ran. As she had hoped, he followed seconds later, slipping his fingers into her hand. Interesting. He preferred holding her hand instead of getting knifed. She grinned while they ran through the crowds. She was feeling better already with him next to her. The chances that they were being followed were slim, and she stopped to catch her breath, wondering why evolution allowed males to survive when they lacked so many skills.

  Laughter bubbled up in her stomach. I know why. Sex probably was the reason males were still around. “What brain-dead caveman are you?” She squeezed his hand, brushing close to him.

  He was staring at her—his eyes still unsettled—and she wondered if he had really wanted to pick a fight, even one against six.

  “You know,” she said, “if you need someone to beat you up, I could be of service.” She couldn’t help it anymore. A fit of laugher overtook her body.

  “I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” he said, jerking at her arm and hauling her along. “Your brother asked me to keep an eye on you. I won’t let you get raped by some drunks.”

  “How chivalrous.” She jerked her arm back. “But you can snap out of it now. You’re walking me nowhere. I’ll go back to the bar and pick up the bartender. That’s what sluts do on their birthdays. I’m not sleeping alone tonight.” She turned and walked away, biting hard on her lip to keep from laughing. “See you, Brian. Go and find yourself another blonde.” She walked on, expecting him to come after her. Any second now…

  “No, you’re not going to do that.” He closed his fingers hard around her wrist. “You’ll stay with me.”

  Hah, there you go. She smiled—guys, easily manipulated. She turned around, about to tease him some more, when she heard a cold metal click around her wrist. Her heart skipped.

  “You’re a danger to yourself.” He lifted his hand, pulling her hand up, too.

  What the…? She stared at her handcuffed wrist, back at his face, and found his smile very worrying. “What the hell do you think—?“

  “You’re going nowhere but straight into my hotel room, where you can sleep alone until I put your ass back into the plane to your brother.” He walked on, pulling her after him, and she stumbled along next to him.

  “No.” She dug her heels into the ground, trying to stop him, but he was stronger. “You can’t do that.”

  “Watch me.”

  She tripped after him, the tight cuffs giving her a taste of freedom taken away, and her mind almost somersaulted with the effort to find a way out. I could scream—

  “In case you scream for help,” he said, giving her a dismissive look, “I’m sure the cops will offer you accommodation for one night if I tell them that you tried to pick me up.” He stopped and made a point of looking her up and down. “You look like a hooker in that outfit.”

  A chill crept over her skin at his inspection, turning her blood cold. Everything warm about him had turned to frost. He wasn’t joking. But his reaction is all wrong… He was supposed to get jealous over the bartender. And she wanted to hear an apology for calling her a slut, and then she would kiss him, and he would kiss her back, and he would beg her to forgive his rude behavior, hold her in his arms…

  “No!” she yelled, pushing him hard, but he only laughed. “No, please,” she begged. The cuffs freaked her out. He walked too fast, making her stumble in her heels. “Take them off!”

  “Stop yelling. I swear I’ll bring you to the next police station if you don’t come along like a good girl. And, I swear, I won’t hesitate to tell them a lie if it gets you off the street. Do you really want to spend the rest of the night alone in a cell?”

  “They wouldn’t believe you.” She jerked her chin up, but inside, she wasn’t so sure.

  “Do you really want to find out?” His voice was cool, and she suddenly believed that he would follow through with his threat if she wasn’t careful.

  “The cuffs scare me. Please, take them off.” Good, her voice had come across with just the right amount of submission. She blinked, concentrating on a few tears. Since she’d been little, she could cry at will. Striving for a meek expression, she turned her teary eyes to him. “Please, I’ll do what you want.”

  “You are already doing what I want.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “Impressive,” he said, “fake tears.” He lifted her chin with his finger, leaning forward. “Now be quiet.”

  She swallowed away the dryness in her throat, hating the leather around her wrist and his cold presence beside her. He had turned her down. Again. And even with all the people around her, she was alone. The fun and excitement had turned to a dead weight, pressing onto her shoulders. Tears prickled her eyes, and this time, they were real.

  He walked her past Bellagio’s water fountains, through the hotel lobby, and waited for the elevator, ignoring curious glances from other guests. The elevator came, opened with a soft hiss, and she stumbled after him. She stared to the floor, desperate to avoid the eyes of other people in the elevator.

  “She likes it,” Brian said cheerfully into the silence of the elevator, rattling at the cuffs. Someone giggled.

  Blood rushed into her face, and she wished the ground would open up or the elevator would explode, freeing her from the embarrassment. She lifted her foot to stomp on Brian’s shoe. She brought her foot down, but hit only the floor because
he’d pulled his foot away in time.

  “Too slow,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. “I saw that coming from a mile away.”

  She wanted to move closer but didn’t. “And you probably think you’re clever, too,” she whispered back, bringing her foot down a second time, satisfied to hear his groan.

  “If you’re not careful,” he pressed through his teeth, “you’ll walk barefoot home tomorrow.”

  Stop after stop the elevator emptied and they were the last to get off. They walked along a narrow corridor before finally stopping. Brian fumbled with a key card to open the door, walked her into the room, and switched on the light.

  She didn’t care a damn about the stunning suite. All she wanted was to get rid of the cuffs. And then hit him some more. She stopped him with her un-cuffed hand by the shoulder, searching his dark green eyes for hints of sympathy, but found none. “Brian, look, you can’t treat me like this. You don’t want me to tell my brother that you handcuffed me and stuck me in your room. He could get the wrong impression. And seriously, I’ll take care that he gets the wrong impression. You don’t want to lose your best pal, do you?” She licked over her dry lips. “Pretty please?” She held up her wrist.

  He nodded, his gaze serious. “I’ll take them off, but do you promise you’ll stay here in the room until tomorrow?”

  She exhaled with relief. I’m going to get away after all, and this time, I’m definitely going to do the bartender. Or maybe not…but shit, who knew that Brian could be so scary?

  She put a good-girl-smile on her face. Foolproof. Only a few seconds separated her from freedom. “I promise.” She crossed her heart. “I’ll stay and let you take me to the airport tomorrow. And I won’t utter a single word to Randall.” You bet I won’t.

  He smiled solemnly. “I knew you would say that.” He got a pair of small keys from his pocket and freed his own wrist.