He responded instantly, pressing his body hard against me, and moving his hands from my arms. One hand grabbed the back of my neck, the other gripped my ass hard, and I hooked one leg around him, crazed to feel more of him against my body. He was hard, and I felt it, liked it. We kissed like teenagers for almost a minute and then separated, breathing hard. He kissed me one final time, hard, and then let me go. He smiled at me playfully, then we walked back to the table.


Our waiter appeared, quick enough for me to suspect he'd been standing in the shadows, waiting for our makeout session to complete. I blushed, but he seemed completely at ease. He was followed by a tall man carrying a large tray loaded with desserts.

Fifteen minutes later, I had eaten small bites of tiramisu, pineapple cheesecake, fruit-loaded creme brûlée, and some extremely rich chocolate mousse. We had downed ice water but no alcohol, and I stretched luxuriously, my stomach filled to the brim. Candlelight flickered off the remnants of our desserts and Brad's face glowed across from me in the light. I licked the last bit of mousse off of my spoon and played with the metal in my mouth, eliciting a smile from Brad.

"You are incorrigible." he murmured.

"That I am," I said. "Would you be too disappointed if I wanted to skip the show, and instead curl up in PJs and watch Friends? Tonight is a marathon." I let my eyes light up.

He sighed and looked wounded. "If that's what you really want."

"Do you typically come to Vegas alone?"

"It's probably half and half."

"So when you're alone, if you were alone tonight, what would you do?"

"I'm not normally ever alone. Even when I come alone, I normally meet someone here. Beautiful women fill the casinos."

"You mean prostitutes?"

"I think the preferred title is escort, but no."

"Never?"

He sighed and looked at me, bemused. "You ask a lot of questions."

"As do you. And I answered all of yours."

"Point made. A previous host I had sent up a girl once. I declined the escort, and spoke to the host. They understand to not have it happen again."

"So you just sent here away? Was she pretty? What did she say?"

"She was extremely pretty, young, 19 or 20. Had too much makeup on and a short dress, something similar to what you are wearing." Great. I'm dressed like a hooker. I pulled my dress down a bit, trying to get it to cover more leg. "I had just gotten up to my room, and was getting ready for dinner when she knocked on the door."

"What did she say when you opened it?"

"God, I'd hate to sit through the opera with you. Let me tell the story, or I'll really stretch it out. She said that Jeff - he had been my old host - Jeff had sent her up, and then gave me a look that I think was supposed to be sexy. She then asked if she could come in. I asked her if this is what I thought it was and she didn't answer, just walked past me into the room."

"And?"

"And, we didn't do anything. I told her I appreciated the gesture, but was not interested. I think I made up a relationship I was in or something. It was a few years ago. I asked her if she wanted anything to drink, we talked for a bit, and then she left."

"Really. Just talked. You, who have been pushing the envelope with me since we met, sat in your Vegas hotel room with a 19-year-old girl, had a drink, and talked. Then your gentlemanly self walked her to the door and she left." I crossed my arms, shook my head, and fixed him with a stare. "I'm not buying it."

He laughed and leaned forward, pulling one of my arms until it was free and held my hand. "Why do you have such a low opinion of me?"

"You admit yourself that you are a sex fiend. Why would you pass on it when it is right there for the taking?"

"Because it is right there for the taking. That girl rode up that elevator to my room not knowing anything about me and was ready to have sex with whoever opened the door. There is not a worst turnoff than that. Now you, who are fighting me supposedly tooth and nail, THAT is a big turn on for me." His voice had lowered and he fixed me with a look that he probably thought was sexy. Which it was, deadly, but I wasn't about to admit that.

"Supposedly? I am fighting you tooth and nail, and WILL be victorious. And listen to what you just said. In that line of thought, rape should be right up your alley."

"Don't be ridiculous. You know what I mean. I like the chase."

"Is that the only reason I'm sitting here? Because I'm an intern in your firm, therefore off limits? And because I said no when you initially asked me to lunch?"

"You're taking this personally. I invited you here because I enjoy spending time with you. You challenge me and make me laugh. And because every time I see you walk by I want to rip your clothes off and put my hands on you." He finished the sentence in almost a growl. My eyes widened and I felt myself get weak despite my resolve to keep him at bay.

"So you didn't have sex with her."

He laughed and lifted his head, catching the waiter's eye. The man scurried over with the bill, which Brad signed. He took a final sip of champagne, and nodded at me. "Let's go."

We walked out to the big double doors of the casino floor, me holding tight to Brad's arm, balancing carefully on Becca's shoes. The casino assaulted our senses as we entered - mechanical sounds of coins clinking, colors and lights everywhere, and a musical chime of voices talking and laughing. The faint smell of smoke was in the air, and we had to move slowly, crowds of people everywhere. I gripped Brad's arm tightly, giving it a quick squeeze, and he looked down at me and smiled, then leaned over and kissed the top of my fhead. He slowed a bit as we passed the blackjack table, his eyes lingering and I pushed him on, laughing. We finally made it through the casino and lobby, the exit doors opened for us by two white-gloved doormen who beamed at us.

"Mr. De Luca, your car is ready." A suited man appeared at Brad's side, and held out his arm, indicating our limo. It looked just like the one that had brought us from the airport, and then I saw the familiar face of the driver, whose name I couldn't remember.

"Leonard," Brad said, shaking his hand.

"Got the car all ready for you. We going to New York New York?"

"Let's talk in the car. I need to check with the boss." Leonard grinned broadly and winked at me, holding open a door.

"Ms. Campbell, you look beautiful."

"Thank you Leonard. Good to see you again."

Once we were both in the car, Brad turned to me. "In the restaurant you had mentioned staying in. If you don't want to go out, we can do something tamer. Leonard can just give us a tour of the Strip and come back."

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