“Fuck no,” I whispered, shaking my head, and Max burst out laughing. “She took care of herself, and then left.”
He let out a low whistle and then sighed. “Guess you’ll just have to catch up with her back home and give her some payback.”
Was he serious? He expected me to let her go for the rest of the night—maybe even the rest of the long weekend—after doing something like that?
“Where are they headed?” I asked under my breath.
Max shrugged, scooping some caviar onto a blini from my plate. “Don’t know, actually. Think they leave in the morning, though.”
“Where are they staying?”
“Dunno. Sara took care of all of it.” He seemed so much less concerned with all of this than I was . . . but of course he was. He clearly just got fucked in some room in the back while I only got to watch Chloe masturbate with my hand.
I glanced at the far wall just as Chloe and Sara stepped out from the black hallway, laughing together, arms linked. Max followed my attention and exhaled a deep breath. “Bloody hell they’re lovely.”
“Wonder where they’re headed,” I murmured.
Max looked over at me, already shaking his head as if he’d read my mind. “We’ve got a full night planned, mate.”
“I’m sure we do.”
“And they’re doing their own thing.”
“I’m sure they are.”
He paused, watching as Sara caught his gaze and held it. Something passed from her eyes to his, something heavy and pleading. Behind her, Chloe looked up from where she’d been digging in her purse and saw me. Her lips parted and her hand fluttered up to her chest. In her eyes I could see genuine concern. Maybe even a touch of guilt. “You okay?” she mouthed.
If she felt guilty after her little act, then I was happy. I smirked. “No.”
But any sign of guilt vanished as she smiled wickedly, blowing me a kiss and tugging Sara’s arm. Together, Max and I watched them leave the club through the heavy steel doors we came through on entry.
“Fuck,” Max whispered. “We’re a couple of lucky arseholes.”
I sighed. “Yeah.”
I looked up and met his eyes. I knew he had a night planned, knew our activities were packed. But really, it was Friday night and we were here until Tuesday. Would it really matter if I slipped away for only an hour?
He leaned forward, grabbed my forearm, and started laughing. “Don’t even fucking think about it, Bennett.”
* * *
After the dim, almost cavelike atmosphere of the club, stepping outside was like being hit with a floodlight. Towering hotels crowded the dark sky and even from this distance, we could see the glow of LED and neon signs flashing from every casino on the strip. And Christ, was it loud. The sound of traffic blasted up from the street as we stood in the curved driveway in front of the building and waited for our driver. Cars stopped at the curb across the street, were emptied or loaded up before being driven away again. People of every shape and size shuffled by, horns honked in the distance, a series of sirens blared from a street a few blocks over.
And water everywhere—tinkling water features that filled the valet areas, the crashing sounds of waterfalls from the bigger hotels, and a massive fountain that nearly every tourist tossed coins into as they passed—even here, away from the glitz and glamour of the large casinos.
As if reading my mind, Henry walked over to a three-tiered fountain, peeking inside before skipping a poker chip across the rippling surface. “Who would have thought there’d be so much water in the desert?”
Will walked out behind us, taking off his coat even though it was cold out. “Water is a necessity of life,” he said. “In order for a society to survive they need water to maintain its population. Such a seemingly cavalier and extravagant use of an important resource would illustrate that a community is thriving. A thriving populace makes people feel optimistic; an optimistic tourist spends more money and boosts the economy.” He shrugged, placing a stick of chewing gum into his mouth. “Plus, it’s just fucking pretty, you know?”
Henry gaped at him. “You really are a nerd.”
“Isn’t he, though?” Max said, smiling fondly.
Will lifted his chin toward Henry. “I’m not the one that just tossed a hundred-dollar chip into a fountain because it’s what I’ve been conditioned to do. So thanks for proving my point.”
Henry’s eyes widened and he raced back to the edge of the water. “Son of a bitch.”