I sighed again, rubbing the back of my neck. “How about a raincheck?” I asked, hoping that would buy me a reprieve at least. I shrugged off my suit jacket and removed my tie, hanging both over the back of a chair. “I really just need to unwind tonight, Marcus.”
He laughed. “That’s the whole point, big brother. You do need to unwind. Live a little. Indulge yourself. Let yourself finally get a taste of what you really want for once.”
I frowned. What Ireallywanted? Why did he think he knew what that was, when I didn’t? “I don’t think—” I started.
“You won’t even have to leave your room,” he said quickly, cutting me off. “I promise. And just remember, we’re in Vegas, so it’s legal here.”
Well,thatwasn’t concerning at all.
“Marcus...” I said, stalking over to the welcome basket with a distinct feeling of foreboding.
“I can’t hear you,” he sing-songed, lying like a rug again as I started picking through the basket.
Standard luxury food items, top-shelf alcohol, a few useless trinkets and gift items… no illicit drugs, at least. It looked like something a hotel concierge would have put together, not something that would make my baby brother sound like the cat who’d just swallowed the canary. In other words, there was no way this was the “party favor” he was acting so gleeful about.
Thatwas still looming.
I left the basket, turning to survey the suite again. There was nothing else in it other than the standard furnishings, as far as I could see.
“Okay, what did you do?” I growled, snatching my phone up and taking it off speaker to make sure Marcus didn’t miss a word. “What exactly is this ‘party favor’ I’m supposed to get, and—” I clenched my jaw, then forced it to relax, “—exactly how much is it going to disrupt my night?”
Hell. This was Vegas, a.k.a. Sin City, so the answer to that could easily be “a lot”... which was confirmed when Marcus answered with what I’d swear in court, even without being able to see him, was a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You mean h—the party favor isn’t waiting in your room yet? I’ll definitely have to file a complaint about timely delivery with the, uh, service.”
Right on cue, a quiet knock sounded at the door.
“Sounds like it just arrived,” I told him, pinching the bridge of my nose hard enough to make my eyes water. “Please plan on me killing you tomorrow.”
“I think you mean thanking me,” Marcus said with another snicker. “And you’re welcome, big brother.”
He sounded so damn happy with himself that I couldn’t help my lips quirking up with amusement as he quickly ended the call. Marcus may have been a grown-ass adult now, but he was still and always would be the epitome of an annoying little brother… and also the closest thing I had to a best friend. I couldn’t stay mad at him even if I tried, and we both knew it. Then I frowned. I hadn’t been lying about being exhausted, though, so I figured I was still justified in holding onto alittlebit of irritation, at least until after I’d dealt with whatever it was he’d arranged to have delivered to my room.
A second, even more tentative-sounding knock came, and I shook my head, indulging in one more eye roll as I fished out my wallet. The least I could do was to tip well when I refused delivery of whatever crazy thing my brother had mistakenly decided I needed in my life, because the one thing I knew for sure was that no matter how good Marcus’s intentions were, this time, they were definitely misplaced.
I didn’t want anything, I certainly didn’t need anything, and—after that incrediblyunreassuring “don’t worry, it’s legal here in Vegas” comment of his—I wasn’t interested in having anything to do with this “party favor” of his.
Not tonight, and not ever.
No matter what it turned out to be.
2
JACK
I raisedmy hand to knock—athirdtime, jeez, had the guy changed his mind or something?—but then I froze when I realized my hand was actually trembling. Worse, I couldn’t seem to stop it, andthatprobably wouldn’t go over well. Or… or if it did, I wasn’t sure I was up for being with the kind of man who would get off on how terrified I was.
Not that I had much of a choice about that, since I was already here.
I dropped my hand without knocking again and bit my lip, almost sick from the sudden swirl of dread in my stomach. What if the guy tonight—the client, Greg had said to call him—was like Max?
I plucked the too-small shorts Greg had loaned me out of my butt crack (again) and let my eyes dart down the long hallway toward the elevators, because technically, I did have a choice… and as my panic crested, I was really, really tempted to bolt for the exit and make a dumb one.
I hadn’t actually knocked on the doorthatloudly, had I?
I leaned in a little closer, but I didn’t hear anyone coming yet, so the… the client probably hadn’t even heard me, right?
But even if he had, it wasn’t actually that far back to the elevators, so if Ididbolt for it before he opened the door?—
