“Sounds good to me.” I nodded my head. “After we check in, we can head down there.”
“I’ll have the concierges make you a reservation,” Andre said.
“Perfect. Thank you,” I responded.
Andre pulled up at Aria and took us to the Sky Suites entrance.
Inside, the staff greeted Dylan and me by name, handed over keys, and kept it professional. Andre called the concierge desk to make our restaurant reservations, which gave us about an hour to get ready for the evening, and then the front desk clerk pointed us toward a private elevator. Once the doors slid shut, I finally took a real breath.
Faye let out a slow exhale. “I forgot what it feels like to walk through a place and not have people staring at me.”
Dylan kept his gaze forward, but his shoulders loosened a little. “Sky Suites was a good call.”
“Marcos loves a good call,” I joked. “He’s going to text us later and ask if we noticed the fancy soap.”
Faye’s mouth twitched. “I’m taking the fancy soap.”
Dylan’s lips curved. “You steal hotel soap?”
“It’s not stealing,” she argued. “They are complimentary.”
I glanced at her cap. “Are you going to keep wearing that, or are you done trying to hide?”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not trying to hide. I’m trying not to give people an easy picture.”
Dylan’s eyes slid to me. “Don’t push.”
“I’m not pushing,” I insisted. “I’m commenting.”
Faye stared at me. “You’re annoying.”
“And yet you flew to Vegas to see me.” I smirked.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” She laughed.
The elevator opened onto a quiet hallway, and a minute later, we were inside the suite. The place was huge. The living roomfeatured an oversized sectional facing a wall-mounted TV and a low table that looked too nice for two rookies who lived out of suitcases. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up most of the far wall with a view of the Strip.
Off to the side was a wet bar and a small kitchenette with a wide stone island, a sink, and a fridge.
Faye took off her cap and tossed it onto the entry table, then dragged her fingers through her blonde hair. “Okay. I’m gross.”
Dylan’s mouth curved, his eyes sliding over her like he was already imagining steam and wet skin. “We could shower and fix that.”
“Then follow me,” she sassed.
The suite’s main bathroom was a sanctuary in white marble and gleaming chrome. Faye led the way, her steps purposeful, and Dylan and I followed.
After she turned on the shower, I stepped closer to her. My fingers brushed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. Her breath hitched as I traced the warm skin along her jawline.
“God, I’ve missed this,” she whispered as her eyes fluttered closed.
Dylan moved behind her, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her back against him. He pressed a soft kiss to her neck, and she shivered. “We all have,” he murmured.
I leaned in, my lips capturing hers in a gentle kiss that deepened quickly. Her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer, and my dick stiffened.
Her chest heaving, Faye broke the kiss and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Dylan’s hands slid up her stomach, cupped her breasts, and she arched into his touch. My heart pounded as I watched him slowly unhook her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her nipples hardened under his thumbs, and she let out a soft moan.
I stepped back, my eyes roaming over her body, taking in every curve and line. She was breathtaking, and the way she looked at me, with such desire and trust, made my heart ache. I reached for my own shirt, pulling it off, and Dylan did the same, his eyes never leaving Faye.
