Aced (28 page)

“And you’ve been there, right?”

When Paige didn’t respond right away, I thought the call dropped, but then she said, “Could you hear that? How
hard
I was just rolling my eyes at you? Yes, I’ve fucking been there. Quite a few times, actually. Like I’d send you off to the wolves without checking things out myself first.”

I quickly signed the bottom of the agreement and then shoved the papers back inside the envelope. “All right, signed, sealed, and let’s hope this place delivers.”

“Oh, it’ll deliver. You boys have fun in Vegas.”

After tucking the phone back into my pocket, I looked out the darkly tinted window to see the high rise of Syn rising up before us, and I smiled to myself. I couldn’t wait to blow Dylan’s mind.
 

* * *

I FINISHED OFF my glass of chilled white wine just as the car began to move across the hangar toward the exit. The skyline of the Las Vegas Strip sparkled like gemstones under the sun’s glare, set off by the mountains in the distance. It was surreal to be staring out of a
fucking Maybach back window
as we sped toward the casinos I’d only ever seen in movies.
 

Taking out my phone, like a total tourist, I snapped photos of every casino we passed.

“This is so fucking cool,” I said, when traffic slowed down in front of the Bellagio long enough for me to see the jets of water spraying high into the sky in unison, waving left and then right, and then shooting straight up like a cannon to the sky.
 

I was so curious where we were going, and when we finally turned into what was labeled “Private Entrance,” I looked up to see a towering curved structure practically dripping in gold and diamonds.
 

“Syn? We’re staying at Syn?” I had to say it out loud to believe it, and as we passed by what looked like the main entrance, the grounds became lush and green, with palm trees lining the private drive. And as we came to a stop in front of a brilliant white building with an arched entrance lined with gold, I had to physically pick my jaw up off the floor.
 

Timothy was opening my door in a flash, and I was so busy staring up at the monstrosity before me that I stumbled getting out of the car.
 

“Good evening, Mr. Prescott, and welcome to Syn,” a gentleman with a head full of slicked-back black hair, and dressed in a finely pressed grey suit, said as he approached from the building’s entrance. “I’m Charles Toth, the assistant manager of Syn, and as one of our special guests, I’d be delighted to show you to your suite. May I take your bag?”

Fuck…me.
Was he serious? This guy was going to walk me to my room and wanted to carry my shit? I suddenly felt grubby in my jeans and t-shirt, and wished I’d known to wear something a bit more appropriate for a place so fancy. Then again, Ace was wearing almost the same thing, so maybe it didn’t matter what you wore if you had the money to pad your pockets.
 

“Uh…thank you, and, um, I’ll carry it,” I said, and shrugged the small bag I’d brought up my arm. I followed him up the pebbled entryway and then turned to throw a wave over my shoulder and call out, “Thanks for the ride, Timothy.”
 

Oh shit, wait. Was I supposed to tip him? Or the manager? Fuck fuck fuck, I only had cards on me, not cash, but maybe this place had an ATM that I could get some change out of—

And that was when I slapped myself, because of course they had a fucking ATM—they were a casino, for Christ’s sake. Plus, Ace would’ve taken care of everything, tip included, right? Right.
 

Okay, stop stressing and get it together, Prescott. Pretend like you belong here. Fake that shit till you make that shit.

I took a deep breath of the invigorating, perfumed air and followed Charles past the private lobby to a set of elevators. He inserted a keycard and when the doors opened immediately, he gestured for me to step inside.

21

DOROTHY IN OZ

THE ENTIRE ASCENT I stood with my ass glued to the back of the elevator as Charles stood by the mirrored door with his hands clasped behind his back. I was trying my hardest not to look like I was freaking out, but honestly, if I could’ve jumped up and down like a kid on Christmas morning right then, I just might have.
 

From the minute Ace had shown up on my doorstep he’d swept me off my feet, and with each surprise he’d thrown my way, he’d kept me guessing. And maybe that was the plan: keep me flying high, and that way I had to learn to trust him. I had to let him lead and believe that he would show me where I could safely land.
 

“Is this your first time in Las Vegas, Mr. Prescott?”

As Charles’s voice broke through my musings, I smiled at his reflection in the doors and nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

Charles flashed a smile at me.
 

“You have that…”
 

He seemed stuck, searching for a specific word, so I suggested, “Shocked-shitless look?” and he laughed.

“Yes,” he said. “That. But also an appreciative look.”

I looked around the gilded interior of the elevator and to the mirrored ceiling then back at Charles’s reflection. “Ahh…yeah. How could you not appreciate this?”

“You’d be surprised.”

The elevator came to a stop, and as the doors parted he gestured for me to step out first. I walked out and waited to see where he would take me, and when he made a left I followed him down the low-lit hallway. Every few feet there were wall sconces that set a private, intimate mood, until we passed by a long wall of mirrors that were waist height.
 

Oh. My. God.
 

My breath caught in my throat at the reflection in them, and I quickly turned to look out the sky walkway we were now walking along and came to an abrupt halt. Because the opposite side of the wall was now made up of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Strip.

“Woah,” I said as I took a step closer, and heard Charles chuckle.
 

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

I looked over at him, knowing I had to look as shocked as I felt, because really, how much more could I take? I was just an average man. An average man, who’d grown up with simple parents, relatively speaking. And now here I was standing in a place that was fit for…for…well, Ace Locke, apparently.

Wow.
“Pretty sure
that’s
an understatement.”

“Wait until you see the view from your room. Follow me,” he said, and I was lucky I was able to still move my legs.

When we were off the skywalk, he stopped in front of a large door and inserted the key, then he held it open for me and I walked inside the most impressive suite I’d ever set foot in.
 

Directly underfoot was marble so shiny I could see my reflection, and the lighting in the room matched that of the hallway. It was muted and soft, lending an intimate feel to the place.

“Okay, Mr. Prescott. This is where I leave you. I’ll put your keycard here on the entrance table, and should you have any questions or concerns, just pick up the phone and dial star nine. That will connect you directly with my office.”

I blinked several times and shoved my hands in my pockets, at a loss for something to say. I felt like Dorothy must’ve felt when she landed in Oz—completely out of my element.

Charles walked past me to the door, and as I turned to watch him go, he said, “Enjoy your stay at Syn, Mr. Prescott.”

Then he shut the door behind him.

As silence settled over the room, I slowly turned back around and was once again floored by the space that stretched out before me. I made my way into the room to see a door off to my right, which I went and poked my head inside and spotted a large soaking tub, and a shower the size of my apartment back home. Then I continued farther into the room where it spread out before me to encompass a comfortable seating area facing a strip of windows on the far wall, and a monstrous bed with a headboard that extended the entire way up the wall to the ceiling. It was insane.
 

This whole
place
was insane.
 

I was about to head over to the window to get a better look at the view, when the phone over by the couch started to ring. I raced to it and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“I see you made it in one piece.”

As Ace’s voice came through the line, a huge grin curved my mouth. “Umm…barely. I swear my heart can’t take much more of this, Ace. It just might give out if you plan to spring anything else on me.”

He laughed, and I wished I could see his face in that moment to enjoy his happiness.
 

“I sure hope that isn’t the truth.”

“Uh uh. You better not have anything else planned. This is way too much already.”

“Dylan?” Ace said, and there was something new in his tone. Something extra sure about the way he was talking to me, which had me nervously biting my lower lip.
 

“Yeah?”

“See the door over by your bedside table?”

I spun around on my heel and right there, exactly where Ace said it was, as though he were standing beside me, was a door the same color as the wall. The only reason you knew it was, in fact, a door was because of the dark handle and lock attached to it.

“Yes, I see it,” I told him, and walked over to the door, which I somehow knew he was standing on the other side of.

“Unlock it, Dylan. Now.”

Hell yes.
That new authority Ace was throwing around had my cock throbbing and my palms sweating. And as I reached out to unlock the door, I wondered where exactly this afternoon and evening were going to end.

* * *

AS SOON AS I’d been left alone, I’d put the envelope on the coffee table, and then waited until Charles had called to let me know Dylan had arrived safely. Syn had a magnificent presidential suite that was situated on the far side of the building and, luckily enough, attached to the suite beside it, and as soon as I’d been given the go-ahead, I was on the phone demanding Dylan open his door.

I wasn’t sure where this self-confidence I was feeling was coming from, but ever since Dylan’s eyes had lit up when I’d given him those flowers at his house, I’d had this insane desire to be the one in control of every ounce of pleasure he experienced this weekend. I’d also noticed the way Dylan’s breath quickened and his cheeks flushed every time I issued a new order, and I wasn’t about to let that reaction go to waste.
 

Hell fucking no.
 

I was going to take full advantage of the fact that Dylan Prescott couldn’t seem to control himself when it came to me—no more than I could when it came to him, anyway.

“Unlock it, Dylan. Now,” I said through the phone, needing to see him even though it had been less than forty-five minutes since I’d left him at the airport.

“Why? Do you miss me?”

Brash bastard
, I thought as I rested my head on the door and grinned.
 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? Well then, you won’t want to know that you demanding I open my door for you got me hard as a fucking rock.”

“Dylan, open the goddamn door,” I practically growled, and then the click of the lock sounded and the door handle turned, and Dylan was right there standing in front of me with the phone still to his ear.

“Now what?” he asked, and let his eyes trail down over me where I stood. Uncaring of the phone I still held, I tossed it on the sofa by my side of the adjoining door and stalked through to his room. Dylan didn’t step back; he merely lowered his arm as I took his face between my hands and brought my lips down on top of his, and sweet Lord, it felt as though I hadn’t kissed him in years.

The phone he’d been holding thunked to the floor by our feet as his hands went to my waist. I could feel his fingers slip under the material of the jacket I had changed into, and as he tugged me closer, drawing me farther into his room, our tongues dueled in the sweetest of fights.

A soft groan met my ears as I angled my head to the side and dove in deeper, and when one of Dylan’s hands slipped down to my ass, I was close to saying
fuck it
to the Sapphire event, stripping Dylan down to nothing, and stretching him out on the enormous bed beside us.

But then I remembered the main reason I’d brought him here tonight. It wasn’t just to whisk him away. No, I could’ve done that anytime and anywhere. Tonight was about giving Dylan something…special. And that meant putting a stop to the tease who was now grinding his hips in a delicious rhythm against mine.

“Dylan?”

“Mhmm,” he said against my jaw as he kissed his way along it up to my ear where,
hell
, he sucked on my lobe.

“Don’t you want to see my room?” I asked as I slowly pulled away from him, only to have Dylan hook his fingers into my waistband and draw me back.

“Your room? I don’t know… I was rather hoping to see the ceiling of mine.”

Oh fuck.
Dylan was close to impossible to resist right then with his swollen lips and heavy eyes, but resist him I would. “Seriously. I have something to give you and then I have to leave for a couple of hours—”

“What? Why?”

Well, that got his attention.
And I was conceited enough to be pleased he looked so horrified by the thought. I took his hand, about to guide him through the adjoining door, and said, “Just a small product launch Roger is forcing me to attend, and while I’m gone I have a task for you.”

As I tugged on his hand, ready to lead him into my room, Dylan dug his heels in and said, “A task? What kind of task?”

And right then, I knew I had him. “Come with me, and you’ll find out.”

* * *

AS ACE LED me into his adjoining room, every coherent thought left my brain, because holy
shit
, it wasn’t a room or even a suite. No, it was the biggest two-story apartment I’d ever seen. The entire curved wall I faced was floor-to-ceiling windows, with thick curtains off to the side should you ever want to cover that view.
But who in God’s name would do something so stupid?
I thought, as I took in the view of the Strip gleaming out in front of us from where we stood on the top floor of Syn.