ACE:Las Vegas Bad Boys(28)

She is dressed less risqué than the gyrating women around us; she has on a nice black dress, but wears a big smile.

And she ‘ Emmy's friend.

“I'm Claire. Your assistant told us to meet you here. Are we in the right place?”

“Of course we are!” Behind Claire is Tess, the girl who looks like she's never heard the words trying too hard. “Hey Ace, thanks for the invite. That was totes nice of you.”

I look behind them, hoping to see Emmy. She is nowhere to be found.

“Of course,” I say, keeping it cool. “Glad you could come.” Not asking what I really want. I invited them here to keep the game of cat and mouse going with Emmy. I don't think my ego can handle her running without first giving me a chance to catch her.

Landon begins pouring the girls drinks, and my jaw clenches. My heart pounds. I want to ask. I know I can't.

Thankfully, Tess is my motherfucking savior.

“So, Emmy's on her way.” Tess's words are as bubbly as the champagne she is drinking. “She just got a voicemail from the doctor at the hospital where her sister is. She knew it would be too loud in here. She'll meet us in a sec.”

“Her sister is in the hospital?” I ask, leaning forward.

“Well, yeah. I mean, that's the only reason she's here in Vegas,” Claire says in a non-nonsense way.

“Is her sister alright?” Landon asks, finding a seat next to Tess. I can already tell he'll be into her. She’s moldable, the exact sort of woman he prefers.

“Not really,” Claire says. “Her sister is in a coma. I mean, all you'd need to do is ask her three questions about herself and you'd know that.”

Rubbing my jaw with the back of my hand, I realize I've only focused on one thing when it came to Emmy: her perfect pussy.

“Oh, there she is,” Tess says pointing through the crowd.

Landon, McQueen, and I all turn to look, and so do half of the men in the club.

Emmy would be a knockout in anything. But in this skintight, wine-colored dress she is everything. She's been poured into that fabric, and I want to drink her up as she comes toward me.

“Fuck, your girl is looking fly,” McQueen says.

Claire gives me a hard look, her eyes flicking back to Emmy. She's trying to piece things together, and I can tell that Emmy has kept her cards close. I fucking love that about her. I don't need some woman who can't keep things behind closed doors.

As Emmy walks up to me, giving me a cool once-over, it's clear she didn't tell her friends much of anything.

“Emmy.” I stand so I can stop her from sitting down. I don't want to talk to her here with everyone listening and watching.

I want her in ways no one else can see.

“Everything okay?” Landon asks, his English accent making him sound more sincere than I would sound if I posed the same question.

“It's fine.” Emmy shakes her head, giving Claire and Tess hard looks of annoyance. I love that Emmy has worn minimal make-up, her hair is loose and hanging around her shoulders. I smile, noticing the tips are still wet, as if she literally stepped out of a shower and came out tonight.

The other women here are nothing like her. Everything about them is forced. Emmy isn't trying to make an impression. She’s just herself. And that is more than enough.

“Really?” Claire asks. “Is everything honestly okay?”

“Yeah,” Emmy says, brushing her off, accepting the flute of champagne McQueen hands her. The women on our periphery look Emmy up and down, see her as competition.

She isn't their competition. This woman has already fucking won.

Now if I could just make that clear to her.

“The voicemail from the doctor was from hours ago, when we were at dinner. I just hadn't checked my phone.”

Claire and Tess give her sympathetic nods and drop it. In those simple looks, though, it is clear these girls are important to Emmy. She trusts them.

I won't let my boys hurt them.

On my phone I send a quick text to McQueen, Landon and Jack.

Me: Don't fuck with Emmy's girls. I mean it. Okay?

I watch as McQueen and Landon look down at their phones, type quick responses.

McQueen: Got it, boss-man.

Landon: We’ll behave.

Knowing that’s dealt with, I take Emmy by the hand, and pull her up. The music is loud, the drinks are being poured, and I'm ready to fucking put my hands all over this woman.

And never let her go.





EMMY


So in the past twenty-four hours I've seen Ace act like a confident prick in the hallway, a reckless lover in the bedroom, and a dominating ass in the elevator.

And now, on the dance floor, I see him as a hungry, desperate man. A man who wants something that he's scared he won't get.

Scared he won't get me.

I swear those fucking eyes are going to be my demise.