Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 107803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
"We can," he says, "but how about we go out somewhere instead?"
"Where?"
"Wherever you want to go." He finishes what he's doing as his phone starts ringing. He pulls it out, barely glancing at the screen before answering stoically, the conversation short and full of nothing more than 'yes' and 'no's. Hanging up, he slips it back away and turns to me. "I need to run an errand… won't take more than a few minutes. Why don't you shower and change, and we'll hit the city?"
"Okay," I say, glancing around the room, my eyes falling on the garment bag. "Should I wear the dress?"
"No, save that for tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
My question prompts him to smile as he steps toward me, cupping my cheek, brushing his thumb across my lips. "Why don't we focus on tonight before you start worrying about tomorrow? We waste too much time looking for the next thing and not appreciating what we have right now… and right now, what we have, is endless opportunities. The sky isn't the limit in my world, Karissa. There is no limit. You want it? You got it. Whatever it is."
"Anything?"
"Anything," he swears. "Just name it."
"A bacon cheeseburger."
He laughs. "A bacon cheeseburger?"
"Yes."
"Okay then." Leaning forward, he kisses me before turning away. "Shower, and we'll hit the town for bacon cheeseburgers."
Naz leaves, and I scour through my bag, cringing. Had I known we were going to Vegas, I would've borrowed some of Melody's clothes. I end up settling for black pants and a pink top, nothing unusual for me, but at least it isn't jeans.
I head into the bathroom and strip out of my clothes, turning the shower on warm. I step into the glass box, letting out a deep sigh of contentment. Water blasts me from all angles, the pulsing spray feeling like a massage.
I lather up from head-to-toe with the sweetest smelling soap. Closing my eyes, I stand there, letting the water cascade around me as it rinses away the bubbles, steam building up and fogging the glass. After a minute I reopen my eyes and glance around, freezing when I catch sight of something down on the landing.
Naz is standing there, staring up at me.
A shiver ripples down my spine. I can feel his gaze. I probably should be unnerved by the fact that he's watching me, but I feel a tinge of excitement. Maybe I do like the idea of being caught.
Hesitating, contemplating, I step closer to the glass wall and peer down at him as I run my hands up my stomach and to my chest, palming my breasts. A smile slowly spreads across Naz's face as he shakes his head and walks away.
I turn back to the water and finish my shower, stepping out when I'm squeaky clean. I get ready, putting on my clothes and adding a dash of makeup, doing my best to fix my hair, when I hear movement on the floor below again. Naz returns, stepping into the bathroom as I apply lip-gloss in the mirror. He strolls over, pausing behind me, his hand on my hip as he leans down and kisses my neck. "You're a vixen."
"And you're a voyeur."
He laughs. "Guilty."
He's already ready, of course, not needing to change, looking and smelling just as fresh as he had when he picked me up from the dorms. I don't know how the man does it, always looking as put together as a work of art. I slip on my shoes and take his hand as he leads me from the suite.
A man stands outside our door. Naz nods as we stride by but says nothing. I glance at him curiously, even more surprised to have another waiting by the elevators for us. The man presses the button and the door automatically opens. Without having to utter a word, the man steps onto the elevator with us and presses the button for the ground floor. As soon as we reach it, Naz nods again.
We start to walk away, heading into the bustling casino, when I turn to Naz. "It's kind of weird how they cater to you."
He looks amused by my assessment. "Their service is top-notch. Anything you ask for, they'll make it happen."
"Anything?"
"Yes, anything," he says. "Even bacon cheeseburgers."
He takes me straight to a restaurant… an upscale world-renowned sort of place with a name I can't pronounce run by a man with an accent I assume to be French. All it takes is Naz saying his last name, Vitale, and we're taken right inside, led straight to a small empty table in the back, just as a waiter descends upon it, carrying plates of food. My brow furrows as I slide into the seat Naz pulls out, stunned when a burger is set in front of me.
I gape at Naz when he settles into his seat, a plate identical to my own in front of him. "You called ahead?"
"I mentioned to the concierge that you wanted a bacon cheeseburger," he replies, "so he made it happen."
It's unfathomable to me, being waited on hand-and-foot, but I say nothing as the waiter brings us drinks—the non-alcoholic kind.
I pick up the burger to take a bite. It's got a peculiar flavor to it, bitter like balsamic vinegar, and is topped with some kind of green that reminds me of spinach. I chew the bite slowly as I pull off the top bun and scrape off all the leafy shit. My gaze shifts around the table as I frown.
"What's wrong?" Naz asks. I meet his gaze, seeing he's watching me as he takes a bite. He seems to like it, considering he takes a second bite right away.
"There's no ketchup on the table."
"There usually isn't in a place like this."
"This is why I like places not like this," I mutter, "because they have ketchup on the table."
He motions for the waiter, who makes his way over to us. Naz tells him to bring us some ketchup and the man nods, scurrying off to return a moment later with a little dipping bowl filled with what I guess they assume to be ketchup, but it looks a hell of a lot like stewed tomatoes with how chunky it is. I dip my finger in to taste it, cringing. There's that balsamic vinegar flavor again.