“Almost there,” Corey called back. “Another ten minutes.”
“Please,” I begged. “Don’t stop. Keep driving.”
Somewhere up front, Mason laughed. “What’s in it for us?”
“I don’t know, something,” I said desperately. “Anything. Just…”
I shifted again, letting out a long, satisfied sigh. Thanks to a quick stop at my hotel, the vibrating beads were no longer inside me. But I was still squirming, still moaning.
“You know I can continue rubbing your feet indoors,” Brody pointed out. “Just saying.”
I blew him a kiss from the other end of the car. “Yes please.”
It was a little crazy, I knew. Driving out into the vast, moonlit desert with three practical strangers. They were men I knew of course, two of them intimately. And yet just a few days ago, I didn’t know any of them at all.
Heather would have a heart attack if she knew. Deanna would probably be calling the police. Bella however, would most likely be cheering me on.
You trust them, a little voice spoke up in the back of my mind. It’s okay.
We had practically no phone service. Virtually nothing to link us to the outside world. In every direction, the windswept landscape was barren and empty. There were no markings. Nothing except a long, dusty road to nowhere.
But in its own way, it was absolutely beautiful. The way the moonlight soaked into everything, giving it an almost spectral glow? Well that part was breathtakingly gorgeous.
Besides, it was my last night here. I wanted to make it memorable.
The ride out was nothing if not educational. I learned all about Mason, because the guys were constantly asking him to tell stories from California. He had some wild ones, everything from inside celebrity gossip to who threw the craziest Hollywood parties. But everything he talked about seemed a few years in the past. There was nothing recent.
“You still making it out there?” Corey had asked him.
“Barely,” Mason had admitted.
“Well you know you can always come back to Vegas with us,” said Brody. “There are plenty of movie stars here, who—”
“Movies stars come to Vegas when their careers wind down,” Mason had countered.
“They retire there. Make a decent living off the name they’ve made for themselves.” He pushed back in his seat, stretching his long legs. “My career hasn’t even peaked yet.”
It was a hard business, I knew. As a publicist for a few celebrities myself, I saw how easily a star could rise or fall. I saw people shoot to the top overnight, enjoying instant fame. But more often than not, I watched them slowly fade into obscurity. Some of them kicking and screaming, clawing for any last semblance of their former glory, as they were eclipsed by younger, more beautiful or handsome rising stars.
Eventually Mason turned off the main highway. He made a series of shadowed turns without the benefit of a single streetlamp, and then pulled into a long, hard-packed driveway.
“Home sweet home.”
The house we pulled up to was almost entirely glass. It had floor to ceiling windows on virtually all sides; a contemporary marvel of sharp angles and steel fixtures that made the silhouette of the building look sharp and deadly.
“You rent the same house every year?” I asked, as the car rolled to a stop.
“Every one,” Brody confirmed.
“And you’ve never brought a woman out here?”
The guys looked at each other, then at Mason.
“Nope,” Corey said, matter-of-factly. “You’re the first one.”
It made sense, I supposed. Three young bachelors getting away from it all. Vegas was an hour away. They could head back into town to pick up women whenever they wanted. All three of them were gorgeous. It would take only minutes, especially with an actual movie star amongst them.
But this was their place. Their time.