Staying in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 1)

“That’s the official story.”

“If he stabs me, he owes me a new coat. This is Burberry.” Without waiting for me to invite her in, she ducks under my arm and creeps right past me.

I sigh, taking a step back as she looks around the foyer.

“Looks the same as I remember it.” She turns around, shooting me a smile that used to ignite desire in my veins. Her heels clack across my marble floor as she takes a few steps backward, toward my armoire. “It’s nice to see some things never change.”

“Just because you can’t see any changes, doesn’t mean nothing changed,” I inform her.

Sobering slightly, she nods her head. “That’s true. I heard about Ben. I’d say I’m sorry, but it looks like you’ve done nothing but benefit. Did you do it?”

I ignore her question and watch as she runs a hand over the knotted wood door of my armoire like it’s a lover she’s trying to seduce. She pulls the door open and peers inside at the various weapons.

A grin splits her face and she looks back at me. “This hasn’t changed.”

“Close it,” I tell her.

My command wipes the grin off her face. She regards me with much less playfulness as she closes the armoire and backs herself up against it. “Yes, master.”

Something sinks in my gut, and it shouldn’t. I’m immune to this bitch now. I’m done with her shit. Have been for a long time.

“What else would you like me to do?” she asks softly, running a hand along the edge of her coat. Her hand leads my gaze to the belt of her trench. I know before she does it what she’s intending, but she’s too fast for me to stop.

The coat falls over her slim shoulders and drops to the ground. She’s wearing only a black lacey bra and matching panties beneath.

This fucking bitch.

I keep my eyes on hers, a look of amused disinterest on my face. It’s the most insulting response I can muster when I have memories creeping into my head of her on her hands and knees, crawling across the floor toward me with lustful eyes, ready to lap the pre-cum off my dick like a hungry kitten.

Kitten.

Laurel flashes to mind. She would never do something like this. Or maybe she would, but in my mind she wouldn’t. If she did show up here, it would be because she actually wanted to see me—not because she’s trying to prostitute herself to buy her father some extra time to come up with money he’s never going to have.

It’s nice that I never really got to know Laurel. I can impose whatever reality on her I want to. Right now I choose sweetness, since the viper standing half-naked in my foyer is anything but sweet.

Cassandra mistakes my silence for a struggle—how hard it must be for me to resist her. God, she’s fucking egotistical. Her ego doesn’t serve her as she crosses the room now with more confidence than she should have and stops in front of me, placing her dainty, manicured hand on my chest.

“Tell me you’ve missed me, Rafe.”

“You don’t deserve that lie, Cassandra.”

Offering up a pretty pout, she does her best to look wounded. “If you want to hurt me, there are more fun ways than with harsh words.” She keeps her hand on my chest, lightly rubbing, but she reaches for my other hand and guides it between her legs.

She tries to, anyway. I know what happens if I get near that dark pit, so I exert just enough strength to halt her before she can.

“Touch me, Rafe. Show me who owns this pussy.”

“I don’t know who owns that pussy,” I tell her. “Furthermore, I don’t care.” I yank my wrist out of her grasp and reach up to dust her hand off my chest like it’s a speck of dirt. “I told your father, now I’ll tell you. I don’t have to pay for pussy, so I’m sure as hell not taking it as payment. And I would pay for pussy before ever getting near yours again. I gave your dad 24 hours when I left his club. Your appearance here after I specifically said I wasn’t interested just lost him two. Now, get dressed and stop embarrassing yourself before you lose him two more.”

Cassandra scowls at me, but makes no move to run over, retrieve her coat, and skitter her ass out of here, which is what I was hoping for.

“I’m not here for him,” she states, like I’ve insulted her. “I can’t believe you think that.”

“What else would I think, Cassandra?

Come on.”

She shakes her head, dropping the façade of bullshit. “You have it all wrong, Rafe. Honest. What’s between you and Daddy is business. I respect that. I’m not here trying to intercede on his behalf.”