3. Dominic
3
Dominic
M y heart is still pounding in my chest like I just ran a fucking marathon. I can’t remember the last time sex made me feel like this. Actually scratch that. I can’t remember sex ever making me feel like this. Is it her? Is it the drug?
I don’t fucking know any more.
“By the way, before we rejoin our friends...” I trail off, running a hand through my hair.
Tatiana looks up at me with those intelligent brown eyes, still hazy with whatever Leo gave us. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, her hair a wild mess. She looks nothing like the perfectly polished assistant who guards Christopher’s office with military precision.
I like this version way better.
“Yes?” She asks, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Are you always that... responsive?”
She blushes. Even with drugs flooding her system, she still has the capacity for embarrassment. It’s oddly endearing.
“No,” she admits. “Never like that.”
Pride surges through me. “Must be my superior technique.”
She rolls her eyes but laughs. “Or the drugs.”
“Definitely my technique,” I insist, pressing a kiss to her neck. “Want me to prove it again?”
Her neck tastes so fucking good. The drug is still working its magic. Everything feels electric, heightened. Colors are more vibrant, sounds more immediate. And Tatiana. God. Every curve of her body seems designed specifically to drive me insane.
“We should probably rejoin our friends,” she says, but makes no move to leave.
I should let her go. One bathroom quickie is risky enough. But I can’t help myself. I pull her against me again, capturing her mouth with mine. She melts into me instantly, her arms wrapping around my neck.
A loud bang on the door makes us jump apart.
“Hey lovebirds,” Leo’s voice calls again from the other side, more urgently this time. “Either come out or we’re coming in. Marco’s getting antsy.”
Right. Marco. The whole reason we’re in Vegas. His wedding tomorrow.
We straighten ourselves as best we can and step back into the cabana. I’m not surprised to see Leo with his arm around Sabrina, who looks just as disheveled as Tatiana. Amara and Sam are in a similar state, locked in a whispered conversation in the corner.
What does surprise me is Marco leaning dangerously close to the small one, what’s her name again? Jess, that’s it. His hand is on her knee.
Fuck.
“Marco,” I call out, perhaps more sharply than intended. “We should head back to the hotel. Big day tomorrow.”
Marco glances up, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “It’s still early.”
“Exactly,” I say, moving toward him. “Which means there’s plenty of time for you to fuck up your marriage before it even starts.”
That gets his attention. He straightens, looking guilty. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”
“Sure you weren’t,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here before your good intentions go to shit.”
Leo groans. “Come on Dom. We’re just getting started.” He turns his gaze back to Sabrina.
I shrug. “You’re the one who just interrupted me in the bathroom, remember?”
“Dom is right,” Tatiana interjects, “we should change. The pool’s closing soon anyway.”
It’s not true, but I shoot her a grateful look. She gets it. Marco needs to be removed from temptation.
“Fine,” Leo concedes. “But the night is young. Let’s hit the Strip.”
That seems like a safer option. Walking around might help clear our heads a bit.
Thirty minutes later, we’ve all changed and regrouped in the hotel lobby. I’m wearing a suit with no tie, the top buttons of my shirt undone because the fabric feels too restrictive against my skin. Tatiana has transformed into an alluring temptress in tight jean shorts that show off her incredible legs and a red tank top that hugs her every curve.
“You look amazing,” I tell her as she joins me.
“So do you,” she replies, her eyes raking over me appreciatively. “Very billionaire bad boy.”
I laugh. “Is that my type?”
“Oh yes,” she quips, giggling as she drapes a drunken arm around my neck.
I prop her up with my shoulder and take her hand without thinking, and she laces her fingers through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It should feel strange. I don’t do hand-holding. I don’t do public displays of affection. But with her, with this drug still racing through my veins, it feels so right.
Jake and Ricardo, my security detail, follow at a discreet distance as our merged group spills onto the Strip. The lights of Vegas shimmer and pulse around us like a technicolor dreamscape. Tatiana gasps as we pass the Bellagio fountains, their waters dancing in perfect synchronicity.
“And I thought it was beautiful sober ,” she whispers.
I laugh.
As we continue, without warning I pull her against the outdoor wall of the Cosmopolitan and kiss her deeply. Her body molds to mine instantly, her lips parting to allow my tongue entry. I can taste the sweet remnants of her cocktail, feel the softness of her skin beneath my fingers.
“Get a room,” Sam shouts, laughing.
I break the kiss, both of us breathing hard. Tatiana’s eyes are dark with desire, her cheeks flushed.
“You guys should just get married,” Leo announces, slinging his arms around both our shoulders. “You’re clearly made for each other.”
The words hang in the air between us. I wait for the panic, for my usual visceral reaction to any mention of commitment.
It doesn’t come.
Instead, a strange clarity washes over me. Of course we should get married. It makes perfect sense. Tatiana is gorgeous, intelligent, and just gave me the best sex of my life.
What more could I want?
“Wanna?” I ask her, the word slipping out before I can stop it.
She giggles, the sound light and uninhibited. “Why not? When in Vegas...”
Leo whoops with delight. “Holy shit, you guys serious?”
“Deadly,” I reply, and kiss Tatiana again.
“They’re actually getting married!” Leo shouts at the passersby. “Holy fucking shit! Vegas baby!”
I glance at my watch and the reality of the logistics slam into me. “Fuck. The Clark County Marriage License Bureau closes soon.”
“What time is it?” Tatiana asks.
“We have only half an hour,” I reply, the disappointment rising. It would have been the perfect cap to a perfect day. “We’ll never make it.”
“Not with that attitude,” Leo declares.
I pull out my phone. “Ricardo! We need your driving skills!”
Ricardo, ever the professional, comes on the line. “What do you need, sir?”
“Have to get to the marriage bureau before it closes,” I explain, suddenly desperate. “It’s an emergency. Life or death.”
“I can get you there,” Ricardo assures me, and hangs up.
Jake, my head of security, gives me a look that clearly questions my sobriety but says nothing.
The limousine I’d arranged to have on standby pulls up a few minutes later.
We pile in, a tangle of limbs and laughter. Tatiana lands on my lap, her body warm against mine.
“Are we really doing this?” she asks, her voice both excited and uncertain.
“Why the hell not?” I reply, feeling reckless and alive. “Unless you don’t want to.”
She studies my face for a long moment. “No, I want to. It’s crazy but... I want to.” Her eyes darken suddenly. “I was almost... I mean before, two years ago, I was...”
I look at her, confused. “You were what?”
She shakes her head, eyes returning to normal. Well, as normal as they can be amidst the drug-and-alcohol induced haze. “Nothing. Never mind!” She plants a big wet kiss on my lips that makes me forget what we were just talking about.
The limo tears through the streets of Vegas, Ricardo weaving through traffic with surgical precision. Jake murmurs something into his radio, probably alerting the rest of the security team to our insane plans.
I should be worried about what her boss, my best friend Christopher, will say. Or my family. Or my board. Or the investors in my new resort project. But all I can think about is Tatiana’s smile, the way her body feels against mine, the strange rightness of her lips against mine.
“We’re here,” Ricardo announces as the limo screeches to a halt.
I check my watch again. Five minutes to spare.
“Run,” I tell Tatiana, grabbing her hand.
We sprint toward the entrance, my security team clearing a path. Behind us, our friends cheer us on like we’re finishing a marathon.
“We made it,” Tatiana gasps as we burst through the doors.
The clerk behind the counter looks up, clearly unimpressed by our dramatic entrance.
“Marriage license?” she asks, already reaching for the forms.
“Yes,” we answer in unison.
As she slides the paperwork toward us, I catch Tatiana’s eye. She’s glowing, radiant with excitement and drugs and maybe something else.
Either this is the best idea I’ve ever had.
Or the biggest mistake of my life.
Right now, I couldn’t care less which one it is.