3. Sabrina
3
Sabrina
“ S o,” Leo says softly, barely above the background thrum. “Tell me about Sabrina Taylor when she’s not managing crises.”
“She’s usually trying to avoid creating new ones,” I quip, trying to keep it light. I can’t help but glancing at his lips again.
Oh god. He’s so close.
Don’t kiss him. Don’t kiss him.
“But today?” he presses gently. “Today’s different. Right?”
It is different. I feel reckless, untethered. Maybe it’s the fake GHB placebo effect, maybe it’s just Vegas.
Before I can answer, before I can think, he leans in and his mouth covers mine. It’s sudden, surprising, and sends a shockwave straight through me. That complex scent of his wraps around me. His lips are firm, insistent, tasting of tequila and mint and something uniquely Leo.
My hands instinctively fly up to his chest, pushing slightly in surprise before… relaxing. Melting .
Oh, hell. This is what trouble tastes like.
And it’s delicious.
He deepens the kiss, one hand sliding around my waist, pulling me flush against him. The other tangles in my hair, tilting my head back.
My mind goes blissfully blank, all anxieties and warnings drowned out by the sheer, unexpected pleasure of his mouth on mine. He groans softly, a low rumble in his chest that vibrates against my palms.
We stay like that for who knows how long, lost in our own little bubble amid the cabana.
I finally pull away, convinced he’s doing this only because of the GHB. Still, I’m breathless, and so is he. His green eyes are dark, pupils dilated, mirroring the haze I feel descending over my own senses (placebo or not).
My lips feel swollen, my hair is definitely a mess, and my carefully constructed composure is shot to hell.
I glance across the cabana. Sam and Amara are huddled close on a separate couch, murmuring quietly. Jess meanwhile seems to be trying to teach Marco some kind of TikTok dance, much to his confusion.
And Rossi and Tatiana… wait, where did Rossi and Tatiana go?
My eyes scan the cabana. They were just… oh . The door to the private bathroom at the back of the cabana clicks shut.
No. They didn’t.
My jaw drops slightly. Tatiana? Buttoned-up, hyper-organized, ‘I alphabetize protein bars’ Tatiana?
It’s the GHB, of course.
Leo follows my gaze towards the bathroom door, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. “Looks like Dom’s made a strategic withdrawal.”
“Strategic withdrawal?” I echo faintly. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
More like a hostile takeover of common sense.
“Guess the chemistry was… explosive,” Leo shrugs, his attention never leaving me.
Is this normal in their world? Bathroom quickies at pool parties?
We sit in slightly awkward silence for a moment, the thumping bass from the main pool filling the void. I grab another shot from the table and take a large gulp, wishing it was water.
“So,” Leo tries again, nudging my foot playfully with his. “While they’re… occupied… tell me something interesting about Sabrina Taylor.”
“Interesting?” I stall, racking my brain, trying to pretend his gorgeous lips weren’t just pressing against mine for all they were worth moments ago. “Uh… I can name all fifty US state capitals in alphabetical order. And I make a killer lasagna.”
Nailed it. Mystery and allure, thy name is Sabrina.
He chuckles, tilting his head. “Points for lasagna. But I have a feeling there’s more under that polished PR exterior.”
More like crippling anxiety and a deep-seated fear of abandonment, but sure, let’s go with ‘mysterious depths.’
Before I can formulate another dazzlingly mundane revelation, a loud banging sound comes from the direction of the bathroom.
Leo suddenly laughs.
“You two done christening the facilities yet?” Leo calls out, amusement evident in his tone.
A muffled ‘fuck off’ comes from inside, barely intelligible over the music.
“So that’s what you’re doing in there, huh?” Leo retorts with a laugh, shaking his head. He turns back to me. “Never a dull moment with Dom when he decides to go off-script.”
Off-script? Is that what he call this?
I wonder if Tatiana has any idea what she’s getting into. This is definitely because of the drug.
My protective instincts flare up, and I can’t help but gazing at the bathroom door.
Apparently sensing my mood, Leo suddenly gets up and knocks on the door.
“Hey lovebirds,” Leo’s voice calls. “Either come out or we’re coming in. Marco’s getting antsy.”
The bathroom door opens and Rossi steps out, followed closely by Tatiana. They both look… well, exactly like two people who just had vigorous sex in a small, enclosed space. Flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, hair attractively mussed.
Tatiana’s bikini top looks like it was haphazardly clipped back together and appears ready to burst again at any moment, but she seems blissfully unaware, her eyes bright and slightly dazed. She looks almost as disheveled as I probably do after Leo’s surprise kiss.
She avoids looking directly at anyone.
Rossi, however, looks smugly satisfied.
Leo wolf-whistles softly. “Welcome back, lovebirds. Hope you left the plumbing intact.”
Rossi just grins, but then his eyes shoot to the far side of the room and his expression hardens instantly.
I follow his gaze and spot Marco, the groom-to-be. He and Jess are leaning in far too closely, and his hand is resting casually on her bare knee.
Okay, intervention time.
Before I can say anything, Rossi speaks first .
“Marco,” Rossi calls out, his voice sharper now, cutting through the cabana’s hazy atmosphere. “We should head back to the hotel. Big day tomorrow.”
Marco looks up, clearly irritated at being interrupted mid-flirt. “It’s still early.”
“Exactly,” Rossi says, crossing the space toward him in two strides. “Which means there’s plenty of time for you to fuck up your marriage before it even starts.”
Damn. Rossi doesn’t mince words.
Marco shrinks back slightly, guilt flashing across his face. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”
“Sure you weren’t,” Rossi replies, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. It’s friendly, but the underlying message is clear. “Let’s get you out of here before your good intentions go to shit.”
Leo groans dramatically. “Come on Dom. We’re just getting started.” He shoots me a look that clearly says ‘Don’t let him ruin our fun.’
Rossi shrugs. “You’re the one who just interrupted me in the bathroom, remember?”
Good point.
Tatiana jumps in, perhaps sensing an escape route. “Dom is right, we should change. The pool’s closing soon anyway.” It’s a blatant lie... the party’s still going strong... but Rossi shoots her a grateful look.
Marco needs extracting from this overly intimate environment. We all do.
Probably.
“Fine,” Leo concedes with a sigh, though he doesn’t look happy about it. “But the day is young. Let’s hit the Strip.”
That sounds… marginally safer than st aying here. Maybe the walk will clear everyone’s heads. Especially Tatiana’s.
And mine.
An hour later, showered and changed, we reconvene in the opulent hotel lobby. I’d swapped my bikini for jean shorts and a red tank top... casual, but hopefully cute enough. Tatiana meanwhile looks stunning in a simple black dress. Her eyes, however, still have that slightly unfocused, hazy look. As do the eyes of Jess and Amara.
Rossi and his coterie appear. He murmurs something in Tatiana’s ear, and she laughs, leaning into him slightly. Meanwhile Leo stands beside me, looking unfairly gorgeous in dark jeans and a soft gray knit shirt.
“Ready for round two?” he asks, that charming grin back in place.
“As I’ll ever be,” I reply, trying to match his nonchalance.
As our group heads for the exit, Leo casually takes my hand. My stomach does a weird little flip. His hand is large, warm, engulfing. It feels… nice. Dangerously nice.
I automatically lace my fingers through his, a gesture so unlike me I almost snatch my hand back.
What are you doing, Sabrina? He’s a client-adjacent party boy high on drugs! This has ‘bad idea’ written all over it.
But I don’t pull away.
Outside, the oven-like heat feels like a physical blow after the hotel air conditioning. The sun may have clocked out for the day, but Vegas heat clearly didn’t get the memo about working reasonable hours. The temperature has barely budged from inferno to merely scorching.
I miss the pool already... welcome to Hell’s marketing campaign: “What happens in Vegas literally melts in Vegas.”
The sidewalk radiates stored heat through my sandals, cooking my feet like a DIY hot plate. What’s usually a packed tourist obstacle course is weirdly empty, just scattered groups hurrying between casino entrances like heat-seeking missiles in reverse.
I immediately feel sweat bead along my hairline. My carefully applied makeup is now on a countdown to catastrophe.
“Nobody mentioned the weather forecast was ‘surface of the sun’ today,” I mutter.
“Isn’t it great!” Leo says, and from the sound of it, he means every word.
Damn GHB.
My body can’t decide if it wants to sweat or simply evaporate as casino sounds escape through periodically opening doors... electronic beeping, occasional shouts, and the persistent ka-ching of money changing hands.
I glance back. Behind us, the two men from Rossi’s security detail remain stoically uncomfortable as they shadow us discreetly.
Tatiana gasps as we pass the Bellagio fountains, which erupt in a perfectly choreographed water ballet at that exact moment.
“And I thought it was beautiful sober ,” she says with awe in her voice.
Rossi laughs beside her. “Everything’s better in Vegas like this...”
Leo squeezes my hand, his eyes glittering. “Isn’t it?”
I simply nod.
Please don’t notice my melting makeup. Please don’t notice...
We continue past the Bellagio. Suddenly, Rossi pulls Tatiana aside, pressing her against the cool exterior wall of the Cosmopolitan. Before she can react, his mouth is on hers in a deep, possessive kiss.
Leo sees them, and a slow grin spreads across his face. He glances at me, then deliberately mimics Rossi’s move, pulling me flush against the wall.
“When in Rome…” he murmurs, just before his lips capture mine again.
This kiss is different from the first one in the cabana. It’s even slower and deeper if that’s possible, a thorough exploration that makes my knees weak.
My hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the soft waves as I kiss him back, momentarily forgetting everything, especially the fact that we’re making out against a casino wall.
He groans softly, pulling my body impossibly closer. Just as things are escalating, I hear Sam’s voice cut through the haze.
“Get a room,” Sam shouts, laughing.
Leo pulls back, and both of us breath heavily. He glances over at Rossi and Tatiana, who’ve similarly broken their kiss.
When Leo looks at me again, he grins expectantly.
Say something witty. Say something cool.
But my brain is short-circuiting.
“We’re a different kind of spectacle, aren’t we?” I finally manage, my voice husky.
He just continues grinning.
The group starts walking again. I glance at Leo, but he’s staring at Rossi and Tatiana. He has that mischievous glint in his eyes again .
You know, the one that portends trouble.
Suddenly Leo lets go of my hand and dashes forward. He throws his arms around the shoulders Tatiana and Rossi.
“You guys should just get married,” Leo announces loudly. “You’re clearly made for each other.”
He did NOT just say that.
Oh but he did.
And the words simply hang there, shimmering in the furnace-like air.
I look at Tatiana. Her eyes are wide, fixed on Rossi. He looks back at her, a strange, unreadable expression on his face.
It’s a joke.
A stupid, drug-addled joke...
Come on, Tatiana.
I wait for the laughter, for someone to break the sudden, bizarre tension.
Instead, Rossi asks Tatiana, “Wanna?”
NO!
Tatiana, say no!
It’s the drugs, the booze, the Vegas insanity!
Tatiana giggles, a light, airy sound completely disconnected from the gravity of the question.
“Why not?” she says, swaying slightly. “When in Vegas…”