Sinful Nights: Sinful Longing Part 5

Tyler nodded. "But I still love your mac and cheese."

"Fine, we'll stay. We need to work on our angles later." Rex draped an arm around his brother. "Hey, Elle, did you hear? Colin is trying to turn me into the next venture capitalist."

"That sounds like an excellent pursuit," she said.

"I'm gonna earn twenty-five percent and beat his a.s.s."

"After I tutor you in math, you just might," Colin said.

The teen turned to Elle. "He twisted my arm. He's gonna make me learn my two plus twos for community college."

"That's not a bad thing, Rex. And I suspect you'll learn a whole lot more than two plus two."

"Anyway, it's too hot out here. We're going inside. Catch you later, Mr. Cristal," Rex said with a wink at Colin.

As he walked away, Elle raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Cristal?"

"Long story. But it has a good ending."

"Maybe tell me tonight?" She tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans. "Turns out I have more time than I thought. Alex is at a friend's house for dinner, then they're going to see the new dinosaur movie or whatever that thing is that all the boys are watching on the big screen."

"Are you asking me out, Elle?"

"I was just thinking it would be fun to hang out with you. As friends," she added, a reminder of how she saw him. Her voice went a touch softer, "As well as...you know."

Hang out. Friends. Not exactly the words he wanted to hear from her. But he could work with it. "I can do a lot with more time."

"I had a feeling you might be able to," she said, tapping her watch. "Give me an hour to finish up?"

"Perfect. I need to stop at my house anyway. I'm taking care of Ryan's dog since he's followed Sophie to Germany."

"He followed her to Germany?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.

"He did indeed. He's madly in love with her. So I've got Johnny Cash for the week, and I need to go take him for a walk."

"That is so sweet."

"Me taking care of his dog, or him following her to Germany?"

Elle flashed him the sweetest smile. "Both actually. I'm so happy for her," she said, practically glowing as she spoke about the two of them. "He looked so in love with her when I saw them at the Venetian event together. And it's incredibly cool of you to look after his dog." She gestured in Rex's direction. "And to help Rex to focus more on his studies. I've been trying to get him to work on math for the longest time, and I've never seen him connect with anyone else here like he does with you." She reached out to wrap her hand around his arm. "He's such a good kid at heart, taking care of his little brother and everything. But he needs to channel all his money-making energy so he's not taken in by the wrong thing."

"I hear you loud and clear," Colin said, enjoying all the things Elle had just told him, but especially her reaction to Ryan's romance movie-esque pursuit of Sophie. Sure, she was talking about another couple, but something seemed to spark in her at the mention, as if it stirred up a long-dormant longing.

Cool your jets, Colin.

He might be reading too much into it. But Elle had focused so long on other people-on her son, on her ex. She didn't let romance into her life, and now she was only permitting fun in the bedroom. Perhaps, though, he needed to do more tonight than just send her soaring between the sheets. This thing between them might only be about the physical right now, but he had a chance tonight to show her how good he could be for her. Maybe friends.h.i.+p was the key to unlocking the heart that she kept so protected.

"Meet me on Fremont Street and North Las Vegas Boulevard at six p.m."

Her eyes widened and her shoulders tensed. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes. "Are you going to make me do the zip line?"

He scoffed. "Make you? Never. Encourage you? Absolutely."

"Why do you want me to do it?"

"Because it's fun. Because it's a natural high. Because it feels good."

"Lots of things feel good but that doesn't mean I want to do them."

"So let me get this straight. You do roller derby, racing around a rink like a speed demon on skates, and you won't do a zip line?" he asked, challenging her.

She narrowed her eyes, parking her hands on her hips. "Not the same. Roller derby is flat. Besides, I've done it for years, I play defense, and it's indoors."

"C'mon, t.i.tanium," he urged, goading her with her roller derby name.

She pursed her lips. "No fair."

"All's fair," he began, but cut himself off before finis.h.i.+ng with in love and war. He didn't want to hint at love, or romance, or anything close to it. Those were red flags for her, even if he hoped something in the back of her mind or heart might yearn for them. "In any case, it's your choice, t.i.tanium."

"I will consider it as I lock up my office," she said, and those words-lock up-flipped the switch on an idea.

He jumped to a new topic. "Hey, would it be okay if I increased my firm's donation to the center?"

She shook her head playfully. "No. G.o.d no. Anything but that," she said, waving it off. She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. But why, may I ask?"

"Thought it would be smart to get some additional security while the revitalization is going on," he said, gesturing to the court and main building. "Lots of people coming and going. Construction crews. My donation already went to some of that already. Just a little more for some extra manpower."

"Anything I should worry about?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "Well, more than usual. I know this isn't the best section of town, but it's getting better."

"It is absolutely getting better. Let's keep it that way. I happen to know some guys in security," he said, since Ryan and Michael ran a security firm.

"Let's do it."

"Three of my favorite words from you," he said, as they walked off the court. He pointed to his car parked down the block. "I'm going to go shower and walk the dog. I'll see you at six."

She fanned herself. "Now I have a nice image of you naked and wet in the shower."

"And that's my cue to go."

He brushed his lips against hers, leaving her a quick, hot kiss to think about.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Elle stared at the crowds along the Fremont Street Canopy seventy-seven feet below her.

Deep breath.

She wasn't afraid of heights, but she was afraid of, well, of dying. Or, more precisely, dying stupidly. Like jumping into a lake and cutting her head on a rock. Like parachuting. Like cras.h.i.+ng from a zip line. That kind of death.

Logically, she knew a zip line wasn't a dangerous activity in the spectrum of dangerous things. But her rapidly beating heart, which seemed to be fighting its way out of her chest, begged to disagree. Her skin p.r.i.c.kled with nerves-the kind she hadn't felt since she was younger and danced with danger. Now, as an adult, she tried to keep her risks manageable.

You can do this, she told the portion of her brain that had zero interest in skydiving and bungee jumping. Just a zip line. It's exceedingly safe, and ridiculously fun.

Plus, Colin waited patiently on the other side, hovering in his seat. The parallel zip lines ran down the length of the covered Fremont Street that was the epicenter of downtown Las Vegas-old Vegas, with the Golden Nugget, and slots that still relied on coins rather than tickets. It was Vegas before mega resorts broke ground on the Strip.

Everyone rode the line here on Fremont Street. It was part of the experience. Besides, cruising along a zip line was a perfectly manageable risk. Man-made, controllable. The kind she could handle.

"I'm ready," she said to the attendant. In a rush, so she wouldn't back down, she let go and stepped off the platform, zipping off in her seat harness. She unleashed a rollercoaster shout of excitement. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she soared above the specks of miniature people, and a sense of wild glee engulfed her as she sped, faster and faster. She glanced briefly to the left, where Colin sailed above the crowds on his downhill flight along the canopy.

Screw fear. This was a pure rush, as the summer breeze whooshed past her, reminding her of the thrill she felt when roller-skating, the high-speed chase around the rink. The charge that raced through her overpowered her primal worries. She rode several blocks in the sky.

She flew the final feet to the end of the line. The guy on the platform helped unhook her. "How was it?" he asked.

She gave him a thumbs up, her heart still pumping wildly.

Minutes later, she climbed down from the platform and met Colin on the street. He wrapped his arms around her. "Admit it. You loved it," he said with a gleam in his eyes.

"Loved it," she said breathlessly, her pulse pounding in her veins. "Absolutely loved it."

"Excellent. Tomorrow morning you'll join me for kayaking at the crack of dawn at Black Canyon," he said.

She shuddered. "Kayaking? Like in a lake?"

"That's generally where one kayaks."

"That comes with a chance of flipping over and cracking your head on a rock. Pretty sure this zip line is all you're getting out of me when it comes to crazy sports."

"Kayaking in flat water? Chance of flipping over is slim to nil. So low risk it's beyond low risk."

She patted his chest. "In that case, I have somewhere to be at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Hmm. Where could it be? Oh right," she said, snapping her fingers. "Sound asleep in my bed."

"Mmm. Bed. Another potential extreme sport."

"Now that I might be up for," she said, then lingered in his embrace, inhaling his freshly showered scent-clean, and s.e.xy. She didn't hold back. She pressed her lips to his neck and kissed him, letting herself savor this part, this permission she'd given herself to enjoy the s.e.xy times with Colin.

He drew a sharp inhalation, and asked, "Payback for the other night?"

She nodded and roped her arms tightly around his waist, playfully gripping him, keeping the focus squarely on what they were-friends with benefits. Nothing more. "And now I shall take you to a secret location and smother your neck in kisses that make you turn to putty in my hands. See if it works as well on you as it does on me."

He leaned his head back and laughed deeply. "That's a viable option for tonight. Or I could take you to the Mob Museum and we can find a dark corner there."

"The Mob Museum?"

"Ever been?"

She shook her head. "No, but I've been wanting to go ever since it opened a few years ago. I keep meaning to go, especially considering how much I love gangster movies."

He nudged her with his elbow. "Let's go."

She nudged him in return. "You're holding out on me tonight. The zip line, the Mob Museum. Everything's above the belt," she said, and though those all distinctly felt like the elements of a date, they were also things you'd do with a friend. She wasn't crossing lines. She wasn't breaking promises. This was good, old-fas.h.i.+oned hanging out with someone whose company she enjoyed.

Plain and simple.

The answer was yes.

He was absolutely holding out on her. He wanted her, but he wanted her to see that they could have amazing s.e.x and an amazing time. They wandered through the crowds, soaking in the neon and lights, the exuberance of the summertime atmosphere, and not once did he feel a lick of envy for the twenty-somethings bobbing around with long, tall plastic gla.s.ses full of liquor in their hands. Nope, he was a happy son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h as they walked through old-time Vegas, then up the steps of the museum that doc.u.mented the history of the mob.

"We're closing in thirty minutes," the ticket taker said in a monotone at the entrance.

"We'll be speedy," Colin said, and they walked inside the stone building, and strolled first through exhibits on famous "made men," both in the mob and popular culture, perusing photos of some of the most notorious Mafiosi over the last one hundred years, like John Gotti. Next, they checked out an installation of movie posters.

"Is there anything better than a mob movie?" he asked, and Elle nodded in perfect agreement.

"Love them. Casino. Epic. The Departed. Fantastic. Road to Perdition. Chilling."

"Eight Men Out. Proof that the mob had its hands in everything. Even fixing the World Series."

"Everything," she said, enunciating each syllable as she echoed his sentiment. They stopped at a huge framed poster of Ray Liotta, Robert DeNiro, and Joe Pesci. She pointed. "Goodfellas. Best mob movie ever."

"Best closing lines ever, too," he added, and they turned to each other, speaking in unison. "I'm an average n.o.body. I get to live the rest of my life like a schnook."

He raised his hand and they knocked fists.

"Isn't it amazing," she began, "how being a regular Joe was Ray Liotta's worst nightmare? He dreaded not being a gangster, and somehow you felt for him when it happened. You sympathized with his plight as a regular schnook," she said, her voice rising in excitement.

He gestured to the poster for The G.o.dfather. "I don't even know what it is about the mob. They do horrible things and live a life of crime, and yet sometimes we root for them in movies. It makes no logical sense."

"Look!"

She grabbed his arm and tugged him to a series of sepia-tinted photographs from Vegas through the years, highlighting famous moments in the city's history and the role of the mob in each milestone.

"It's just crazy to think how much of this town was built on crime," she said in awe, as they stared at a photo of the Flamingo Hotel when it opened in 1946. "'Operated by noted mobster Bugsey Siegel,'" she said, reading the plaque.

He tapped the wall next to an image of The Sands Casino in the 60s, a home base for Frank Sinatra and his Rat Pack that was owned by a New York mob man. "And it spread far and wide. Some of the biggest hotels in the city were owned and operated by this wild combination of Mormon businessmen and the mob, so they could have a legitimate appearance on the outside, and money laundering and street muscle on the inside."

"The whole notion that there is the underbelly of crime everywhere, all around us, blows my mind," she said, pressing her fingertips to her forehead and miming an explosion.

Colin nodded in agreement. "Handouts, corrupt cops, men on the take, informants, and the guys in suits circulating around town every day, weaving in and out of casinos. Looking like me, or like one of my brothers, or just anybody."