Travis – Now
“Thankyou.”Itippedthe driver after he unloaded our backpacks from the trunk and hung them on the trolley.
“Of course, sir. Thank you.” He discreetly pocketed the tip and waved our driver on.
We weren’t quite regular visitors to Vegas, but we’d been here before, and the Bellagio was our preferred hotel. It was in the center of the Strip, and our usual suite overlooked the fountains. On the odd occasion that Rusty came, he enjoyed looking out over them. We always booked him a seat just in case he decided at the last minute to join us. This time we hadn’t been so lucky, but it was probably for the best given Jacques couldn’t get our suite.
It didn’t really matter what room we ended up in. We were only here for two nights, and from what he’d told me, Carina hadn’t been to Vegas before. He wanted to give her the full experience—shopping, food, shows, dancing, and gambling if she wanted it. I doubted we’d be spending much time in the room itself.
We got checked in and wandered over to the drop-off zone. Jacques had ordered a driver for Carina, too—her flight landed an hour after ours—so we’d decided to meet here at the hotel rather than in the crowded airport.
Jacques’s breath caught, and I looked across the lobby trying to see who he’d spotted. I didn’t have to search for long. There was only one woman who was alone, and she was utterly gorgeous. Curves for miles, long, dark, wavy hair with blonde tips, and a sweet, if hesitant, smile. She looked like a deer in headlights, her eyes comically wide as she scanned the room.
My guy was out of his seat in an instant, and the crowds parted as he strode on those long, sexy legs toward her. We’d been together for years, and I would never tire of watching either Jacques or Rusty move. They were the men for me. We still had an open relationship—we had to so that speculation didn’t run wild about why Jacques and his roommates didn’t date—but these days, it was rare that we hooked up with a woman. It was always separately nowadays, though—Jacques and I hadn’t shared a woman since he'd joined the NHL. Threesomes were begging for controversy that none of us wanted.
Jacques was the most eligible bachelor in San Diego, and every one of his moves was monitored by a gaggle of fans. The last thing we needed was one of our hookups announcing to the world that we’d banged her together. Everyone knew it happened all the time. But we didn’t want that kind of bad press, especially after Jacques’s surprise appointment as Captain of the Seals during his second year in the NHL.
Captaining in a player’s second year was practically unheard of, and there were far more experienced players that probably deserved the spot. But Jacques had quickly become the center of the team—literally and figuratively. He was the level-headed one who was friendly, didn’t fuck around, and acted with a maturity way beyond his age. He’d stepped up to rally the guys when their original captain had been lackluster, and team management noticed. They gave Jacques the temporary gig when the captain got traded just before the team’s second season began. He’d continued to do a great job, and team management had appointed him as permanent captain partway through that year.
I watched as Carina spotted Jacques and her smile became genuine. She really was stunning. I stood up and strolled over to them as they hugged tight.
When they pulled apart, I held out my hand. “You must be Carina. I’m Travis, Jacques’s roommate.”
She was barely up to my shoulder, and her gaze followed my hand all the way up to my face. She flushed, a pretty pink breaking out on her cheeks, and said, “Hi-ey…. Carina…. Yeah. Yes, I’m Carina.” She flushed a deeper pink and let out a flustered laugh before fanning herself. “Sorry, it’s warm in here.”
It really wasn’t. The air-conditioning was blasting the massive lobby with frosty air so that it could keep the worst of the desert heat at bay.
“Let me take those to where our luggage is.” I gestured to her backpack, and she handed it over, then pulled up the handle on her rolling suitcase.
I passed the bags to the concierge and rejoined Jacques and Carina as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and smiled shyly at our guy.
“I don’t mind what we do. Your mum suggested we come here for a few days to have a girls’ weekend—shopping, shows, a massage, that sort of thing—but I don’t expect you and Travis to hang around me.”
“We came to Vegas so we could spend time with you. Travis and I can give you a fun weekend, can’t we?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. The look in his eyes screamed desire. His pupils were blown, and I could see his pulse point hammering in his throat. He was turned on, and I was a goner. It was exactly the look he’d given me the night we’d first met. I’d fallen hard and fast for him—I’d wanted him with a vengeance then. I still wanted him now.
I swallowed.
The weekend had just taken an interesting turn. If Carina gave him any hint she was into him, they’d be hooking up. If she wanted to take a walk on the wild side, I’d just been officially recruited.
***
I played porter, carrying most of the bags we’d accumulated. Carina wasn’t an expensive shopper. She’d gravitated toward H&M and a few of the other outlet-type stores, but Jacques was spoiling her, insisting we go into the boutiques and that she try on everything she oooh’d and aaah’d over. She protested at first, but Jacques shushed her and said it was his job to spoil her rotten this weekend.
She was… lovely. Sweet with a melodic laugh that I wanted to hear more of. Her head was on a swivel as our rideshare had driven us down the Strip, taking in all the sights and chatting nonstop with the driver about living in Vegas. She begged to stop for ice cream, then insisted on treating us to the biggest ones when Jacques had agreed, and she’d bought me a bag of purple Skittles as big as my head when I told her they were my favorites.
Carina giggled at my stupid jokes, and I loved the way she naturally wanted to be between us whenever she could. She didn’t say much about why she was in the States, but I knew from Jacques that her separation wasn’t amicable. I had a feeling she was finding herself again, which was perfect. Jacques knew how to make people feel good about themselves—he was caring and attentive—and I could make her laugh.
We walked into the next boutique, and Jacques went straight for a black dress. “Try this on,” he murmured close to her ear. He held her low at the small of her back, the move intimate as well as gentlemanly.
Carina’s eyes fluttered closed when he leaned into her, pressing himself against her back, and she sucked in a breath. I saw the way her nipples peaked under her shirt.
So did Jacques.
His eyes darkened, his pupils blew, and as he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flared.
“I can’t try that,” she whispered, her tone scandalized. But when she caressed the material, she moaned, “Oh, it feels divine.”
“Try it on,” I encouraged, taking a step closer. Carina was bracketed between us, and if it weren’t for the countless bags I was holding, I’d be even closer.
