“Does everything have to remind you of sex?”
“Sexiseverything,” he smoothly replied.“Speaking of…”
Appraisingly, he eyed the elevator bank, and she didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment in his green eyes.“Well, that’s a bust,” he muttered.
Eve followed his gaze to the twin vertical tracks, where curved glass cabins moved passengers up and down with impressive speed.
She burst into a laugh.“They’re clear.”
Most of Devon’s requests featured some sort of elevator activity involving four-inch closed-toe pumps, skirts slit up the back, and open gusset thongs. She didn’t like to think of all the times security guys all over Vegas must have had a blast watching the two of them after Devon had punched the emergency stop button and rounded on her like a beast.
They reached the bank and waited for a cabin to descend.
He leaned down, moving close to murmur in her ear.“Gonna be hard to ride up to the top and keep my hands to myself the whole way.”
She smiled at him.“Now you care who sees?”
His dimples flashed.“Unfortunately, there are too many coworkers around here.”
The doors slid open.“Lobby,” a monotone robotic female voice announced. Passengers spilled out, scattering everywhere, each hurrying to partake in some sort of Vegas fun or food or sin.
Placing a palm gallantly on her lower back, Devon guided her in. Surprisingly, no one else entered, and the glass doors shut with only the two of them inside. Above the control panel, Eve spotted a brass plaque rendition of the needle-nose airplane sculpture she had seen in the lobby.
Devon punched the button marked49. The elevator began a smooth and swift ascent.
He turned to her, his green eyes blazing.“Later, I hope. You look fantastic tonight.”
•
“Porn star martini for the lady.”
Eve gave Devon a sidelong look.“Really?”
He shrugged.“I can’t think of anyone more deserving of thatdrink.”
Coming from him, it wasn’t an insult but a compliment, and she accepted it as such. Eve knew she was the best at what she did, and she refused to be ashamed.
She smirked right back at him.“Green elevator for the gentleman,” she sweetly told the bartender.
Dressed in a smart gray vest, white shirt, and silver bow tie, the young man nodded but looked to Devon for confirmation.
Devon grinned.“You heard the lady, man,” he said.“Grab the Gray Goose and get to shaking.”
They leaned against the chrome barstools, watching the bartender showcase his talents with bottles, jiggers, and shakers. Tom Cruise inCocktailhad nothing on this guy.
“Looks wonderful,” she said when he presented her with a martini glass filled with orange liquid topped with white foam, a slice of seedy passion fruit floating on top.
“This is the side.” He placed a shot of bubbly prosecco beside her glass.
She lifted the foamy orange drink and took a sip. Passion fruit, lime, and vanilla flavors rolled, melding on her tongue.“Mmm.”
It was surprisingly good.
Devon watched keenly as she licked a bit of foam off her lips.“You’re torturing me,” he said, his voice low and sultry. His hand slid to her arm.“You like?”
“I like.”
He turned to watch the bartender combine Chartreuse Green, lemon juice, and syrup in a shaker. With a flourish, he poured the drink into a tall tumbler and slid it across the bar.