Page 4 of Playing By His Rules

“No. Our reason for sending you a day earlier has nothing to do with business,” Mac said, shifting in his seat. “Dean and I both think you could use a few days to yourself, to just relax and unwind before any of the meetings begin.”

Well, that certainly sounded . . . boring, and the two men were confusing the shit out of him. “I don’t need extra time to relax and unwind.”

“We think differently.” Dean leaned forward and clasped his hands on the surface of the desk, his gaze direct. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”

He shrugged. “Can’t remember.” And why the hell did that even matter?

“Exactly,” Mac interjected, as if Rick had proven their point. “You’ve been working your ass off, staying late and taking work home with you on the weekends. With everything that has happened over the past seven or eight months, we think you’re due for some downtime.”

Clearly, his boss was referencing everything that had happened between him, Summer, and Declan—and the fact that maybe Rick had been using business as a distraction—which he wasn’t about to confirm or deny. “So, what do you expect me to do in Vegas all by myself?”

“Go gambling,” Dean suggested. “Visit a strip club and get a lap dance. Go see a show or concert. And if you’re in the mood for more personal companionship, Mac and I went ahead and signed you up for a weeklong membership at The Penthouse.”

Dean opened a drawer, retrieved what looked like a black credit card embossed with THE PENTHOUSE in gold, and slid it across the desk toward Rick. “That card gives you full access to all the fun and entertainment The Penthouse has to offer up until next weekend, so go and enjoy yourself and we’ll foot the bill.”

Based on the detailed specifications Rick had been given on Reign, and all the thorough research he’d done on the various businesses and operations within the hotel and casino, he already knew that The Penthouse was an added perk for members who paid an extra exorbitant fee to belong to the exclusive, male only club, which also required a signed NDA before being accepted. The only females allowed inside the elite group were there as potential clients to those privileged, wealthy members, all under the guise of being legitimate escorts.

From what Rick had learned, the women—all of whom were vetted prior to entering the private society—offered different levels of companionship based on a bracelet they wore. Pink for those who only provided a few hours of platonic company, lavender for the ladies willing to partake in vanilla sex, and red meant anything goes, if both parties agreed on what that entailed. Each tier came with a different price tag for the client—on top of the membership dues.

Rick picked up the card and arched a brow at Dean, then Mac. “How the hell did you manage to get a temporary membership to such an exclusive club so quickly?”

“Do you really have to ask with all the connections I have?” Mac said, sounding amused.

“Good point.” Mac, who owned The Players Club, had friends in extremely high places so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Rick that Mac would take advantage of that clout.

“You’re all set,” Mac grinned. “I forwarded all your pertinent paperwork from the club so they already have it on file. All you have to do is show up and decide how you want to spend your evening, and with whom.”

Rick huffed out an incredulous laugh. “Clearly, you’ve thought of everything.”

“Yes, we did.” Dean leaned back in his chair. “We’re insisting you take off for Vegas tomorrow, instead of Sunday. Enjoy your extra time in the luxury room we booked for you, hit the poker tables for a few rounds, and go see what The Penthouse has to offer. Think of it as a palate cleanser.”

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to blow off some steam, or let some sexy woman blowyou. Lord knows, you could probably use the sexual release,” Mac muttered beneath his breath, but loud enough for Rick to hear, which was no doubt his intention.

Rick shot his boss a mildly annoyed look. “What makes you think I haven’t gotten laid lately?”

Mac didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Well, rumor has it that you’ve turned down every offer you’ve had at The Players Club the past few months.”

Jesus. Rick shook his head in disbelief. The man knew too much, and clearly, the members talked too fucking much. He’d spent weekends at The Players Cub searching for something less predictable than having kinky sex with a woman who was too eager to please and overtly experienced.

Crazy as it was to admit, the sexual encounters were all beginning to feel mundane and gratuitous and unfulfilling. He knew most of the women at the club, and it was true that lately none of them had sparked his interest beyond a brief conversation. It didn’t help matters that he was searching for something elusive . . . like the kind of rare and deeply emotional connection Declan shared with Summer. Physical attraction was easy and superficial, but he’d come to the conclusion that he craved a more intimate exchange with a woman these days and he just wasn’t finding that at The Players Club.

“Jillian thinks that the whole situation with Declan and Summer put you in a sexual funk,” Dean said, as if he’d just read Rick’s mind.

“I’m happy for them,” he responded automatically, and truthfully, while wishing that everyone would stop speculating about his feelings. He’d moved on, and they needed to, as well.

“I know you are,” Dean replied. “I’m not disputing that, but I think what happened threw your mojo off, and you need to get it back.”

“Yeah, we’re worried your dick is going to shrivel up and fall off from lack of use.” Mac laughed. “Which is why Dean and I are insisting that you take advantage of that pricey membership at The Penthouse. Even if it’s for nothing more than companionship and cuddles with a woman, if that’s what you need to get your groove back.”

Rick pursed his lips and glared at his friend and boss. “Now you’re just being an asshole.”

Mac gave him an unrepentant look. “Guilty as charged.”

Fine. He’d visit The Penthouse and keep an open mind, even if it was just to placate Mac and Dean’s insistence that he needed a change of scenery when it came to women.

Chapter 3

Madison Corbin swallowed back the nerves gathering in her throat as she glanced at her reflection in the dresser mirror, unable to believe she was about to spend the evening as an escort at a swanky, private, male only club—in the equally exclusive Reign hotel. Then again, drastic times called for drastic measures, and her situation was about as dire as it got.

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