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“Isn’t Vegas like a short drive from the Bay Area?” Elena asked, making everyone laugh. She was obviously the newest California implant. East Coasters tend to forget just how big our state is.

“Not short,” I answer, unless you consider nine hours short. “But drivable, yes. Not exactly on my parents’ list for family-friendly destinations, though.”

“Right then. We’re going out!” Darius declared.

“No nightclubs!” we all shouted. Darius and Vegas sounded like a bad combination. Of all the guys, he was the least tame, and this was, by no means, a PR-sanctioned event we were planning.

But when he told us what he had in mind, the guys quickly got on board.

Now, we’re cruising down the strip in a tricked-out Escalade on our way to a private location for a group activity I never thought I’d be doing.

It’s been a little over a week since we were in Houston, and every day has felt like one of those cheesy montage reels they do in a rom-com. The two main characters have finally hooked up, and it’s just sex, breakfast in bed, and endless laughter. Followed by more sex.

That is what my life feels like right now.

Every moment we’re not working, we’re together.

We never even discussed it, but after that first night, he didn’t bother going to his room when we got to Dallas. He just followed me to mine, and we’ve been together ever since.

And it feels…good.

“All right, so this is a mandatory participation kind of night, yeah?” Darius gives each of us a stern, take-no-shit look. “No spectators.”

Zander gives his wife and me a glance before turning to address Darius. “No one’s gonna be forced, Darius. This isn’t the sort of thing you get peer pressured into.”

I chew on my bottom lip for a moment before making eye contact with Elena. We lock eyes for a second, and then her lips curl into an amused smile.

I nod.

“We’re in,” we both say at the same time.

“What?” Hendrix and Zander echo back.

“We’re in.” Elena shrugs, raising an eyebrow at her husband. “What? You thought I’d chicken out?”

“No, I just?—”

“It’s not like it’s my first time.”

“No, but—” He swallows, and the look he gives her is primal. “Fuck.”

I turn away and find myself staring right into Hendrix’s concerned gaze. “You sure? ’Cause you know it’s?—”

I laugh. “Permanent?”

He gives a smirk. “Uh-huh.”

“Did you know that when you got that little cherub on your chest?”

His denim blue eyes soften as he holds my gaze. “Yes,” he answers. “I did.”

Before I can form a reply, Darius announces that we’ve arrived, and everyone erupts in a boisterous cheer.

The SUV comes to a stop, and as usual, we’re behind the building, so at first glance, it is not all that appealing. The driver pulled right up to the nondescript steel door to prevent us from being seen, so I barely have a moment to look around before we’re ushered inside.

When Darius announced his intentions for us tonight, he quickly roped PR Misty to help with his plans. With her magic connections, she was able to get us into one of the top tattoo studios in Vegas tonight.

Just us, as in they shut the whole place down.