Later that evening, Sammy turned off the TV, switched off the light, and stepped out of her hotel room. In the hallway, she tapped her phone screen.
It was just five minutes past 8 o'clock. It was still early in Sin City, and she was ready to go.
She wore a short blue gown. Very short. The fabric clung to her skin, accentuating her curves. Her red hair fell down her shoulders, and her makeup was light, with just a touch of red lipstick.
The reflective surface of her hotel door caught her attention, and she liked what she saw. This woman was gorgeous.
Sammy wasn't vain, but she knew the effect she had on people, especially men. It would be silly to act coy and pretend otherwise when people had been singing her praises since she was a little girl.
Time to go.
Sammy knew if she spent any more time alone, she would get cold feet and change her mind. Without any more hesitation, she walked down the hallway, stepped out of the hotel, and crossed the street to the club.
As she pushed open the door, she reminded herself why she was doing this.
The day she agreed to her father's proposal, she knew her time to live for herself was running out.
She had to do something for herself before she got tied down to a wimp who needed his father's help to get a woman.
This is for the best. Sammy wanted to believe those words, so she had repeated them a thousand times.
Everything she was doing was for her father and the people who would lose their jobs and hard-earned money if something ever happened to the company.
This is for the best.
Also, I'm not cheating on anyone. I'm not married to Dave Rice or even dating him, she assured herself.
Inside the club, it was still quiet. It was still early, even in Sin City.
"Can I get your best... I mean, your strongest drink?" She slid onto a stool at the bar.
The bartender, a man with black hair, one of the most beautiful men Sammy had ever seen, turned to face her. "Hello, gorgeous. What will you be having?"
Sammy smiled sheepishly. She couldn't help it. Her mouth twisted into cute, awkward expressions.
He must be Italian. They're built like this. How is he so beautiful?
He could work for what she needed. She had come to Las Vegas to lose her virginity to a stranger.
If she couldn't control the many things in her life, she was damn sure going to control how she spent her final days of freedom.
"Ma'am?"
"Ma'am?" Sammy's mouth fell open, insulted. "I'm younger than you."
"How can you be sure?" The bartender laughed, a rich, beautiful sound. "I kept calling you, but you just kept staring at me. Almost like you were lost in my eyes."
"Ah... you... you..." Sammy stammered, her mouth still agape. This man had no shame.
"I have that effect on people," he teased, winking. "It's the face and body, right?"
Sammy laughed, shaking her head. "You... you're something else."
"You're beautiful yourself," he smirked, biting his bottom lip lightly. "So, what can I get for the beautiful señorita?"
And for the hundredth time that night, she was glad she had come to Vegas.
His name tag read Simon. In Sammy's head, she auditioned him for the role she had in mind, and he passed round one with flying colors.
"Can I have the strongest drink in the bar?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip. This bad idea of mine might just be easier than I thought.
"The strongest? I don't think you can handle it, mama." Simon raised a thick brow, looking concerned.
Sammy's excitement cooled automatically.
"Hi, Simon, that's your name, right?" Her voice turned flat. "For a while now, people have been telling me what I can and cannot do, and I'm pissed and tired of hearing it." The frustration was obvious in her tone. "So when I say I want the strongest drink in the bar, that's what I want."
"Your drink is coming right up." Simon seemed unfazed. This wasn't the first time he'd dealt with someone like her.
A small part of Sammy wanted to apologize for snapping, but she shrugged it off. The words were already out, and nothing would change that. An apology would only sound hypocritical.
A few minutes later, Simon placed a cold glass in front of her and took a wary step back.
"Here's your Hell on Ice, ma'am."
"Hell on Ice? Your strongest? Nice name."
Sammy picked up the glass and downed the drink in one gulp, much to Simon's dismay. He stared at her as if she had lost her mind.
A harsh cough escaped her lips. Her eyes watered. She blinked back the tears and gave Simon a look that said, I'm not fazed.
Uh... That was hard. That was strong.
"Can I get a refill, please?" She smiled innocently.
Simon picked up the glass and poured another, not questioning her this time.
As soon as he set it down, Sammy lifted it and drank it all in one gulp again.
She didn't feel different. Yes, the drink was harsh, but she wasn't tipsy or feeling drunk at all. If this was their strongest drink, this club would have to shut down because it wasn't doing anything for her.
The DJ switched tracks.
"Wait a minute... That's my song!" Sammy jumped up, throwing her hands in the air and moving her head to the beat.
She opened her eyes. The bar was spinning.
She quickly gripped the stool for balance, but her legs suddenly felt heavy. Her body tilted.
She was falling.
A strong hand caught her before she hit the floor, just as a cold drink spilled onto her dress.
"What the-?" Sammy gasped, her voice rising in anger. She tried to wipe the mess away, but it was useless. The dress was ruined.
"I'm sorry," a male voice said.
Sammy sniffled, staring at the stain. The harder she tried to clean it, the worse it got. The dress felt like her life. Nothing was going the way she wanted. Everything just kept falling apart.
"I'm really sorry about your dress. Would you sit down? Maybe I can help get the stain out?" The man helped her back onto the stool.
Sammy inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. "I didn't thank you for-"
Her words cut off as she finally looked down.
The man's head was lowered, and with a handkerchief in hand, he carefully dabbed at the fabric. He was huge, practically kneeling in front of her, and something about a man down in front of her like that did things to her insides.
She gulped and stared at his rich, thick black hair.
The man looked up. "I'm sorry. I think I got most of it."
Sammy blinked. He had the deepest brown eyes she'd ever seen. Thick black hair fell across his face. He was too beautiful to be human. His face looked angelic, but those eyes... those eyes said he was anything but.
This man was trouble.
Towering over her, he leaned in slightly to meet her gaze.
"Did I hit you?" he asked gently.
"No." Sammy shook her head. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"I'm glad." He smiled apologetically and straightened up.
"All the handsome men came out tonight," Sammy mumbled.
Her eyes widened. Oh, shit. I said that out loud.
He chuckled. "Handsome men? You mean me?"
His deep, mischievous voice sent a shiver down her spine. Sammy swallowed hard.
She turned away, mortified.
He laughed. "I guess that means my apology is accepted."
She nodded, too embarrassed to trust her mouth again.
She wanted to tear her gaze away, but she couldn't. Before he sat, she had noticed how his jeans hugged his ass. Sammy had to remind herself to breathe, but she couldn't stop staring at him.
His thighs looked strong and muscular beneath the denim, and his broad, wide shoulders had her imagining his arms wrapped around her. Her throat suddenly went dry at the thought.
"Can I have another?" she asked, addressing Simon.
Simon refilled her glass and turned away to serve the customers who had just walked in. Sammy sipped this drink more slowly, taking her time while sneaking glances at him from the corner of her eye, trying not to be too obvious.
He was wearing a white shirt, the first four buttons undone, teasing her eyes with glimpses of his tanned chest. It took all her willpower not to reach out and touch his arm. The veins running down to his fingers looked too good... too tempting.
"Shit." Sammy blinked. What am I doing?
"Am I really that handsome?" His deep voice pulled her from her thoughts. "I noticed you couldn't stop staring at me." He smirked, then corrected himself. "Actually, you couldn't stop staring at my body."
"Huh?" She looked up, stunned.
"So?" He leaned in slightly. "Am I that handsome?"
"Huh?" Sammy scoffed. Rolled her eyes. "How can you talk about yourself like that?"
He turned on his stool, fully facing her. "Like what? Acknowledging that I'm handsome? Or knowing that I am?"
"Both."
He raised a brow. "So, it's okay for you to think I'm handsome but wrong for me to know it?"
Sammy shrugged.
He chuckled. "I own a mirror, and I know what I see. Why should I pretend?"
Someone is selling an anti-shame pill tonight. First, the bartender, now this guy. And he's so, so handsome... I want to kiss those sexy lips and—
Sammy snapped out of it, shocked at herself. She quickly turned away and faced the bartender, telling herself she must be drunk. That was the only explanation for how she was feeling about every man tonight.
"Hi, I'm Chris." He extended a hand.
His smile held a silent message as if whispering, Ooh, baby, I'm the answer to your deepest fantasies.
Sammy smirked. "Hi, I'm me." She took his outstretched hand, her grip firm but teasing.
Chris laughed. "That's not your name."
"It isn't, but I don't feel like telling you." She turned away.
"Well, aren't you a mystery? Lady, I didn't force you to tell me your name or anything." He shrugged, clearly annoyed as he turned away. "How can she be such a child?" he muttered under his breath.
"What?" Sammy's ears perked up.
"You heard me all right." He turned back to face her, looking like a mischievous child. "Wait... are you some kind of serial killer?"
"Huh?" She chuckled lightly. "You got me. I'm just waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill you and dump your body somewhere..." She pointed a slow, teasing finger across his face. "...where no one would bother to look."
"Well, I don't think I'd mind." He winked at her, raising his glass. "Dying in the arms of a beautiful woman sounds like a pretty good way to go."
She laughed, but her attention drifted to his hair. Without thinking, she leaned in, tucking back a stray strand behind his ear and gently patting his head. "It fell on your face," she murmured, shaking her head. "You know, you should be careful what you wish for. You don't even know me."
"Are you dangerous?"
"I could be." She shrugged. "Who knows? You don't know me. I could be anyone."
"Then why do I feel like I do know you?" Chris's voice dipped into a soft, sexy drawl. There was something about the way he said it that made her stomach tighten.
Sammy quickly turned away, hoping he wouldn't notice the heat creeping up her cheeks.
"It's such a shame," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Handsome guys like you are always taken, yet you hit on other women and make us fall for you."
"So do youthink I'm handsome?"