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"Or do you?" She smiles, teasing.
My lips curl into a smile too. I like her teasing me. I like it too much.
We are on the same page here.
My shoulders fall in relief.
Daphne leads me to the club. At the moment, it's just a sign and a dark room. None of the joy people associate with a night out or the horror people associate with the Los Angeles airport. "If we really hit rock bottom, we can use this tonight." She slips the card into her pocket. "Until then, we've got another hour, and it's your turn."
So it is. I look her in the eyes, and I ask the question. "Daphne Webb, truth or dare?"
Chapter Nine
Jackson
Daphne smiles. "Oh, that's easy. Dare." She motionslet me have it. "Do your worst."
With limited time comes limited options. That means I need to make a choice. I can't tour the Stripandblow Daphne's mind.
Immediately, that image fills my head.
Daphne bent over the massive hotel bed, her tank top pressed to her neck, her shorts rolled to her knees, her back arching as she begs me to fuck her.
Where the fuck did this come from?
I'm not sixteen anymore. I don't lose myself in erotic fantasies.
I'm not horny twenty-four seven.
It's the desert air.
The stale, casino air.
The thrill of gambling.
Even if I found the blackjack game uninspiring.
Maybe the cultural idea of Las Vegas is infecting my mind. Even here, in the path between the Luxor and Excalibur, even though it looks like an airport.
The sun shines through the windows.
The black glass of the Luxor and the gold of the Mandalay Bay glow in the rearview.
Daphne follows me with curious eyes, assuming I know where we're going.
I don't.
I do okay on the fly, but I do better with careful planning. A list of the best bars, top attractions, most exciting shows.
We only have an hour. I have this plan to visit the Strip.
Which means I need to find a spot soon. We're in Las Vegas. There are three main reasons why people come here. Gambling. Booze. Sex.
We tried the first.
The last is out.
That leaves alcohol.
