Page 82 of The Tryst List
“Ohmyfuckinggod.” Jordan floods me, squeezing my cock as she comes.
I'm right there with her, erupting as I fall over the edge. Jordan collapses on top of me. After a few deep breaths, I'm able to speak. “Are you okay, baby?”
“More than okay.” Her voice is dreamy as she melts into me. “As okay as you can get.”
“I'd love to cuddle you and sleep for a bit, but we're probably landing any minute. Let's get cleaned up.” I kiss her temple but make no effort to move.
She brings my palm to her belly. “Are you gonna tell me where we are? I mean, we obviously haven't gone too far.”
“I'll give you one clue. I thought it was high time we returned to the scene of the crime.” I stifle a laugh.
“Scene of the crime?” She looks up, confused. “I have pregnancy brain. Riddles aren't fair.”
I trace her hairline with my finger. “I'm pretty sure this one will come to you. It's not difficult.”
Jordan pushes herself up to a seated position and tucks her feet under her. Tries to open up the little porthole window, but I catch her wrist. “No cheating.”
“You're so mean.” She harumphs. Crosses her arms over her luscious tits.
I get up and toss her clothes to her but hold up her panties on one finger. “These, I'm keeping with me.”
We dress as she mumbles to herself, “Scene of the crime. Scene of the crime.”
I know she's figured it out when her eyes widen dramatically.
“Vegas. We're in Vegas.” She pushes on my shoulder. “Peter!”
I pull her into my arms. “You hit the jackpot, baby.”
Little does she know, today's surprises have only begun.
Chapter thirty-four
Jordan
A Few Minutes Later
I have no idea what to expect.
The private jet comes to a smooth stop on the tarmac and the thrill of Peter’s surprise fills me with a childlike excitement. I glance over at him, hoping for any hint of our plans, but he remains delightfully mysterious.
And smug.
Peter helps me down the steps as we disembark, a warm breeze at our back, and I catch sight of a driver dressed in a black suit in front of an elegant electric Bentley. “You’re too much,” I say as we approach the car. “You’re driving me crazy with all this secrecy. Can’t you give me a tiny clue about what you’ve planned?”
His eyes twinkle with mischief. “Where’s the fun in that, baby? You’ll find out soon enough. For now, it’s on a need-to-know basis.”
I swat him as we settle into the buttery leather seats. “Are we staying at the Venetian? Going to a private residence? Come on, give me something.”
“Nope.” Peter shakes his head, feigning a stern look. “Not a word. You’ll have to wait and see.”
Our car glides through the streets, its electric engine whisper-quiet, as we make our way toward the unknown destination. My anticipation is almost tangible, which I realize is part of Peter’s plan. I try a different tactic. “Okay, how about a hint? Are we going somewhere we’ve been before?”
“I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.” He slings his arm around my shoulder.
Nothing prepares me for the awe-inspiring sight that greets us as we arrive at The Mansion at the MGM Grand. Even from the outside, its discreet façade whispers of the opulence that lies within. I’ve heard about it—both my pops and brother have stayed before—I'm psyched to take in the art.
“Wow, Peter, this place…it’s like another world!” I can’t help but gawk at the grand entrance, and I've seen my share.