Page 5 of Velvet Sin (Elite Men of Los Angeles #5)

DANTE

T hree months later

“All I have to say is there’d better be an open invitation to visit whenever we want.” Sebastian Kennedy waited until our server hurried off before lifting his glass in a toast. “To the Las Vegas location of Dante West’s newest and biggest club yet.”

I could drink to that. Three months of frenzied activity—planning, refitting a standing structure to suit my needs, meetings with decorators, interviewing new staff—had finally come to fruition.

“It’s been a roller coaster,” I announced, setting my glass down and looking around the table at the three men gathered there.

My Las Vegas investors, all of whom had made it possible for not only the club to open but for it to open under a quick deadline.

“They said it couldn’t be done, but here we are. ”

“Whatever it takes to capitalize on the vacuum Dick Jansen left behind when he pulled up stakes and left town.” Sebastian always struck me as the quiet, contemplative one in the group.

He and his longtime friends seated around me had first ventured into one of my establishments during an East Coast bachelor party a couple of years back.

We had just opened the New York location and were not requiring memberships to our first event.

Considering all of the men were still single, I guessed the wedding fell through, but our business relationship had grown from that point on.

“Dick who?” Grayson Daniels joked while swirling scotch in his glass. “Nobody’s going to remember his name now that Dante’s in town, reinventing the game.”

The others agreed, sipping their drinks while the lights from the strip filtered through the windows of the quiet, tasteful restaurant where we gathered to celebrate tomorrow night's opening.

I would be much too busy for this kind of thing tomorrow.

No matter how well everything was thought out, down to the last detail, something always came up at the last minute.

It was one of the few things I knew I could count on.

The impeccably smooth scotch went down harder than it should have after Grayson’s comment.

I didn’t find it as easy as they did to laugh at the prospect of Dick being forgotten.

I couldn’t blame them for it. They were all wildly successful in their own right, wealthy, and influential in their respective circles.

Young, too, early-to-mid thirties. The same as me.

It was clear none of them had ever spent a minute thinking about what was coming down the road in thirty or forty years. By the time I got to be Dick Jansen’s age, what would my name stand for? Would some new swinging dick come into town and wipe me off the map?

Vaughn Eastman interrupted my suddenly dark train of thought. “What I want to know is when are you getting a place out here? I understand you’re still staying in one of the Bellagio suites on nights you’re in town.”

Sebastian whistled like he was impressed. “That’s at least five grand a night, not that you can’t afford it.”

“How would you know where I’m staying?” I asked Vaughn with a surprised laugh.

He lifted a shoulder, playing at being mysterious. “I have my methods.”

“Which means he’s probably fucking the manager over there,” Aiden McConnell predicted.

“You’re giving him too much credit.” Grayson smirked, glancing my way and adding, “He’s more into the housekeeping staff.”

“Fuck off,” Vaughn growled out, and I laughed along with the rest of them.

It wasn’t often I had the chance to sit back and unwind a little.

Considering we were looking at a capacity crowd through the weekend and the amount of attention this opening would bring, I needed to unwind when I could.

I might not get another chance for a while.

After all, I couldn’t count on the presence of a mysterious, vulnerable beauty to help relieve my tension.

A beauty I’d looked for every night for weeks after our encounter, searching the monitors without realizing it more times than I could count.

Hoping. Why? To recapture whatever strange magic stirred to life between us, maybe.

I would’ve liked to see where we could have taken things.

And there I was, believing I had put childish beliefs behind me. All it took was a blonde stranger to show me how wrong I was. Her vague but potent memory stirred in the back of my mind as the guys planned their first visit while I silently reflected on how I let her get away.

“So…” Vaughn gestured toward me with his drink, “… when are you going to open the second club?”

I didn’t know whether he meant it as a joke or not. I certainly didn’t take it as one, setting what was left of my scotch on the table and lifting a shoulder. “I was thinking of giving this six months, building interest, gauging the market out here.”

Aiden stopped laughing. “Gauging the market? Enough with the modesty. Your club is going to be a destination.” He turned to Sebastian, his brow lifting. “Hey, come out to Vegas with me for the weekend. I’m going to fuck a few strangers at Dante West’s club.”

“That is my goal,” I agreed. “But you know I exercise caution. You wouldn’t be so comfortable giving me your money if you didn’t.”

“At the same time,” Vaughn countered. “Some investments are a slam dunk. This is one of them.”

“I can’t imagine a time when sex won’t sell,” Sebastian agreed. “Honestly, put me in my grave if that day ever comes since there won’t be anything worth living for.”

“And how are you gentlemen doing over here?“ Our pretty, perky server lingered near the table in passing, studying it for signs of needing service.

“Better now,” Sebastian replied with a slow smile. “What are you doing after your shift, Gretchen?” he asked after leaning in like he wanted to get a better look at her name tag.

She laughed, clicking her tongue as a flush touched the apples of her cheeks. “Now, Mr. Kennedy, we’ve had this talk already. You know I’m engaged.” She held up her hand, where a diamond ring sparkled.

He groaned. “Why do you have to remind me I let some guy snap you up before I could?” She shook her head again, chuckling as she departed.

“Have you fucked your way through the entire strip?” I asked.

“Please. I have standards.” When I lifted a brow, he laughed. “Fucking around and actual fucking are two very different things. A woman has to be more than a nice set of tits and a firm ass for me to stick my dick inside.”

“If your business ever goes under, you should write greeting cards,” Aiden suggested.

“Forget greeting cards. You could create inspirational memes,” Vaughn decided, making us laugh as we finished our drinks. Like me, they were busy men. There was only so much time to sit around and pat ourselves on the back.

They promised to attend the opening party tomorrow evening, shaking hands before I headed to the bar to settle the tab.

A handful of tourists hovered near the door, snapping photos and videos like it was their first restaurant.

They looked ridiculous, but no one would call them out.

Tourists kept the town running, after all.

By tomorrow, they’d be forgotten, replaced by a new batch.

“Mr. West? Here you go.”

The bartender, barely twenty-five, handed me the bill. Unlike in LA, he didn’t seem like someone waiting to pitch a screenplay. Just a kid doing his job.

A warm, soft female voice floated my way from the other end of the gleaming bar positioned along the far wall of the dining room.

“I’m sorry, we’re fully staffed at this time.

But please feel free to upload your résumé to our website, under the careers tab, so we can get in touch with you when there’s an opening.

” Then she shook hands with the woman she was trying to let down gently.

There were moments in life when time stood still. When the past and present overlapped in the most uncanny way. When things happened that were impossible to prepare for.

This was one of those moments. I stood at the bar, leaning against the polished brass rail for support, when my knees went out.

Impossible.

There was no fucking way.

The one person I was determined to avoid was the woman I told myself there would be no chance of running into in a city this size.

For a moment, I could barely manage to stand in one place and look at her.

I had seen her online, but over the past few months had made it a point to resist the impulse to track her activity.

The fact that I was generally booked solid in meetings, dinners, and phone calls helped a lot.

There was nothing like a rushed opening to improve a man’s discipline.

Besides, seeing her online was nothing compared to being in the same room as her, even a room as large as this one.

She didn’t see me, too busy being disappointed, her face falling.

Sure, she fought to hide it, but I noticed the quivering chin.

She never could hide anything from me. Ten years hadn’t changed that.

How could she be more beautiful than ever?

Time had turned her from a hot, fresh-faced kid to a gorgeous woman.

Chestnut locks framed her face, hanging just past her sculpted shoulders.

I already knew from my occasional social media stalking that she didn’t have kids, and if anything, her body was better than I remembered—tighter but full in all the right places.

I hadn’t touched her in a decade, which meant there was no explanation for the rush of possessiveness that forced the air from my lungs.

I had touched that body. Explored. I made her scream my name.

She had once pulled out some of my hair, losing control while I licked her clit.

How many times had that boring, sniffling little prick, Cameron, done that to her? Had he ever tried?