One of her hands convulsed in his hair, tugging it. The other one started gliding down his spine.

Olivia shut up.

So Nick took his time and made love to her.

* * * * *

6:56 – Saturday Evening

Nick in a suit, no tie, and Olivia in heels and a little black dress that he liked a fuckuva lot, walked out of the elevators at the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Vegas.

They barely hit the public space when three guys walking by them slammed into each other as their eyes remained glued to Liv when she and Nick passed.

Nick looked from the men down to the woman he held close in his arm.

She was oblivious.

Nick was smiling.

They walked right out the front.

They got in a taxi.

And for the first time, Nick took his woman out to dinner.

* * * * *

11:58 – Saturday Night

Her ass on a velvet couch beside him, but most of her weight pressed up against him in a bar that felt suspended in a cocoon of crystals, her eyes carefree and happy, Olivia announced, “I need another cocktail.”

She was beyond tipsy, heading straight to shitfaced.

Nick didn’t mention that to his girl.

He looked across the space, caught the waitress’s eye and jerked up his chin.

He felt Liv’s hand at his stomach sliding across and he tipped his head down to look at her again.

“Thanks, baby,” she whispered.

He didn’t reply.

Instead, he drank in that look in her eyes, feeling her pressed tight beside him.

That was his.

He’d earned that.

After he gave himself that moment, he took what he earned, tipped his head down and kissed her.

When he released her mouth and looked back at her face, he knew that wasn’t enough.

So the next party that passed by, a couple, he stopped them.

“Sorry,” he said. “But can you get a picture?”

The guy with his girl looked to Nick, then to Liv, and nodded, taking Nick’s phone that he’d engaged the camera and was offering.

“How fun! Vegas memories,” Olivia cried. Her arm already wrapped around his stomach, she burrowed closer.

The guy smiled, his girl smiled. He aimed, touched the button and gave Nick back his phone.

“Have a good night, bud,” he said as he put his arm back around his woman and started to lead her away.

His woman waved.

Olivia kept snuggled to him but waved back.

“Thanks, man,” Nick muttered and looked down at his phone.

Olivia again burrowed in.

“Ooo, sweetheart,” she cooed. “That’s a good one.”

It wasn’t, she was wrong. The first picture of them wasn’t good.

It was brilliant.

Olivia tucked tight to his side, her head tipped back, her cheek resting along the underside of his jaw, a big smile on her face you couldn’t miss even if you could only see half of it.

Nick had his arm around his girl, looking at the camera, smiling right at it.

They looked carefree. They looked happy.

She looked carefree.

She looked happy.

Yes. It was brilliant.

The waitress delivered her cocktail.

“Awesome,” she murmured, leaning toward it.

Nick nodded at the waitress.

Having nabbed her drink, Liv leaned back and caught Nick’s eye.

“I think it’s time to gamble,” she declared before taking a sip.

He grinned. “Whatever you want, Livvie.”

She grinned too before she swung her drink to the side, reached her mouth up to his and touched it.

Her eyes a hint away, she whispered, “Let’s go, Nicky.”

They went. He took her exactly where she wanted to go. He did anything she wanted to do.

He gave her everything it was in his power to give.

And he’d keep doing it, in Vegas, in Denver, on the moon if they landed there.

Just to keep his girl carefree.

And happy.

* * * * *

3:32 – Sunday Morning

The Do Not Disturb sign was again on the door.

Nick was slightly inebriated.

Livvie was smashed.

After dinner and then after dinner cocktails, Nick had lost three thousand dollars at craps.

After Nick dropped that load, Liv had won three hundred dollars at the slots.

She crowed.

She also rubbed it in.

So when the door to their room closed behind them, Nick set about evening out their night’s score.

In took him a while, and as usual, she didn’t play fair.

This time, he didn’t either.

But it was a game he knew she didn’t want to win.

So when he got her naked on her belly in their bed, he shoved a hand between her legs, cupping her pubic bone. Kneeling at her side, he yanked her up to her knees, ass in the air, as he held her down with a firm but gentle hand wrapped around the back of her neck.

He then moved his hand from between her legs and reached to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer.

In it was a short-handled paddle made of cushioned, soft brown leather that he’d brought with him and put there when she wasn’t looking.

He took it out and rubbed it along her ass.

He heard her soft gasp, but she didn’t move nor did she protest.

He buried a grin.

Fuck, she was so his.

Time for her to admit it.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

She pushed against his hand at her neck and pressed her ass into the paddle.

He landed it across her cheeks. The crack rent the air. Her hips jerked then her legs locked but Nick could still see them trembling.