Chapter 23

Author’s Note: In some ways, this chapter begins the pinnacle of the Traffic Girl saga. A lot will happen in the next few chapters, and I thank you all for reading, voting, and commenting. It has been a joy to experience this with you.

Our Vegas weekend couldn’t have gotten off to a better start, and we hadn’t even left yet. James, Kat’s fiance, had lost his phone the first night of his bachelor party in Mexico. His contact with her would be limited. That meant our three nights in Vegas were largely going to be unfettered. The other pre-Vegas stroke of luck came with my Bellagio host, Nicole. She had come through with a two-bedroom villa. It was 6,500 square feet, had a private gym and massage room, a private pool and outdoor hot tub, and 24-hour butler service.

Much to my glee, I also had scored an invitation to Kat’s wedding. A handful of guys at my bank who had hung out with James regularly in the months leading up to it received them in the second wave of invites. It was delicious when Kat told me. She marveled at how I’d been able to get on the list. I told her it was only the first of many surprises that would come in the month leading up to her nuptials.

We rode in a limo to the airport for our Vegas adventure, drinking 1996 Krug and chatting with the ease of a couple, which I had started to realize is exactly what we were. Even if it was a non-traditional setup.

“You’ll never believe this,” Kat said suddenly, “but someone bought all our fine china place settings from the registry. All of them. All twelve!”

“I know,” I said casually and locked my eyes on hers with my warmest gaze.

“You did not,” she said, shaking her head but smiling.

“Of course I did,” I said.

“It’s so sexy to know you’re the one who got me the plates I’ll use on every special occasion,” she said. The wickedness underlying our affair was something equally delicious to us both.

I slid my hand behind her neck and pulled her to me. We kissed deeply.

“I love you,” I said, “and I want you to know that everything this weekend is a celebration of that. I really hope you like it.”

“Everything you do for me is perfect,” she said.

The flight in first class was uneventful, we caught a mild buzz on bad wine, and the Bellagio limo met us at baggage claim. But that was one wrinkle on this trip -- we didn’t have any bags. I told Kat she didn’t need to bring anything but her purse. She was excited that the Bellagio was our destination. We got handsy with each other a bit as the limo made its way up the Strip. We had arrived before lunch, so traffic was fairly light. Kat was surprised when we entered the Bellagio property and didn’t drive under the famous portecocher. Instead, the driver took us underneath the hotel.

Nicole greeted us there at the private entrance to the villas.

“Mr. Cameron,” she said formally, “I think you’ll find everything has been prepared in accordance with your instructions.”

“Thank you, Nicole,” I said. “I really appreciate your help. This is my guest of honor, Kat. Kat, this is Nicole, my host.”

Kat extended a less than enthusiastic hand, which Nicole shook warmly. I noticed a new addition to Nicole’s left hand.

“I see congratulations are in order!” I said.

Kat lit up when she noticed the gleaming, massive diamond ring. “Congratulations!” she said, apparently the hardware made her feel less threatened by the smoldering sexuality Nicole carried with her.

“Thank you,” Nicole said as we walked. “You’re probably as surprised as I was. But I’m not someone to let the right opportunity pass when it comes along. I feel so grateful.”

“You’ll have to send him our congratulations,” I said, wondering who in the last three weeks since I had seen her -- and fucked her -- had made the move.

At the villa, Nicole passed us off to our butler and told me to text her if there was anything we needed. The butler offered a tour, and I waved it off with two hundred-dollar bills. Kat and I wanted our time.

“John,” Kat said, dumbfounded, “this is beyond extraordinary!”

“I wanted something truly special for this weekend,” I said. “You can’t stay here without an invitation.”

“I’m guessing your invitation came from your host?” she said. I nodded. “I’d watch for her. She gives me terrible vibes.”

“You should,” I laughed. “Three weeks ago when I was out here, she didn’t even mention a boyfriend.”

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Kat said without accusation.

I looked her dead in the eye. “Yeah,” I said, “several times.”

She kissed me. “You really were willing to do anything to make this weekend a dream,” she said. “How was she?”

“Good,” I said. “Very good. A little mechanical, like it lacked emotion, but...” I let my voice trail off.

“It takes a lot to make me jealous,” she said. “I’m jealous of her. She’s very beautiful.”

“It was a transaction,” I said, playing it off. “We needed to get this villa.”

“Even if it meant fucking a hot piece of ass,” she teased.

We walked through the massive house-within-a-hotel. Five bathrooms. The private gym and massage room. Two bedrooms with king beds. A professional kitchen and large dining room. A wet bar that was stocked with two cases of Champagne, white Burgundy, and good red wine. The outside was the biggest draw. A full sitting area comprising lounge chairs and a marble coffee table sat beneath a canopy, while the expansive backyard included a pool and hot tub. The entire area was walled off. Not much of a view, and theoretically anyone in the hotel tower could look down on us, but it was intimate and perfect.

“I’m speechless,” Kat said, drinking it all in. “It’s exquisite. But I’m afraid of having to walk around naked everywhere since you wouldn’t let me bring clothes!”

I laughed again. I led us inside, popped a bottle of rosé Champagne, and took Kat to the bedroom. I opened a walk-in closet, and Kat squealed.

“John, this is too much!” she said.

Three cocktail dresses hung inside, each with a matching set of lingerie and pair of heels, as well as a matching butt plug. There were bathing suits, a robe, workout clothes, casual outfits, and loungewear.

“You’ll be naked a lot,” I said, “but I also wanted to ensure you looked the part.”

“And what part is that?” she inquired.

“Mine,” I said. We kissed again, tasting the superb Champagne on each other’s tongues.

My closet was similarly outfitted. I had gone all-in. As Kat stripped and changed into her robe, I opened the room to the safe using the passcode Nicole and I had agreed to. Inside was an embarrassing amount of the best cocaine available. I changed the safe’s code, removed the coke, and closed it again.

“One more surprise,” I said, admiring Kat’s smooth body as I held out the bag of coke.

“Holy shit,” she said, “that looks like it’s almost uncut.” She put her finger inside and got a small pinch from the cake-like cube. She crushed it up between her fingers and sniffed. “Oh, fuck me,” she said. “This is so pure. Like so pure we’ll have to be smart about how much we do!”

She gave me a little taste. Her assessment was spot on.

“Nicole really came through,” I said.

“I’m okay that you fucked her,” she said. “This villa and the coke? Worth my bit of jealousy.”

We kissed, only to be interrupted by the doorbell of the villa.

“There’s lunch,” I said.

I had arranged for us to have Picasso’s superb scallops with potato mousseline and veal jus delivered for us, to accompany a bottle of Montrachet. There were no limits to the indulgence I wanted on this trip.

We savored lunch. The wine, a 2002 Louis Jadot Le Montrachet, was exquisite. As we ate, I also let Kat in on some of our plans for the weekend.

“We have dinner at 8:30 tonight at Carbone,” I said. “That’s at Aria. Do you want to gamble?”

“Of course!” she said. “I’m yours, along for the ride. If you want to do blow and fuck nonstop for three days, I’m fine with it.”

“There will be plenty of that, don’t you worry!” I said. The positive energy rush from our surroundings and the flawless meal would be enough to sustain us for a while, but that’s not how Kat and I operated. We always pushed the envelope.

Two female attendants with model-quality good looks cleared our dishes away.

“I’m dying to do a line of this,” she said, pulling the coke out of her robe pocket. “It’s going to take some work to chop it up.”

“Take a look in the drawers in the bar,” I said. Kat looked at me curiously.

We walked to the bar, my hand cupping her butt, and I showed her. There was full paraphernalia, including a grinder.

“You can just grind it up, darling,” I said, beaming.

“Oh fuck, this is so next level,” she said, absolutely in heaven. She broke off a generous piece of flaky coke and put it into the contraption, which consisted of a grinder, cap, and sieve. As she leaned over the bar to prep our party favors, I pushed her robe up her hips.

“You do that,” I said, “and I’m going to do this.” I slid my cock into her pussy. It was soaking wet. She groaned but didn’t stop working on preparing the blow. I fucked her steadily. There was so much heat built up between us, I could feel the pressure rising in me already.

“I want to party nonstop this weekend,” Kat said. “Who knows when we’ll get the chance again.”

“We will,” I said. “You’re going to be speechless. Trust me.”

After several minutes, she had the lines prepared and snorted two for herself.

“Holy fucking shit,” she said. “This is so fucking good. Maybe the best coke I’ve ever had. And with your dick in me? God, I’m in heaven.”

“I want you fucked up and fucked all weekend long, babe,” I told her. My cock knew her so well. The angle against the bar counter was perfect to let my whole length slide against her clit.

“I’m so high and on fire right now,” she panted, her breath rapidly uneven. “I’m gonna ... I’m gonna fucking cum. Oh god!”

I didn’t stop the upward thrusts as we rode the wave of her orgasm. Her pussy made a pleasant squelching sound as I kept up the pace.

“Just cum in me so we can go gamble,” Kat urged me.

She started squeezing her cunt tightly and fondling my balls until I felt the unmistakable tingle.

“Come on, daddy, fuck your little coke whore,” she continued. “Give me that cum so you can make me bend over the craps table with sticky thighs. Let everyone see what a slut I am for you.”

I could feel the force of my cum shooting into her. It was like my cock erupted in rivets of sperm inside her. She moaned in pure bliss.

“That’s my good boy,” she said. “Give me that big load.”

The intensity of that first quickie gave us a ton of energy. So did the cocaine. I hit a couple lines after we got dressed, just before we went to hit the tables. Kat filled a bullet and vial for us to take with us. She wore a white tennis dress that showed a lot of thigh. We were showered and refreshed and ready to gamble.