A night in Vegas 1

Pearl’s POV

“You should do something reckless. Something that’ll make you blush in the morning,” Lisa said on the phone, her voice all playful provocation. “You’re in Vegas, babe. Surrounded by heat, lights, and men who don’t know your middle name. Your career will still be there tomorrow. Just… live a little.”

As soon as the call ended, her words echoed louder than the thump of the music downstairs.

She was right.

I’ve always played it safe. Always followed the rules, checked the boxes, smiled politely through the dullest parts of life. But tonight? Tonight, I wanted to be someone else—just for a little while. Someone wild. Someone unforgettable.

I slipped into a dress I almost didn’t pack—barely-there black satin that clung to my hips and dipped dangerously low in the back. I lined my lips in scarlet, let my curls fall loose, and didn’t bother with a bra.

Tonight, I wasn’t Pearl the responsible one. I was Pearl the fantasy.

The club was a blur of lights, bodies, and bass. I slid onto a barstool and ordered something strong without asking what it was. My eyes scanned the room as I took a sip—and that’s when I saw him.

He was lounging in a booth with friends, but his eyes… they were locked on me.

Dark. Confident. Curious.

And hungry.

He said something to his friends, barely glanced back, and walked straight toward me like I was the only thing that mattered.

“Pearl,” I said when he asked my name, heat curling in my belly from the way his gaze dropped to my lips.

“Luke,” he replied, offering a hand that felt too big and too warm and too promising. “Can I buy you another?”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I picked up a shot of tequila and licked the soft skin between my thumb and index finger, slow and deliberate. His eyes followed the motion like he was watching a striptease.

I sprinkled salt on the damp spot and held his gaze. “To bad decisions,” I whispered, raising the glass.

His lips twitched. “May we make plenty.”

We threw back the shots together, biting into lime slices like it was foreplay. The tequila left fire in my veins and courage in my chest.

“What?” I teased when he stared at me like I’d just undone his belt with my stare. “Did you expect me to flinch?”

Luke leaned in, his breath brushing my neck. “I think you’d surprise me in a lot of ways, Pearl.”

I grabbed his hand. “Come find out.”

We hit the dance floor, swallowed by music and bodies, but Luke made space—like the air bent around him. Around us.

At first, we moved slow, teasing. But the beat pulsed through me like a second heartbeat, and I gave in. My back met his chest, my hips grinding into him like we’d done this a thousand times. His hands slid to my waist—tentative, then tighter. Possessive.

His breath caught.

“You’re dangerous,” he rasped into my ear.

I turned, wrapping my arms around his neck, skin flushed and heart racing. “You have no idea.”

The lights danced across his sharp jaw and parted lips. His eyes, now almost black with want, stayed fixed on mine like he was trying to memorize my face.

“I should stay away from you,” he murmured.

“Why?” I asked, pressing closer, feeling his hardness against my stomach. “What could you possibly lose?”

Luke hesitated. Just a beat. Then his voice, rough and low: “Everything.”

Something in me softened. For one beat, this wasn’t just a game. He wasn’t just a man in a club. He was a man unraveling in front of me, caught in the same delicious trap.

And I didn’t want to break the spell.

His hand slid to my lower back, pulling me closer. His lips hovered over mine. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, voice cracked open.

“If you’re going to kiss me…” I trailed my fingers down his chest, over his belt. “Do it now. Before I ruin both of us.”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

I laughed—breathy, reckless. “Then don’t be.”

But just as he leaned in—

“Drinks!” the bartender yelled, placing another round in front of us.

And then a voice—Donovan, one of his friends. “You think you can outdrink us, sweetheart?”

I smirked, already reaching for another shot. “Watch me.”

One after another, I slammed the drinks, the burn barely noticeable now. Everything was louder, hotter, blurrier. But Luke’s gaze never wavered. He was watching me like he wanted to throw me over his shoulder and take me somewhere dark and private.

I stumbled slightly, and he caught me, arm steady around my waist.

“Maybe some water,” he offered again.

“Water is for people with regrets,” I shot back, grinning. “I don’t have any. Yet.”

The music slowed. Heavy bass. Darker tone. More… intimate.

I turned back to Luke, eyeing his lips.

I’d waited long enough.

I kissed him.

Hard.

Hungry.

His arms wrapped around me instantly, his mouth claiming mine like it belonged there. The taste of lime, alcohol, and pure heat flooded my senses. Our tongues tangled, breath fast and shallow. I moaned into his mouth when he bit my lower lip and slid his hand down to squeeze my ass.

He kissed like sin. Like promises. Like we wouldn’t make it out of this night alive and didn’t care.

When we finally broke apart, gasping, my lipstick was smeared across his mouth.

I licked it off with the tip of my tongue, slow and filthy.

“Jesus,” he growled.

“No,” I whispered, tugging his belt. “But I’ll make you see stars.”

The club was no longer enough.

I needed his hands on me. Everywhere. Now.

“Let’s do something stupid,” I said, pulling him toward the exit, heart pounding like a war drum.

We stumbled into the Vegas night, the city glittering behind us, and I knew without a doubt—

Tonight, I wasn’t going to sleep.

I was going to burn.