The Strip [antikvár]

Fucking a married man who traveled to Las Vegas on business was supposed to be fun, hot, and uncomplicated."Looking for these?"Gucci Marlowe glanced up.Nick Burke was twirling her Cosabella thong around his index finger, flashing a dimpled smile that made her want to forget the dead body she was leaving him for. Not fun."Keep them. As a souvenir." She scooted on her skin-tight jeans, stepped into a pair of snake-embossed ankle boots, and slipped a vintage Poison rock tee over her head.He made quite a show out of bringing her panties to his nostrils and inhaling them like an addictive drug. Not hot.Gucci vaulted into the bathroom to swipe on some lip gloss and to style her dark, shoulder-length mane away from the up-all-night-having-sex look.Suddenly, her gaze fell upon a loose photograph propped up against the mirror. Nick's kidstwo boys, both under ten. Very complicated.She wondered if they would grow up to do the same thing one day cheat on their wives. The same way that their father was cheating on their mother, the same way that Gucci s father had cheated on hers. Gripping the marble countertop, she zeroed in on her own reflection. Come on, Marlowe. Get your act together.One night during her regular game of craps at Caesars Palace,