He turned the steering wheel and accelerated a little too quickly.I looked up at him, which was a bit comical considering where my head was, and what was just a few millimeters away from it. “What are you doing?” I asked.“I have to have you. NOW,” he said, his face wild and furious, his eyes intent on the road.“Are we at the hotel?!” I asked, fear freezing my stomach.“No,” he said, his voice husky and low.“Ummm…”This was a little alarming.I pushed up on my arms and raised myself from his lap, then looked out the window, hoping to God nobody would see the worst cliché in the world: gorgeous guy in Lamborghini, disheveled chick rising up from his lap.We were away from the Strip and the crowds. I wouldn’t call where we were ‘seedy,’ but it wasn’t nearly as glitzy as the main drag. Not nearly as tacky, either. Vegas by night is a wonderland of lights; Vegas by day is a monument to excess and the question ‘Did they really think that would look good?’We were outside something that
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