A/N: This story is slash, so if you're not a fan, feel free to stop reading now. This is dedicated to my BFF Christy for encouraging my smutty hobby, and to Stu, who let me get him drunk and ask ridiculously inappropriate questions about his sex life... yeah, for the story, sure... You guys rock! Also, a quick shout-out to Alex and Corey for unwittingly inspiring this little plot bunny...

And a huge thank you to my awesome beta, cocoalvin, who is amazingly patient with my comma-h00ring ways, and did a great job whipping this story into shape! Any typos or grammar errors from the final edit are mine alone.

On Twitter? Come play with me - mrsbeasff!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except a slightly unhealthy love of playing blackjack.

I have always loved Vegas.

People visited the city for a couple of days, engaged in outrageous, and generally brainless, behavior, then returned to their boring, respectable lives, as if nothing happened. You could turn into a douchebag, act like a whore, experiment with drugs and no one would blink an eye.

However, on this trip to Vegas I would be attending the Consumer Electronics Show on behalf of Clearwater Funds, where I worked as an analyst, which meant that there would be very little of that excitement for me. There's not much that's debauched about the CES, unless you count a bunch of nerds jizzing in their pants over the Android Tablet as a perverse form of entertainment.

On that particular weekend, in an ironic twist of scheduling fate, the event coincided with the AVN Awards, also known as the Adult Video News Awards although I'm not entirely sure what news has to do with it. Porn stars and nerds descended upon Vegas, and both groups were looking to reward the best in their respective fields while simultaneously trying to find the next big thing. The nerds salivated over obscenely large-breasted, fake-tanned women in barely there dresses and occasionally, one would come home with a story of actually sleeping with one of them.

Of course, no one believed them.

In any case, the AVNs did nothing for me, because last I checked, there was no category for best anal. Actually, there was, but a woman was required to be included.

Like I said, did nothing for me.

I was simply there to take a look at various new electronics product offerings being showcased and decide if they might create enough of a boost in their respective company's balance sheet to cause a significant rise in the price of the stock. If so, I'd give it a buy recommendation.

It was much less exciting than a trip to Vegas should be.

Walking through the airport terminal, you could practically see the repressed sexual energy buzzing in the air. On the short flight from San Francisco to Las Vegas the party had already begun, and on a Tuesday evening, no less. Nerds were downing Jack and Cokes on the flight like they were going out of style and comparing smartphones as if they represented dick size.

I kept my nose buried in a spreadsheet.

Upon arrival, I quickly checked into my room at the Mandalay Bay Hotel, and took a little time to relax before facing my co-workers. A team building dinner was scheduled at eight o'clock, and as the time neared I showered and donned my business casual best: dark gray suit, white button down shirt, black shoes, no tie. Grabbing my wallet, I took one last look in the mirror before making my way to Aureole, the seafood restaurant located in the hotel.

Arriving a few minutes early, I waited for the others at the bar, taking a moment to text my friend and fellow analyst, Bella Swan, to find out if she was on her way. Working in the incredibly conservative field of finance, I just happened to be closer to Bella than the other guys in the office. One of the reasons being, that they seemed to be stuck in a perpetual state of frat life.

Of course, it worked for them because much of this industry continued to function like an old boys' club. Most company research trips that we attended included expensive dinners, late night drinks, cigars, and an occasional trip to a club. But, I preferred to keep a clearly defined line between my work life and social life. To be honest, I didn't know what these guys would do if, while they were at a bar trying to pick up chicks, I was making out with some dude in the corner. They may have felt uncomfortable.

Just a bit.

Bella understood, because it had been pretty difficult for her to break into the club as well, but for very different reasons. Since she was a woman, people always assumed she was a secretary or an assistant, when in reality, she was better at this job than ninety percent of the guys on our payroll. Yes, the double standard was alive and well, in case there were any concerns that it may have disappeared.

Placing my order for a Johnnie Walker Black on the rocks, I had only taken a small sip before hearing the raucous laughter of my co-workers.

"Hey, Eddie!" yelled Mike Newton, clear across the restaurant, waving, as if I could have possibly missed him.

I'd lost count of how many times I'd asked him not to call me that and haven't quite decided if he does it simply to annoy me, or out of camaraderie. Either way, I'd prefer that he didn't. Is it really that difficult to sound out two syllables? Bella had become Bells, Tyler was Ty, and James was, well, still was just James.

They came over to the bar and ordered drinks as we waited for Bella to arrive.

"Man," started Mike. Ah, yes, we were about to be imparted with some words of wisdom here. "Why are chicks always late? Is it physically impossible for them to read the hands on a watch? Maybe they should be required to wear digital."

Unfortunately, at least for Mike, he didn't notice that Bella had arrived, and was silently standing behind him, bitch brow cocked. The funny thing was, we all knew that Mike had a crush on Bella. If she ever wore her hair in pigtails to the office, he'd be first in line to give one a yank, then run away and hide.

"Pleasure to see you as well, Mike." His face blanched. "Sorry for the delay, it took a little longer than I expected getting an appointment for a Brazilian at the hotel spa. Shall we sit?" she asked, smiling sweetly, knowing she succeeded in both embarrassing and turning him on at the same time.

She then turned and walked away, letting the hostess know to move the bar tab over to our table. Everyone followed obediently, while I snickered under my breath. That girl could pull all these guys in line faster than a nun with a switch.

Following a delicious meal where we mostly discussed what exhibits we planned to see tomorrow, Bella and I told the group that we were going to call it a night, while they headed out to the hotel casino. Or so they said. Chances were that hotel casino was code for strip club. As soon as they were out of sight, I turned toward Bella and asked, "So, really, what are we going to do now that the frat party has left?"

"Hmmm…" she said, "should we head over to another hotel to have a drink? I don't want to be out too late tonight, but could handle another round."

"Yes. Bellagio?" I asked.

"Lead the way, sir."

A short cab ride later, we were sitting in the bar discussing Bella's love life. Or rather, lack of. Not that I was currently in any better position than she was. I couldn't even remember the last time I went on a date. Not to mention a good date. Or second date.

"So, I don't know what to do about Jake," she whined. "Is he ever going to get the hint and ask me out? He's so fucking hot, but not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, you know?"

I'm sure that Bella continued to talk, I was aware of her voice humming in the background, but when a man standing over her shoulder caught my eye, I stopped hearing anything she said. He was fucking gorgeous. Tall, with blond wavy hair, and a wide smile stretched across his lightly tanned face. His pale blue v-neck sweater fit perfectly across his chest, hinting at the trim physique underneath. The jeans he wore hugged his ass beautifully and…

"Edward!" Bella snapped her fingers in front of my face, causing me to blink rapidly as my vision refocused to her. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

She turned in the direction I had been staring and let out a low whistle, while my cheeks burned at getting caught ogling this man. "Wow," she said. "Do you think he's gay?"

"Considering what's going on here this week? He's totally straight, I'm sure. Although, he's got to be the hottest nerd I've ever seen."

"That's for fuckin' sure," she responded, smiling. "Screw Jake. Maybe I should try my luck with him."

Looking at my watch, I told her, "Sorry to rain on your parade, sweetheart, but we're officially up past our bedtime. We should get back before we turn into a couple of pumpkins."

"Ugh, fine, Cullen. I didn't realize we were hanging out in the no fun zone of Vegas. Lame."

"You'll thank me tomorrow morning when you don't have a hangover while listening to some nerd extolling the benefits of operating in The Cloud," I laughed. "Let's go." I snuck one last peek over to the table where the beautiful man sat, then Bella and I hopped into a cab and made our way back to our rooms.

Once in bed, I was unable to turn my mind off and go to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I pictured that guy, which led to a problematic situation in my boxers. It was ridiculous, I mean, I hadn't even spoken to him. With a slightly frustrated sigh, I decided to take care of the problem and got up to grab some lube out of my bag.

Just because I was in Vegas to work, didn't mean that I shouldn't be prepared, right?

Squeezing some lube into my right hand, I coated my dick, closed my eyes, and let the fantasy unfold. I imagined him crawling up the bed, settling between my thighs and whispering, "Edward, do you want me to suck your cock?"

I could practically feel his warm breath blowing across my skin.

"Yes!" I begged.

Running his tongue from base to tip, he would stop to flick the sensitive fold of skin below my head as I watched him. Then, he would take me into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around the tip, before lowering his mouth down my shaft, farther and farther, until I hit the back of his throat.

Mmm… so fucking good.

But I was too turned on to continue with a detailed fantasy. It was time to get this done, quick and dirty. I grasped my dick with both hands, and started thrusting into my slick fists.

I imagined that I was fucking his mouth, and he took every inch of my cock down his throat, over and over, while my fingers tangled in his blond curls.

Focusing on the tip with my right hand, I started to twist my wrist slightly on each pass. Fuck, I was already so close. I moaned loudly as the tight coil of tension in my lower belly released, my shoulders lifting off the bed as I painted my chest with cum.

Christ, that felt fucking good.

It must've been some sort of record for fastest jerk-off. Not that I was proud of that, but luckily I didn't have anyone to impress with my sexual prowess that evening. Letting out a deep breath, I took a moment to let my heart rate calm before heading into the bathroom to clean up. When I climbed back into the bed, I barely remembered to set the alarm before falling asleep.

~O~

The next morning, I met Bella for breakfast before we headed to the show. As we walked in, I scanned the crowd, slowly taking in my surroundings. There was an excited buzz humming though the hall and the sheer number of people filling the convention center was almost overwhelming. Thankfully, I had taken time to map out the locations of the booths I wanted to visit beforehand, so I knew where I was going, rather than wandering around the room like a deer in headlights like most of the nerd herd.

As we stood at one of the Sony booths listening to a rep discuss some new developments in 3D technology, I heard Bella mutter, "No fucking way," and noticed her looking at something behind me. When I turned to find out what she'd spotted, I knew instantly what she was referring to.

It was the gorgeous guy from last night.

Dressed in a casual outfit of gray wool trousers with a trim cut, showing off his finer, um, assets, along with a blue button down dress shirt.

Oh, unf.

He was talking to some guy but must have felt our eyes on him, because his head quickly darted in our direction to catch us staring. When he made eye contact with me, I stood frozen in place by the most vibrant, piercing baby blues I'd ever seen. Of course, Bella had to draw more attention to us by laughing loudly as I blushed and looked away, mortified at getting caught. But not before I saw him smirking.

The important question being, was the smirk for me or Bella?

Shaking my head, I turned back to Bella. "I swear you're the least subtle person I've ever met."

"Oh, lighten up, Edward. That was hilarious," she retorted, still snickering.

I responded with a nasty look, as my cheeks continued to burn.

Peeking back in his direction, I tried to make eye contact again, but he was already walking away from us to the next booth. Well, at least I could now stare at his ass shamelessly.

A few hours later, we headed back to the hotel. Dinner was with the group again tonight, and rested in the room for a bit before we met up.

We discussed our opinions on some of the products we'd seen today over another delicious meal and again the guys went out to do lord knows what, while Bella and I ended up back at the Bellagio.

What?

It was my favorite casino, and I planned to do a little gambling on this trip. It had nothing to do with possibly seeing that gorgeous man again.

Nope.

Who was I kidding? We stopped at the bar for a drink while I slyly searched the vicinity for the blond. But, no such luck. He was nowhere to be seen, so I went to peruse the blackjack tables, while Bella spent some quality time with a video poker machine.

The casino was packed, but I spied an empty seat across the room. The table looked fun, with players cheering and high-fiving each other, so I walked over, draped my jacket across the back of a chair, and introduced myself to the group. After about an hour of playing, Bella tracked me down to let me know she was going back to the hotel, warning me not to stay up too late. Players came and went and I was about to call it a night along with the gentleman vacating the seat next to me, but decided to play just one more hand.

Greatest decision ever.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and a shiver ran down my spine when a smooth voice, carrying a light Texas twang, asked, "Is this seat taken?" As I looked up to see who could possibly be the bearer of that seductive drawl, my eyes opened wide in surprise.

Holy fuck. It's him.

Quickly composing myself, I answered, "Nope, it's all yours," and flashed a smile in his direction.

The table was full, so when he sat next to me, his chair was so close that his leg brushed against mine. When he left it there, I couldn't if it was on purpose or not.

"Hey ya'll," he started. "How's the table been tonight?"

A girl from the opposite side of the table chimed in, "Oh, it's been up and down, but I have a feeling you'll be bringing us some luck." She was practically leering at him and I felt an irrational stab of jealousy.

"I'll do my best, darlin' " he responded, with a wink. Was he flirting with her? I couldn't tell. My gaydar had never been quite this confused before and it was driving me fucking nuts. I didn't think my alcohol-induced buzz was helping to clarify the matter either.

As we put our bets out for the next hand, he turned toward me and said, "Hi, there. I'm Jasper. Jasper Whitlock." God, his drawl was so fucking sexy.

"Pleasure to meet you, Jasper." I loved the way his name sounded, rolling off my tongue. It was so unusual. "My name's Edward Cullen."

"Edward, the pleasure is all mine." His knee pressed into mine. Shit, now was he flirting with me? I couldn't be sure.

Barely looking at the table, we both stayed on our crappy hands with the dealer showing a five. The dealer busted. Seemed like the table was getting lucky, indeed.

"Edward, you're here for the CES?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Busted. He must've remembered me from the Sony exhibit earlier.

My cheeks flushed pink, and I fumbled through my answer. "Um, yes. I'm an, uh, analyst for the tech sector in my company. You?"

"I'm attending… more as a fan. Christ, that sounded nerdy," he laughed in a deep, rumbling tone. Fuck, even his laugh was sexy.

I smiled at his admission as we placed another bet. "Where are you from, Jasper?"

"Los Angeles. I drove out yesterday. You?"

"San Francisco. What do you do out there?"

He started to reply, "I work in the film industry," but before he could continue, the dealer interrupted, asking if Jasper wanted to take a hit. He declined.

The dealer busted again, and Jasper clapped his hand on my back as we cheered with the rest of the table. When he pulled his hand back, it dragged across my shoulder and down my arm, causing a wake of goose bumps to follow its path.

I'm sure he noticed my shiver.

A few rounds later, I checked my watch and was surprised to find that it was almost midnight. Shit. I had to get to bed, but there was no way I could leave now before finding out if he might be interested in me. As I was debating what both my dick and I wanted to do—stay with Jasper—against what the responsible thing was—return to the hotel and sleep—something brushed against my thigh. To my right, Jasper's eyes were facing forward and his hand rested on his leg, but there was an undeniable smirk crossing his face.

Sure, it could've been a mistake, but I was pretty sure that he brushed me on purpose this time.

Emboldened by the prospect, I lightly nudged Jasper's arm to get his attention while the dealer passed out the next round of cards. When he turned toward me, I leaned in closely, letting my breath wash over his skin, and asked, indicating toward his cards, "I just wanted to get your opinion on twelves. Are you the kind of guy who always hits, never hits, or goes with his gut?"

"Well," he responded lowly, stretching his arm around the back of my chair and turning into me, "You know they call twelves the dealer's ace." I laughed as he continued. "If the dealer's showing a two and you assume a twelve, there is still a seventy percent chance that the next card will not bust them. Now, I'm a bit of a gambler by nature, but the laws of probability rely on consistency. I'm never one to shy away from a challenge though, so I always hit." My nose was practically nuzzled into his neck, and his subtle, masculine scent of citrus and wood threatened to intoxicate me. My lips were so close to his face that if I turned just slightly the scratchy skin of his jaw would be within reach of my tongue.

"Sir?" The dealer interrupted the train of my thoughts.

"Case in point." he said, removing his arm from my chair and lightly stroking the felt of the table with his middle finger. A nine. "Scared money never wins, Edward," he commented with a wink.

He was fucking killing me.

Again, I felt his fingers brush against me as his hand settled back on his leg. This time though, they remained, the back of his fingers brushing back and forth against my leg as he stroked the side of his thigh. I knew this game. If I moved away, he could claim that it was an accident.

Instead, I let my leg fall open farther, pressing into him and with a sideways glance I confirmed a smile on his face. He let his hand drift to the top of his own leg, pushing the tips of his fingers over to mine. When he saw that the gesture was welcome, he continued moving his hand so that his palm rested on my leg, fingertips now grazing the inside of my knee.

It appeared that the question of his sexuality had finally been answered and my dick began to harden immediately in response. As we were being dealt a fresh round of cards Jasper dragged his hand further up my leg. The dealer was coming around the table asking each player if they would like to hit or pass and I couldn't even find it in me to care when some idiot stayed on fifteen against the dealer's seven. I didn't care about anything other than how fucking hot it was that Jasper was touching me this way, in front of all these people. My dick was now fully hard, inches away from his fingertips as he took a card. Then the dealer turned to me.

At the exact moment that he said, "Congratulations, Sir," Jasper let his pinkie graze the tip of my cock, causing me to gasp loudly.

I hadn't even noticed the blackjack in front of me. Luckily, everyone else at the table thought I was gasping at my hand. That couldn't have been further from the truth.

I didn't give a shit about the fucking blackjack.

Jasper then turned to me and said, "Nice job," lightly brushing his fingers back and forth over the head of my dick.

How can he be so fucking composed right now?

I pulled back my winnings, no longer caring about the game. At the same time, Jasper turned toward the dealer and asked, "Hey, buddy, can you color me up?"

"Yeah, me too," I jumped in. "Got to be up early for the show tomorrow," I added, peeking toward Jasper out of the corner of my eyes.

We took our chips and stepped away from the table as I wondered aloud, "Where do you think the cashier is in the place?"

Instead of answering, Jasper stepped in close and said, "Edward, come upstairs with me."

There was no hesitation in my voice when I responded, "Okay."

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