Cat had definitely had her fill of playing games in her younger years, when it was more the accepted thing to do. She'd been with people in fun, frolicking relationships that were never meant to evolve into anything and others where things had gone wrong somewhere along the road. At some point, at least for her, she'd gotten to a point where it was just too tiring to keep having things turn out the same with every person you were with. It wasn't as if she'd run out wanting to get married, but an actual adult relationship had been sounding pretty good by the time she'd met Wes. Somehow things were working out for them so far, but there were no promises they'd stay that way. Maybe that was really the one game that remained in even the most understandable relationships - you never knew what was going to happen. One of them could wake up tomorrow and decide that it just wasn't working anymore, only time would tell.
Living in Vegas was an understandable way to get used to the more higher-end type of things. It wasn't as if the clubs there were hiring strippers that couldn't dance or weren't the hottest thing on a pole within five miles. And Cat had benefited from his taste in costly lingerie so far, there were no complaints there - it definitely seemed to be a mutually enjoyed outfit, after all. Maybe she'd have to return the favor, head into town to the little boutique she'd stumbled across and see what she could find this time around. Chances were it wouldn't be quite as amusing as the little costume he'd brought her back from break, but Cat was positive she could track down something he'd enjoy. Returning the favor was only fair, after all.
The evening spent with a tray of chocolate had definitely been a night Cat wouldn't object to repeating. They'd both definitely had fun that time, which had been obvious from their exhaustion the following day - that did tend to be the sign of a good time the night before. They hadn't moved beyond that particular dessert, but there was no rule that said they couldn't, or wouldn't, sometime in the future. Of course, right now the pair seemed a bit too busy to be worrying about what might or might not happen later - then again, a stripper giving you a lap dance tended to do that to a person. The rules at a time like this were very clear: look but don't touch. The dancer could touch you if she wanted, but your hands weren't to return the favor. As such, Cat sat beside Wes with one hand on his thigh, the other beside her on the bench as the redhead leaned over her, body moving against her own. It seemed she took instruction well, too, not at all afraid to get 'friendly' once Wes assured her it was ok. Fingers traced the neckline of Cat's dress, nails dragging lightly over the valley of skin between her breasts as she moved to straddle the chef's lap, one knee resting on the bench on either side of her.