Sin City Seduction

by Margot Radcliffe

  His lips went fully in then, taking hers in a searing kiss that had her leaning against him on tiptoes. He picked her up and sat her on the table again, but she immediately slid off and gave him a speaking glance.

  “Your employees will be here any second,” she reminded him, and even though she wasn’t an actual employee she wasn’t going to just make out with him where anyone could see.

  “I’m the boss,” he continued without a shred of embarrassment, “and I like access.” He nudged his mouth against hers again, waiting for her to grant him said access. Then he nuzzled her cheek until his lips reached her ear. “And by that I mean, I want video access when I call.”

  “I’m not your sex dummy, just available to fornicate whenever you please,” she informed him, her head bending back to glare at his eyes. He was very large and sometimes she forgot, but crowded against the table she couldn’t even see beyond his wide shoulders, which was grounding.

  He ignored her, leaning down to nuzzle her neck again, and she couldn’t help bending to the side to give him just want he wanted, better access. Lazy tingles of pleasure rose up on her skin like happy reminders of what he could do to her body.

  “I don’t want a sex dummy anyway,” he murmured against her ear, his breath warm. “I thought one night would do it, but I was wrong.” He drew small kisses back down the side of her neck.

  “Come over tonight,” he coaxed, his hand running up her rib cage.

  She was definitely in danger of getting addicted to him, alarm settling in her belly at the thought. His big hand spanned her back as he gathered her into him and she would have given him whatever he’d asked. Luckily, what he wanted was something she wanted, as well.

  “Yeah, I’ll come over,” she told him. “But it’ll be nearly midnight before I get out of here. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

  “Are you insinuating I’m too old to be up that late?”

  She shrugged. “I would never.”

  “You better be ready, sweetheart, because you’ll be tired, but I’ll still be demanding.”

  “So will I,” she said, pushing at his chest as an employee entered the kitchen, but he didn’t let go of her. It was as if he was already staking his claim and it sent shivers but also more trepidation sliding through her. The kid waved and then made his way to the employee lounge to clock in.

  “That’s my girl,” Hugh murmured, the hand on her back drifting down to give her ass a powerful grip before letting her go completely.

  “Excuse me,” she choked, staring threateningly at him.

  He just stuck his tongue in the side of his cheek and lifted one Hercules-esque shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. “Couldn’t help it.” He grinned. “I like that ass.”

  “Just go get the stuff I need for prep,” she ordered, pointing an authoritative finger to the pantry.

  He waggled his thick eyebrows, the one with a slash in it drawing her eye as he obeyed and disappeared from the kitchen. She’d seen a lot of scars on his body last night but hadn’t wanted to ask about them. And honestly, had more important business to attend to besides dredging up old memories that might be unpleasant for him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

  Pulling on an apron from the rack on the wall, she mentally prepared herself for a rough night. She’d worked her fair share of years as a line cook in restaurants in Chicago and New York, as sous chef and eventually head chef for a famous Manhattan restaurateur, so she knew the toll it took on the body. It wasn’t the only reason she’d left the kitchen, but a big one along with needing to be at home for her dad more. She enjoyed not having traditional hours and backbreaking work, but she was excited to cook for people again.

  She went back to the prep room where Hugh and the other employee, whose name tag read Doug, were chopping up a mountain of onions.

  “You located the prep sheet then?” she asked pointedly.

  “No,” Hugh drawled, his voice muffled under the red handkerchief covering the bottom half of his face. A pair of oversize goggles covering his eyes, he looked so ridiculous and yet she’d never been attracted to him more. “I just decided to kill myself cutting a million onions for the fun of it.”

  Her lips thinned in irritation, which made him grin. Turning on her heel, she went to the pantry and he followed.

  “Fuck, this is harder than I thought,” he said, stopping with her at the door. “I can’t believe we have to do this tonight and I wasted all day not being naked with you.”

  She playfully shoved him out of the way and they entered the pantry. “If you give me sex eyes all night, I’m going to pour hot barbecue sauce on your head. I have work to do. Don’t make it any harder than it’s already going to be.”

  Picking through the various ingredients, she piled a few items in her arms.

  “That just gives me more ideas. I’d love to lick barbecue sauce off of you and would be more than pleased if you’d do it to me.”

  She threw the orange she’d been holding at his chest, but he caught it in midair before it made contact.

  At her surprised look, he deadpanned, “I was an elite athlete.”

  Shaking her head, she asked, “So do you have a preference on what specials are served?”

  “No, but you don’t have to do all that anyway. I just need somebody to run the kitchen tonight. All I’ve got are a bunch of line cooks who wouldn’t know management or fine dining if it bit them on the ass.”

  “Oh, no, I want to cook the specials. I want to show your customers good food for a change,” she joked, to which he responded with a playful scowl.

  She shooed him back to the prep room while she checked out the refrigerators, where she found that some fresh fish had come in with the current day’s date on it. By the time she’d planned and gathered ingredients for her dishes, it was nearly time to open.

  “You ready?” Hugh barked, entering the kitchen with buckets of prepped vegetables. She shook her head, ears virtually throbbing in pain.

  “Do you know how to speak at a normal volume?”

  “Was that not normal?” he asked with mock innocence. “I’m trying to get you pumped up, Jones. Gonna be a long night, gotta stay alert.”

  “There’s only one quarterback in this kitchen tonight and that’s me, Matteson,” she reminded him, pointing her thumb at her own chest.

  That got him, a wide smile cracking his tanned face as he saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Just go do something useful,” she directed, not in the mood to banter with him. She had a kitchen to run.

  After introducing herself to the kitchen staff, she started on the waitstaff. She explained her two specials in detail and then got to work running orders for the line cooks, which basically meant making sure the dishes for each table got ready at similar times so that some weren’t waiting under the heat lamp and drying out.

  When a special order came in, she got to work cooking, and as the night progressed she found herself cooking more and more specials and leaving Hugh to expedite on his own. He was an absolute natural at it since it was basically a management position where he could make sure the dishes were being prepared correctly and sent out on time. Directing and barking instructions all night in that near-deafening voice was driving her insane, but she’d bet money that dishes had never made it to customers so quickly.

  He was charming, too, following every direction with a compliment and every instruction with encouragement. By the end of the night, she allowed that she had a healthy dose of respect for him. They’d made a good team in a pinch, but she hoped like hell it was her last night in a kitchen for a long time.

  Lights out and everyone gone, she pulled a stool from under the stainless steel island and slipped off her sneakers with a sigh of relief.

  Hugh came back into the kitchen and smiled when he saw her. “There she is, MVP of the night.”

  Leaning b
ack against the table, she looked up at him, too tired to even smile. “How are you still this energetic?”

  “I got a lot of breaks in and being back here was pretty cool. I do my walk-throughs and stuff, but I was pretty ignorant about how a kitchen really works. I had fun bossing people around again.”

  “You were a good expediter. You have a real future in kitchen management.”

  He laughed. “Let me take you to my house, Parker. You look hot and sweaty, which we both know I’m into, but also exhausted. My hot tub will get you fixed up.”

  She didn’t have the strength to deny what she wanted so she nodded.

  “What are you doing?” she yelped when he scooped her up into his arms as if she were a child and not a grown woman.

  “You’re dead on your feet. I’m carrying you to the car.”

  Instead of arguing, her head fell against his wide chest. Her eyes threatened to shut but she came to again when he gently placed her in the passenger seat of his Maserati SUV.

  “No McLaren tonight?” she asked when his hand was on the door to close it.

  “Had hauling to do.”

  He shut the door and she smiled. There was no way on earth he was hauling stuff in the back of the leather showpiece that was this car. Compared to her late-model Nissan, it was next-level luxury and he knew it. Up to this point, she’d only been vaguely aware of just how rich he was, but now it was in her face for real. Another reason she was glad this was a two-night stand. Okay, maybe she’d push it to a three-night stand, but that was it. They lived in two completely different worlds. Hers was taking care of her dad and writing a simple magazine column, and his was being king of the world.

  Their disparate lives only became more apparent when they pulled into a gated community and then through another gate that guarded his actual home. She’d been around this area of Vegas before—Summerlin was a growing food enclave for Las Vegas locals—but she’d never actually been inside one of the gated developments. Not that she could see much now, either. Once inside, she could only make out driveways and the tops of houses in the distance.

  His own house was surprisingly modern. Two spare rectangles, one of smooth gray plaster and the other long, stacked layers of natural stone, were flanked by a higher level behind them that seemed to curve toward the sky. The two sides were separated by a cut-out entryway, but he didn’t stop the car in the driveway to enter in the front door, instead following the paved road downhill into an underground garage.

  “Oh, so I guess you’re rich or something,” she joked when they were riding the elevator from the basement garage, which had been filled with cars with names and fancy emblems she’d never heard of or seen.

  He shrugged. “You could say that.”

  She wasn’t strapped for cash in any way. In fact, made a great living for an expensive city. More than that, she was proud of what she’d accomplished, but Hugh was clearly beyond wealthy.

  She wasn’t intimidated, but her respect for Hugh was deepening in a way she didn’t necessarily want. Falling for him for real would be an awful idea, not only because she couldn’t live in Vegas and take care of her dad at the same time. But because she’d never actually fallen for someone before. She was a love virgin, and letting a playboy football player break the seal would be too stupid for words.

  Besides, she was never leaving Chicago. That much had always been clear. Her dad needed her and she wasn’t going to be the second female in his life to walk out on him. He was the only family she had in the world and she protected what was hers. So she needed to keep her head on straight and remember that Hugh was just for now, despite how much he made her smile or how light he made her feel. As if he was someone who could carry an equal share of the load for once. She was so used to doing everything on her own that just the idea weakened her knees, unraveling a knotted ball of tension in her chest.

  To think that her real life could be as easy as her life on the road. That was the dream she hadn’t dared.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I had one of my assistants grab you some clothes so you can stay overnight,” he informed her as if a discussion about it wasn’t needed.

  Which it wasn’t. She was allowing herself another night with him. If not, she wouldn’t be in the elevator at all.

  “Thanks,” she said, oddly touched. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  He nodded just as the elevator doors opened directly into what, given the masculine decor and the enormous bed, was clearly his bedroom.

  “Well,” she snorted, folding her arms across her chest as she stared out the elevator doors, “that’s presumptuous.”

  His shoulders shook with laughter. “Yeah, I guess if you didn’t look like you might tip over any second, it would be.”

  “You promised me a hot tub,” she reminded him, peering up at him from under her lashes.

  “The clothes, including a bathing suit, are up here, but we can just sleep, Parker.”

  “You have some soda? I’ll get a second wind.” Just sleeping was a no-no. That was way too much like a relationship, and this was sex only.

  “Clothes are in the bathroom. Go change into whatever you decide. And I don’t drink soda but I’m sure my assistant has some stashed somewhere for parties.”

  She watched him exit the bedroom. Across from the elevator was a wall of windows that opened to a private terrace. Lights from a pool broke up the black night, the emptiness beyond reminding her that they were in the middle of the desert. The bedroom itself was furnished with dark wood furniture, the walls a deep navy, the bed covered with a puffy white duvet, and the carpet charcoal and plush. A massive television anchored nearly one entire wall opposite the bed and a large blue color-block painting akin to Rothko graced the wall across from the terrace doors. It wasn’t overly fussy but it was comfortable and masculine. Also, lacking Hugh’s big personality, but she guessed he hadn’t really put much effort into decorating his second home.

  The bathroom, too, was modern like the architecture of the house would suggest. Clean lines and angles gave order to the space with not a curve or furniture placement out of line. Muted white-and-gray Carrara marble blanketed every surface and made it look expensive but not flashy. Sitting on one of the two vanity counters on either side of the room were two large shopping bags along with a smaller bag from a beauty store, which she assumed were the clothes and toiletries Hugh had been referring to.

  Peeking inside the small bag she saw every toiletry she might need, and luxury items at that. There were several pairs of pajamas, a couple of swimsuits that were clearly too small but she imagined that was probably by design, and what looked like jeans, a pair of shorts and some T-shirts for tomorrow. A package of underwear and two bras were also included. It was extremely thorough and she’d pay him for it, but she didn’t even know that she could fit all of it in her suitcases to go home. She hadn’t left any space for Vegas souvenirs since casino chic wasn’t really her style.

  Parker stripped down and pulled on the black swimsuit, a two-piece tankini number that basically shoved her boobs up to her eyeballs it was so small, but it didn’t matter. With any luck, she’d be out of it soon. Just the thought of getting into that hot tub with Hugh was making her neck tingle in anticipation. Being in his car had been like being inside a Hugh cloud, darkly sensual and smelling like his cologne, and that feeling was only deepening now that she was in his home.

  Returning to the bedroom, she noticed that a panel of the window wall was retracted and she stepped out onto the terrace to see Hugh already in the tub with five different bottles of soda and a glass of ice sitting on the ledge.

  “I didn’t know what you’d want,” he explained.

  The hot tub wasn’t a standalone piece; it was sunken in the ground like a small circular pool, the jets streaming out and the water bubbling around Hugh’s massive shoulders.

  “Nice suit,” he remar
ked, his eyes sliding lazily over her. He was sitting on the seat that lined the circumference of the tub, his arms propped up on the ledge. She took the two steps down into the sparkling teal water until she was fully ensconced in the rehabilitating warmth with an open bottle of diet soda in her hand.

  Sitting across from him, she lay her head back on the ledge, letting the jets pulse on her muscles, and sighed. “This was an inspired idea. Thank you.”

  Hugh didn’t say anything for a second, then she felt him pick up her foot from the bottom. Massaging it, he met her eyes. “I should be thanking you. You helped me out tonight and it really meant a lot to me. I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”

  Their eyes meeting, she got the sense that not many people did things for him. He was all about giving favors, yet rarely asking for them. The car he’d bought for Jesse as if he’d given her something as insignificant as a piece of gum instead of an expensive vehicle. That’s the kind of man he was, and she’d been able to do something for him. It felt good to give him that and she hated it because she shouldn’t feel that way.

  She wanted to tell him not to worry about thanking her, either, but only a moan of pleasure came out of her mouth because at the same moment he dug his thumb into the sensitive and sore ball of her foot. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “You’re good at this.”

  He shrugged, the movement causing his abdomen to literally ripple, and she shivered in response. “The team had a fleet of world-class massage therapists. I learned what I could from them.”

  He moved to her toes, pulling each one just the slightest bit. By the time he was finished and moving on to the other foot, she thought she might be in a contentment coma, she felt so relaxed.

  “Is that soda working or do I need to carry you to bed?” he finally asked, his voice deep and soft in the still night air.

  It was hot outside even though it was dark, but the sting was out of it and the air was cool on her bare wet skin. “Working, I think,” she admitted, knowing that she might be tired, but she wanted him more than she wanted sleep.