Hard Work

by Micah Persell

  He leaned back and blinked hard, and Victoria tensed. Great, I just managed to offend him even more.

  “Oh.” His every feature relaxed. Then tensed. Then relaxed again. “Well, that makes sense.” He breathed a laugh. “It all makes sense. This is why you wanted to retract the offer?”

  “It was that obvious?”

  He laughed again. “You could say that.”

  She bristled. “Well, how about you? A girl offers you twenty thousand dollars and you’re all, hmmm, I don’t know.”

  He immediately sobered. He stared at her long enough that she shifted, her gaze wanting to slide to the wall. “But I eventually said yes,” he murmured.

  “Eventually,” she grumbled.

  His fingers were suddenly atop hers where they rested on the tabletop. “Honey, I’m sorry, too.” He squeezed her hand. “How about we both get a free pass on today, hmm?” His thumb traced a circle on her wrist. “Let’s take that do-over we talked about on the phone this morning.”

  She pulled in a slow breath. Finally, she looked up at him. “I’d like that.”

  His smile was soft and crooked. “Victoria—” His voice was so quiet, there was no risk of them being overheard. “I’m exceptionally discreet. I’m a professional. We can do this, and no one will ever know. I promise.”

  And she instantaneously believed him. Because she knew by the gravity of his tone that he needed to be discreet as much for himself as for her, which was curious, but something she could trust. “Then we should do this.”

  He reached out and traced her jaw toward her ear with his finger. “I agree.” He skimmed back down her jaw toward her chin, and as he did so, he drew her forward with the slightest pressure from his finger.

  God, she wanted him to kiss her. His lips parted; she licked hers.

  “Are you two ready to order?”

  Victoria jumped a little in her seat, and a surge of disappointment filtered down to her gut as Kip dropped his touch from her skin and leaned back.

  “Yes,” he said, keeping his gaze trained on Victoria. “Honey, what will you have?”

  His choice of words rocked her, and not in a good way. They were sweet. What a boyfriend would say. Or—she gulped—a husband. She turned her gaze toward the waitress, who was scowling at her and not quick enough to hide it before Victoria caught it. Wishes Kip were hers that badly, huh?

  She couldn’t blame her; she could, however, resent her for that. “Actually, we’re leaving.”

  Kip frowned. “But you haven’t eaten.”

  Victoria shrugged. “We’ll order room service.” She raised her eyebrows, asking him the only way she knew how to take her back to the hotel. To fuck her again.

  His gaze roamed her face, and then he nodded. “You’re right, we’re leaving.” His chair screeched across the pockmarked linoleum as he pushed back. He stood and reached into his back pocket, pulled out a wallet, and threw some money on the table.

  “Wait.” She reached for the bills. “I should—”

  He captured her fingers and gave them a gentle, but definitely admonishing squeeze. “Come on. I’m starving.”

  The simple phrase was dripping with innuendo, and the waitress’s jaw dropped.

  Something surged through her chest. A feeling much, much better than the first time she’d walked into her bank with a deposit slip for $100,000 and watched the way the teller’s eyes had widened. Because Kip wasn’t an idiot, he knew the waitress was interested in him; because he knew how to be a gentleman, he had simply and effectively let her know he wasn’t interested in anyone but Victoria.

  She liked that. Liked it so much that when she rose to shaky legs, her panties were so damp she hoped it didn’t show through her pants.

  He tugged on their joined hands and led her across the diner and out to the parking lot. Once there, he dropped her hand. “Meet you at the same place?”

  Victoria scanned the parking lot, finding her own car immediately. The only other car in the lot was also a Mercedes. Huh. “Did you . . . walk here?”

  “No.” He nodded toward the other Mercedes. “Drove.”

  Double huh. She looked him over with new eyes. His line of work must be pretty damn profitable. “Yes, let’s meet at the same place. I’ll see if I can get the same room, but if I can’t, I’ll text you the new number.”

  “Okay.” He started walking backward, keeping his eyes on her. “And Victoria?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

  It was an olive branch, compliment, and promise all rolled into one.

  Her smile this time was genuine. “Me, too.” Definitely me too.

  The ride across town took no time at all, and at the same time, seemed interminable. Kip had taken such good care of her last night, but she had visions of jumping him as soon as they were behind a closed door. Of tearing his clothes off and licking her way down his entire body.

  By the time she was five minutes from the Desert Oasis, the visions were so vivid, she knew they would have to come true or the lack of fulfilled fantasy would haunt her to her grave.

  Needing the distraction, she called ahead and, sure enough, the room they’d had last night was still available.

  Victoria was not a sentimental woman—certainly not anymore, at least—but there was no denying a warmth surging through her as she hung up the phone through her car’s controls.

  Would she be able to ensure the same room for the next couple of weeks? Why did the mere possibility make her nearly giddy in the most odd, soothing way?

  She almost sped right by the hotel—which was blessedly far away from any prying eyes at The Ricchezza—but managed to tap the brakes and swing into the circle drive before missing it entirely. The valet was different from the one who had taken her car last night, and she let go a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  As soon as the valet drove off with her car, she straightened her shoulders and, with a small nod to the doorman, walked through the glass door held open for her. She marched straight toward the desk, and her luck at not being recognized promptly ran out.

  “Ms. Hastings!” the clerk behind the desk called out as he spotted her. “Welcome back.”

  Her smile felt tight, but she offered it nonetheless. “Yes, thank you.” She reached the desk and propped both her arms on it. “Checking in.”

  The clerk’s eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t realize you’d checked out. I thought—” He seemed to realize his lapse of etiquette and snapped his mouth shut. “I mean, certainly.”

  Victoria contained her wince but just barely. A hotel off the Strip. Checking in and out in frequent succession. Paying in cash.

  The man worked in Vegas. He knew what she was up to.

  He didn’t meet her eyes as he typed away at his computer, and when he mumbled her total for the room and slid a paper across the stone counter for her to sign, she slid a pile of cash right back at him: enough for the room and then some.

  His hand froze above it as he noticed from the fan of bills that she had definitely overpaid. She flicked a glance at his nametag. “I appreciate everything, Tony.” She paused a moment. “Everything.”

  His head jerked up, and his gaze collided with hers. She pulled on all the boldness that came naturally to her in work situations. Winking at Tony, she smiled with what she hoped was a flirtatious curve of her lips.

  His face relaxed. “Certainly, ma’am. We do appreciate your business.”

  She nodded, palmed the key card he held out to her, and turned around, shifting her laptop bag into a more comfortable position on her shoulder.

  She froze.

  Kip was just walking into the lobby, and as he nodded at the doorman just as she had, a lock of that thick hair fell out of place and across his brow. He raised a hand and shoved his fingers through his hair, raking it back into order.

  His gaze automatically landed on her, and the easy, sexy grin that spread his lips immediately afterward made her lean back against
the counter in an effort to keep from slipping to the floor.

  Thank God this is not a real relationship. No, Kip had far too much power over her and her body to be safe for a committed relationship. She would enjoy this time with him and then—most probably—cut him loose and maintain her sanity and dignity.

  Not wanting to converse in front of Tony-who-knew-everything, she pushed away from the counter and started walking his way unsteadily, her heels clicking an improvised rhythm against the marble floor.

  They reached each other, and Kip surprised her by gripping her elbow and pulling her closer. He pressed a soft but lingering kiss to her cheek, and she heard him inhale slowly and deeply.

  “Hello again.”

  His words brushed against her ear, and she shivered. He pulled back, and his grin said it all: he knew the effect he had on her.

  No doubt the man planned every move accordingly. Her poor body was going to go into shock if she didn’t adapt to this primitive draw she felt whenever she was around him.

  “I got us a room.”

  He nodded. “Great.”

  “The same one we had last night,” she blurted. She pursed her lips. As though that matters! Why did she say the dumbest shit around this man?

  His eyes softened. “That’s great,” he said again. This time, however, his voice was quiet. Gentle.

  He liked that they had the same room, too. Or, he was a really good actor and was making her think that . . .

  God, stop thinking like that! If she constantly thought about all the ways his job trained him to make her feel things that weren’t real, she would go crazy wondering what was and wasn’t valid.

  This wasn’t a relationship. If she felt something, it was because she was paying him to make her feel something.

  His hand, still cupping her elbow, squeezed. “Second thoughts?” he asked quietly.

  Victoria raised her chin. “Absolutely not.” None that I’m going to be paying attention to, anyway.

  His thumb stroked the sensitive skin of her inner elbow, and her breath caught in her throat. “Then, shall we?”

  She nodded dumbly. “Uh-huh.”

  The dimple in his left cheek flashed, but he wasn’t smiling. It almost looked as though he were amused by her, but trying to hold back the feeling.

  Great.

  “Just one moment,” he said. With one final squeeze to her elbow, he dropped his hand and strode to the hotel desk and Tony—the very man she’d been trying to keep Kip away from.

  Best-laid plans and all that. She folded her arms across her chest and watched as Kip leaned in and the men carried on a hushed conversation.

  She didn’t like this. At all. Victoria liked being in control at every moment.

  Kip straightened. The men nodded at each other, and then Kip was walking back in her direction.

  She could feel by the pull of her lips that she was scowling. “What was that all about?”

  He winked. “You’ll see.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him as he took her elbow once again and steered her toward the elevator. “I feel it necessary to let you know that I don’t like surprises.”

  He pressed the button for their floor. “Well, if that’s true, it’s a damn shame.” He grinned in her direction, that dimple making another appearance. “I’m brilliant at surprises.” He stepped into her personal space and, gripping both of her upper arms, brushed his thumbs down her biceps. “Of all kinds, honey.”

  Her mouth went dry. “Oh.” She licked her lips and shrugged with one shoulder. “I suppose I could be persuaded to like . . . certain kinds of surprises.”

  He leaned down, and her heart galloped. Instead of a kiss, however, Kip snuggled the top of her head with his cheek and moved his hands from her arms to her back. And then, once she was firmly within his embrace, he sighed and stroked his cheek across her hair. “That’s good.”

  Hugging me. Holding me. Liking it so much.

  Victoria stiffened against him, and she could tell the moment he felt it, because he stiffened, too.

  At that moment, the elevator chimed. Kip dropped his arms and stepped back. And, idiotically, she felt chilled and bereft as soon as he gave her the space she’d so desperately wanted.

  He snagged her hand, wove their fingers together, and tugged her forward and off the elevator. “Do you have the key?”

  She mutely held it up, and he plucked it from her fingers. He led them to their room, slid the key home, and opened the door. With a firm, gentle hand to her lower back, he ushered her inside.

  Her arms were trembling as she stepped through the door. Her knees were so damn weak, she worried she wouldn’t make it the few steps into the room. She heard the door click closed behind her.

  Spinning, she dropped her laptop bag from her shoulder. It hit the ground with a thud that would have made her heart stop at a normal moment, but her heart was beating far too quickly to slow down.

  With a small, desperate noise, she launched herself in Kip’s direction. Her arms looped around his neck; her fingers stabbed into his hair. She crushed her breasts to his chest, and as her pelvis came flush with his, she discovered him already hard.

  How long had he been hard for her? In the elevator? In the lobby? The moment he first saw her at Sally’s? That’s how long she’d been wet for him.

  She jerked his head down and surged on her tiptoes until their mouths collided in a magnificent crash of lips and teeth and tongues.

  He groaned into the kiss, his hands falling to her ass and hauling her even closer until he was grinding his erection against her belly.

  Her sex throbbed painfully, and in a rush, she grew even more aroused for him, needing him between her thighs more than she needed her next breath. “Fast,” she murmured.

  He kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her jaw. She tipped her head back and clutched him closer as he licked down her neck. “Fast, Kip.” One of her hands jerked from his hair to grab his ass. She squeezed hard. “I need you.”

  He muttered something—she thought it might be shit—and next she knew, she was up in his arms.

  The hotel room swayed as her equilibrium struggled to right itself. Once she realized he was carrying her to the bed, her womb fluttered even more. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to suck his earlobe into her mouth, biting down hard enough to make him grunt and squeeze her tight.

  She was suddenly weightless, tossed into the air, and before she could panic, she landed with two bounces on the bed. In a flash, Kip was on top of her, shoving his hips between her legs and spreading her wide.

  “Oh, God, yes.” She wrapped her legs around his ass and crossed her ankles so he wouldn’t get away.

  But getting away seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind. He ground his hard dick against her sex and then thrust up, sending the tip of his erection right over her clit.

  She cried out and arched her back. Kip nibbled his way up her neck and thrust again. Every muscle in her sex clenched, and had he been inside her, she would have squeezed him right to the edge of his own orgasm. As it was, the telltale signs of her coming apart began to show. Her aching breasts pressed into his chest, she whispered his name. “I’m going to . . . come.” She gasped as he thrust again. “Just from this.”

  He kissed her jaw. “Do it, honey. Then we can do the next one slow.”

  “That is . . . a fucking brilliant”—she squeezed her eyes shut—“idea.”

  “That’s it, honey.”

  With a wail, Victoria flew out over the edge into orgasm. She stiffened, and her lungs froze. Clutching him to her with all her strength, she writhed against his erection, wave after wave of pleasure shooting through her.

  “Fuck.” His stiffened in her arms, and, dimly, he sounded and felt like he was coming, too. But Kip wouldn’t do that. He was a professional; he wouldn’t lose control.

  He shuddered and pressed his face against her neck, and as she came down from the heights, his wild breaths wafted across her skin.
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  There was an abrupt, loud knock at the door. “Room service.” The words were filtered through the wood, but clear nonetheless.

  Just how loud she had been seconds ago as she’d lost her fucking mind in Kip’s arms came zooming back. She moaned. “Oh, God. They heard me.”

  Kip pushed up on his arms. The dazed look on his face distracted her for a moment, but not for long. “They heard me,” she said again. She covered her face with her hands. “I could just die.”

  Kip wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged. She allowed him to pull one hand away, and the look in his eyes was . . . something. A cross between tenderness and lust. “If they heard you,” he said in a rumble, “then they’re so fucking jealous of me right now, they could die.”

  What?

  “Damn, Victoria.” He drew her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her fingertips. “You’re so sexy, you drive me mindless.”

  Okay, now she was definitely confused. This had to be part of his act, right? Yet, that look in his eyes. She didn’t know anyone who could feign those feelings.

  Another knock sounded, and, if knocks could have emotions assigned to them, this one was definitely impatient. “Room service!”

  Kip kissed her fingers one more time, and then he shoved from the bed. She was so relieved that he was going to the door—there was no way she could get her body to cooperate—she almost missed it as he untucked his shirt and dragged it down to cover his groin: a wet spot on the front of his pants.

  Her eyes widened. He had come! Holy shit. She had made a seasoned gigolo come in his pants while they’d both been thoroughly clothed and in the span of—she glanced at the clock—three minutes.

  I might be a super hero. A giggle burbled in her chest, and she pressed her hand across her mouth to hold it in.

  Kip swung the door open—a little vehemently if she did say so—and, immediately, the hotel employee’s attention shot toward the bed and landed on her. The man clutched a heavily burdened tray in two white-gloved hands, but he paid it no attention as his gaze crawled over every inch of her with such precision. She almost reached for a pillow to pull in front of her chest and hold close.