Calling Her Bluff (What Happens in Vegas)

by Kaia Danielle

  “Of course.” He stepped to the side. “But I feel like there’s still weird energy between us.”

  Finally, a way to force a wedge between his hotness and her feelings. “Downstairs. You jumped in and called the shots like I’m incapable of making a decision on my own.”

  Jack’s face fell. “We were ganging up on you. I saw it was stressing you out. So I made a decision to get you out of there.”

  “Thank you.” Kamaria looked at her feet. Now she felt like an ungrateful bitch. See, she didn’t deserve a guy like him. “Just consult me next time.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Let’s go in and get settled,” Jack said. “I hope you have a decent-sized couch in there.”

  Jack wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms and hide her away from the world for the next few days. He looked around until he spotted the ceiling security camera that he knew was pointed right at them. He’d bet his next two bathroom upgrade jobs Ben was watching. Jack positioned himself so his body blocked Kamaria from the camera. He had a hard enough time keeping his wits about him where she was concerned. The last thing they needed was his old Marines buddy snatching a front row seat while they figured out this thing happening between them. But with this woman, maintaining control was already looking to be a lost cause.

  Kamaria opened the door to reveal confirmation of Jack’s biggest fear. Yes, she had a penthouse suite. But it was a junior suite. The smallest one on the floor. Which meant she had one California king bed and a living room furnished with a loveseat. Shit.

  He followed her into the suite and locked the door behind him, sealing them away from prying eyes.

  She looked him up and down from head to toe. All six feet five inches of him. She stared at the loveseat and then back at the length of him again. He liked that she absently licked her bottom lip.

  “Well,” she said, “the logical solution is to have you sleep with me…”

  Jack plopped himself down onto the corner of the bed. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Very funny. That loveseat is obviously too small for you. But…”

  “We both know I’m too much of a gentleman to make you sleep on it. Little ol’ you does not need all of that big-ass bed to yourself. The only logical solution is to share.”

  “There is always the floor.” Kamaria’s eyes sparkled back at him. That’s it. He was hooked.

  Jack rose from the bed and approached her. Her eyes widened, letting him know she wasn’t nearly as unaffected as she pretended to be. “I thought you weren’t mad at me anymore.”

  “I’m not,” she stammered before looking away. It was downright adorable.

  “Then what’s the problem with me sharing your bed?” He couldn’t even explain why this woman had him so ensnared. This was Vegas. She was from out of town. A one-night fling was to be expected. He wanted to help her. Okay, fine. Helping people was in his nature. But that wasn’t it. There was something about her that made him want to be impulsive. With her. And for more than one night.

  If she seriously didn’t want him, no way would he push. But there was no denying the sexual energy between them. This guessing shit wasn’t for him. If nothing else, she owed him some explanation. “Kamaria, I don’t want to play games.”

  “Neither do I. Last night was last night. Today, in a way, is like us meeting for the first time.” She cocked her head and mumbled, “Damn, that was good. I need to write that line down.”

  “I’ll remind you,” he said, before she could flounce off in search of a pen and paper. “Today’s a new day. Fair enough. But why do you keep trying to push me away?” He towered over her.

  “Jeez, you’re like the alpha archetype, all big and pushy, rushing in to save the heroine from her train wreck of a life.”

  “We’re not in one of your books, Kamaria.” He wouldn’t mind being her hero, for as long as it lasted, but something in her tone made him think she didn’t believe she was a heroine who was worth saving.

  “I can tell you’re a good man, Jack. Too good for the likes of me.”

  Yeah. He’d hit that nail on the head. He cupped the side of her face. “I can be even better if you’d let me. We’re stuck with each other for the rest of the weekend. Why not enjoy it?”

  “Because you’re a keeper and I wasn’t trying to keep you. That’s why I left.” She pulled his hand away from her face.

  “Wait, I’m not following.”

  “I only wanted one night. No strings attached. You’re a nice guy. I don’t deserve a nice guy for any longer than that.”

  He hadn’t necessarily been looking for forever. If the time span was the issue… “Well, now, I’m offering you a weekend.”

  “No. I’d only be using you for sex.”

  Had sweeter words ever been spoken? “Then use me. You have my permission.”

  “Don’t you get it yet? I’m screwed up. This connection we have? There’s no point in exploring it further when nothing can come of it. You live here. Your job is here. We both know me in Vegas is a bad combination. You shouldn’t get involved with a woman like me. I can’t even handle avoiding a casino without someone following me around. I’m a loser.”

  “No, you’re not a loser.” Jack followed her into the outer room of the suite and watched her pace for a moment before taking a seat on the loveseat. He felt ridiculous sitting on the small sofa. Sleeping on it was definitely not an option. “I think you’re brave.”

  She sighed. “Look, the last thing I want is for either one of us to get hurt when I leave on Sunday…”

  If she thought she might get hurt then that meant she must care. Okay. He could work with that. He wouldn’t push, but he’d be damned if he’d let an opportunity like this pass them by. They’d hit the jackpot with their random meeting last night and the explosive sex that’d followed. And he’d had his fair share of women. Enough to know that chemistry like theirs wasn’t such a common thing. Then, getting called into work and assigned this babysitting gig? Yeah, that was another winning hand dealt to him. She might be willing to throw in the cards—and man, he really needed to stop with the Vegas metaphors—but he wasn’t ready to quit just yet.

  “Then you lay out the rules. I’ll follow them.” She said earlier she wanted to figure it out on her own. Fine, he’d just put that ball back in her court. “If by Sunday it looks like we could be something more, I’ll deal with those roadblocks.”

  Her jaw dropped. Some of the tension seemed to leave her body. “I think I need a nap.”

  “Good idea. In the meantime, I’ll ring housekeeping to bring up some extra pillows and blankets. I’ll sleep on the floor. For now.”

  “Thanks.” She pushed the sliding door to the bedroom shut.

  Through the frosted glass door pane, he could see her peel her hoodie over her head. The curve of her ass and breasts silhouetted like a goddamn pinup when she turned sideways to slip out of her clothes.

  A whole weekend without being able to touch this walking fantasy again? Shiiiit. He pulled the radio from his belt and pinged Ben’s frequency.

  “Ben, get me some pillows and blankets up here. And that picture of me with my Nonna on my desk. ASAP…”

  Chapter Four

  Jack could feel the tension in Kamaria build the closer the elevator car descended toward the bottom floor. He tried to pinpoint a particular trait about her that had drawn him in so quickly. It was that little glimpse of vulnerability, he decided. If not for the exact timing of meeting her in that bar, when her walls had crashed down or catching her at her lowest when she realized the damage she’d done by playing cards, he doubted he—or anybody else—would’ve seen that sensitive side. That softness she kept so hidden… It made him want to sweep her up and hold her close.

  He wasn’t buying her reasons for why they couldn’t explore this thing between them. Gambling issue aside, he didn’t buy her whole, “I’m not good enough” spiel. When he came back stateside after his second deployment, he’d been haunted by
thoughts like that. It’d taken him some time to work through his baggage. To feel normal again.

  His breakthrough had come when he moved out here to Vegas. Away from his Mama and Nonna smothering him, trying to fix his demons for him. Just like they had tried to do for his father, and failed.

  Shit. That’s exactly what he’d been doing to her.

  Kamaria would never make peace with her demons, whatever they were, if he didn’t back off. He could see that, unlike his old man, she wanted to face her issues with gambling head on, to move forward. But if he backed off, would he lose a chance at something more?

  The more Kamaria fidgeted with nervous energy, the more Jack thought about stopping the elevator and pressing the button that would take them back to their own little heaven on high. He could back off later. This situation was exhausting for her, and he wanted to shake her agent for putting her in Vegas in the first place. Kamaria, being Kamaria, insisted on sticking it out and being here on her own. In his opinion, she didn’t need to push him away. She needed his support.

  “When we get out, stay to my right,” Jack said. “My body will block you from seeing the casino entrance. Anytime you think you can’t handle it, I can yank you outta there and back up to the suite.” Dammit, he was doing it again. “That came out wrong…”

  “I’m not some kind of poker crackhead.” She had a determined look in her eye that he had to admire. “I’ve stayed away for over three years before this morning. Give me some credit. I don’t even have access to any money to play with.”

  That left him stunned. He remembered from his dad’s failed Gamblers Anonymous attempts that one way to help an addict was to have someone else handle all of their finances. She was trying so hard to stay on the straight and narrow. Whatever this was that he felt for her deepened with her admission. “Damn, I… Listen, I just want to make this easier for you. Help start you on day one of your next three years.”

  “I don’t want to keep using you as a crutch. I’ve been doing too much of that already. I jumped into bed with you last night because you were a nice guy. You have manners. You made me laugh. You made me forget…forget about…”

  “I get it. Remember, I’m only trying to help.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll never know if I can stand on my own two feet if you and Chastity keep ‘saving me’ before I have a chance to stumble. Yes, I fell off the wagon this morning. Now, let me figure out how to climb back on it.”

  Her words made his belly flutter with a serious case of like. He wasn’t a fluffy romance kind of guy. What the hell was she doing to him?

  The elevator stopped on the third floor and the doors opened. Two women got on, abruptly ending their exchange. The women were dressed in NASCAR-style racing jackets. The redhead looked him up and down and smiled. He discreetly stepped closer to the wall. The way she eyed him like a piece of meat made him uncomfortable. He looked to Kamaria for help. She was too busy smiling at the women to notice. The redhead elbowed her friend and loudly whispered, “Doesn’t he look just like Antonio from the cover of Race You for My Heart?”

  “Mary, don’t be rude. He’s probably one of the cover models.”

  “Well, don’t he, honey?” The redhead was now looking at Kamaria. “Have you read Race…?” The woman gasped and clutched her chest, alarming everyone in the elevator. “Ohmigawd Susie. It’s fucking Kamaria Wilson.” The redhead started fanning herself.

  Kamaria’s face transformed into a bright smile and she held out her hand. “In the flesh.”

  “Wait, if you’re Kamaria, then this really is the cover model from the book. OMFG, are you dating him? Don’t shit me. Does this mean Antonio is real? That makes you Keisha. I knew it. That story was too real to be made up.”

  The friend pushed against Jack. He wasn’t the claustrophobic type but, right now, he definitely couldn’t breathe. “Did you two really do it on the beach in Monaco out in the open? Look at how gorgeous you are. Of course you did. How was it, honey? I’ve always fantasized about doing it on the beach. How do you keep the sand from getting in all your nooks and crannies?”

  Thankfully, the elevator pinged its arrival on the lobby level. Kamaria grabbed his hand and yanked him off the elevator. But not before the frisky redhead pinched his ass. Kamaria pulled two cards out of her bag and handed them to the women. “Use the code on here to download advanced reader copies of my next book.”

  Both women squealed. “Can we get a picture with you and him?”

  “Sure. C’mon, Jack.”

  The ladies flagged down a passerby to snap pictures with their smartphones. While they were hugged up, the redhead swiped a feel of his ass. Again. He grabbed Kamaria’s hand and pulled her away. “Let’s go.”

  Waving back at the women, Kamaria said, “Thanks, ladies. See you at the signing!”

  Once they were out of sight of their elevator compadres, Jack grabbed Kamaria by the shoulders. “Excuse me, what was that back there? ‘How do you keep the sand out of your ass while screwing on the beach?’ Who asks a stranger that? Who is Antonio?”

  “Antonio is the hero from my second book. He’s an Italian race car driver. The story was set in Monaco. He and the heroine do it on the beach. That scene is a fan favorite.” She looked particularly proud of that. “You do favor that cover model a little bit. Are you sure you’ve never modeled before?”

  “No, never. I was in the Marines right out of high school and until right before I moved out here.” Jack ran his hand down his face. “So you’re telling me that all five thousand of these women will be harassing me all weekend because I look like the shirtless idiot on a book cover?”

  “Yep, basically. Maybe not all five thousand of them. Not everyone here has seen the book.”

  As they approached the ballroom, Jack’s breath caught in his throat. Chastity was rolling out a ten foot banner of a book cover that had a smiling face somewhat similar to his own on it. “It looks like they’ll all see it now. I definitely didn’t sign up for this.”

  He ground his teeth together to keep him from saying something he knew he would regret. He looked back at the elevator bay. They could go back upstairs and order room service for the rest of the weekend.

  “Jack, there’s no turning back now. The signing starts in a few minutes. You see all these ladies running around here. They’re not going to be too happy if the authors, who they were told were going to be here, are not in their spots when the doors open. And I bet those ladies from the elevator are running their mouths about how the real life Antonio is here with me. If you don’t go in there with me, they might riot.”

  Jack backed off with a harsh laugh. “Those ladies pinched my ass.”

  “I don’t blame ’em. It’s a fine ass. You have to go in there with me now. It’s not safe for you to walk the floor alone. You think getting your butt pinched was bad? They’re liable to jump you if I’m not around to keep them at bay.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “You said you wanted more of me. Well, welcome to my crazy.” Kamaria held out her hands. Forget her demons. He was beginning to think this was why she had tried to push him away.

  “Besides, I need you here. You keep me calm. When you’re around, I don’t think about wanting to play cards.” She lifted her head to look up at him through her lashes. “I don’t feel weak.”

  Jack could tell that wasn’t an easy confession for her to make. She had him there. He thought of all the times his old man had gambled away everything without remorse. At least Kamaria was trying to do the right thing. If she somehow wound up back at the poker tables, he’d never forgive himself.

  “Fine. But if my ass gets pinched one more time…”

  Kamaria reached around and pinched his butt cheek. “You’ll what, spank me when we get back to the room?”

  Jack rubbed his behind. “No, worse.”

  “Maybe I should grab that ass again. When we’re alone.” Kamaria winked at him as she sat down at the table with her name on it.

&nbs
p; “I hope that means you decided to share the bed.” He put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. She was flirting with him again. That was a good sign. Maybe he wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor after all. “How long will you be signing books?”

  “Until the line is gone. If a reader scraped together money to have me sign their books, I’ll be here to do it.”

  Jack shook his head. “I still don’t get it. They’re just books. Words on a page.”

  “Not to these women. Not to me.” She nodded her head toward the crowd waiting at the door and then gestured toward the other authors who were getting themselves settled. “For some of them, books are their only escape from their hectic lives. My grandmother had me read romance novels from the library to her when we didn’t have enough money to keep the TV on.”

  She stared off for a moment. “After she died, reading her favorite romance books kept me sane. Then I moved on to writing them to honor her memory. That kept me occupied as I worked through the disaster that gambling too much had turned my life into,” she said quietly. He felt a wave of sadness pass through her. He rubbed her shoulders a few times. The tension in her muscles challenged even his work-strengthened hands.

  “Hey, forget what I said back in the elevator. I can’t imagine what all this is like for you. You came here to your own detriment just to meet your fans. That takes a lot of guts. I gotta respect that.”

  Kamaria leaned back into his palms. Her eyes fluttered shut like she was savoring the moment. She stayed that way for a few seconds and then leaned out of his reach. “I only have a few minutes left to set up my station. Thanks for trying to understand. It helps.”

  Kamaria went into her bag to pull out her special purple markers. She wanted to smack herself in the forehead. She could have totally jumped him right here on the hotel ballroom floor. That type of impulsiveness was what got her addicted to gambling in the first place. She took a very slow, very controlled inhale. I can do this. This is all for my readers.