KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys

by Frankie Love

  I sigh, knowing he’s being brutally honest about his life. I appreciate it, his transparency, especially when I’ve been so fake with him.

  But his honesty also reminds me why these feelings I have been waffling with—the lust turned passion turned Could he and I be something more?—is just a ridiculous fantasy that will end up with me crushed.

  Landon has no interest in the life I lead. He doesn’t want to be the sort of man I need. A reliable job, a family insurance plan. A car with room for a booster seat. A willingness to take a family vacation to Disneyland. That’s why I’ve always looked for relationships with guys on bowling leagues, who have toolboxes in their garages. Those guys are the sort of men who want a family.

  Or at least, could handle a family.

  Landon just explained his existence. And none of it involved PTA meetings.

  “You look so damn serious, Claire.”

  “Just. Jet lag, I guess.”

  “Would you like to take a nap? I’ll let you be.”

  “Thanks, Landon. I just need to call Sophia and then rest.”

  He flips off the overhead light as he leaves the bedroom, and I switch on the lamp. Then I pick up my phone from the bedside table.

  Me: Hey Mom, Sophia there?

  Mom: She is, want to FaceTime?

  I press the FaceTime button and they pick up right away.

  “Hey sweet pea,” I coo. “You look like you’re having fun with Gram.”

  Sophia is holding a paintbrush and has construction paper all over the kitchen table.

  Mom flips the phone to her own face. “She insisted on painting you a picture.”

  “What is it?” I ask Sophia, whose smile fills my darkened room.

  “It’s you at a garden. Gram showed me pictures of English gardens. Can you take me there someday?”

  “I’d love to. There are pretty gardens here. I’ll send Gram some pictures okay?”

  “You having fun with your friend?” she asks, dipping her brush in a pot of green paint.

  “I am. We’re getting along really well.”

  “Good. You need friends, remember?” She looks up at the phone, her green eyes matching the scene she’s painting.

  “I remember.” My mind instantly goes to Emmy and Tess ... and the way I’ve kept so much from them. Can I really be called their friend when I am basically an imposter? “I love you,” I tell her.

  “I love you, too, Mama.”

  We hang up and I tuck the phone under my pillow, reaching to turn off the light.

  I suddenly feel very far from home.

  Landon

  When I go to check on Claire five hours later her eyes are still closed, the light’s still off. I immediately try to retreat. But my entrance stirs her awake.

  “Landon?” she asks, sitting up. “Is that you?”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.”

  “I’m alive,” she says, reaching to turn on the lamp.

  “Everyone’s dressing for dinner.”

  “Dressing for dinner? That’s an actual thing?”

  “I know; the British are bloody formal.”

  “You’re so cute when you speak like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, you. You are just really cute in general.”

  I sit next to her, wanting this moment to last. Her nap put her in a good mood.

  “I think you’re still sleepy. You sound delirious.”

  “I’m not.” She props up in the bed.

  Her rumpled clothes and messy hair are endearing. As is everything about this woman. I want to tell her that I actually am falling for her ... in a way that is much more real than it ever was with Winnie. Than it has ever been before.

  But I have no reason to think she’ll believe me. She doesn’t see me as a real man, a real option—especially after I revealed the state of my fucking finances, which was a stupid idea.

  Being honest only made me look like a worthless shit.

  If I get the company, then I’ll have something of worth. Something to give her and Sophia.

  If I don’t get the company, she would never want a man like me. I just wish there were a way to show her my intentions were true.

  Not that I know exactly what my intentions are ... but they are more than her being my fake fiancée.

  “I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry I got you a loaner engagement ring,” I tell her. “After Geoffrey declared it at the table, I kind of felt douchey for not mentioning it.”

  “Landon, if you’d had actually spent a jillion dollars on a ring for a fake engagement, I think I’d have to chop off your balls.”

  “You get so intense, Claire. I never want to cross you.”

  She smiles and I push her over, so I can sit in bed next to her.

  “What did you do all afternoon?” she asks.

  “Tried to talk with my Dad about The King’s Diamond. But he was being really squeamish about it all.”

  “Squeamish? What do you mean?”

  “Well, he kept asking more about you, about the property in Vegas, about a potential family trip to Greece. I don’t know, it was all very strange.”

  Claire snorts. “You are so out of touch with reality, Landon.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It sounds like you father wanted to talk to his son. About his life. That shouldn’t make you feel squeamish. That’s called your dad being nice. Thoughtful. Considerate. He’d be a jerk if all he wanted to discuss was money and business.”

  “Fuck, you are perfectly right.”

  “Well, I’m a mom. I know things.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Claire gives me a sidelong glance. “Is it going to upset me?”

  “Why, you only like it when people ask you easy questions?”

  She moans. “Just ask me, Landon. We both know you’re going to regardless.”

  “Okay,” I smile, enjoying how close she and I have become, and feeling like asking this question isn’t totally out of bounds. “Who is Sophia’s father?”

  She sighs, closes her eyes.

  “Sorry,” I say immediately. “That was inappropriate.”

  “No, it’s not. You’ve put up with my secrets. My dishonesty,” she says, picking at lint on her sweater that doesn’t exist. “I just really, really don’t like talking about it.”

  “Is he in the picture anymore?” I want to know. I need to know. Because I am falling for her, so hard. And, at the moment, I don’t really know her real story.

  “No,” she says adamantly. “Not even a little.” Her eyes fill with tears, and I know this subject is getting really personal, really quick. But isn’t everything between us getting really personal, really quick?

  “Okay,” I say slowly, nodding. “I don’t need the torrid details. I just wanted to know if you were single.”

  She laughs, wiping her tears. “Landon, before you, I hadn’t slept with anyone in five years. Since Sophia’s dad and I ... so, no. There is no other guy.”

  “That is a bloody long time not to shag.”

  “Don’t,” she says, warily.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Use words like shag. What is this, Austin Powers circa 1996?”

  “So I can’t use the word shag, but can we? Do the actual shagging?” I roll her on top of me, and I know by the dreamy look in her eyes that she’s game.

  “I thought we had to dress for dinner? Suits and heels, et cetera. I don’t think those jeans and this sweater are going to cut it.”

  “They won’t. We do have to dress for dinner,” I tell her, stealing a kiss on her neck, her ear, her mouth. “But we have to undress first.”

  “You’re brilliant, you know that? But I need to shower first.”

  “Even better.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Claire

  It doesn’t take long for us to move from the bed to the en suite bathroom. He strips and I rip off my top and bottoms a
nd we cross the carpeted floor. He turns on the water in the two-person shower, and we step inside.

  “I’ve never had so much sex in my life, just so you know,” I tell him, as water from the double showerhead pours over me.

  “I think we are all pretty clear on the how-little-Claire-has-had-sex front.” Landon wraps an arm around my waist. “We have a lot of years to make up for.”

  My hands press against his hard chest, and damn, it really is solid. His body is exquisite. His muscles are ripped, his shoulders straight and strong. Everything about him declares his power, his control, his absolute sex appeal.

  “You’re so hot, Landon. Like, I knew it the first time I saw you naked in the hotel ... but I swear, every time I look at you there’s another muscle in your arms, another dimple in your cheek, another color in your irises. You just get sexier by the minute. It isn’t fair.”

  I kiss his mouth, hard. The warm water covers my back, drawing us closer together as our slick bodies melt into one another.

  “Don’t even with me,” he says, smoothing back my wet hair. “I called you a bird before, but the truth is they don’t have the right wings. You are an angel. Something divine. Something from heaven.”

  “You believe in God?”

  “I believe in love.”

  “Don’t,” I say not wanting to get to the L-word territory. It will complicate things at a whole new level. “Don’t. Let’s just ... be.” And I kiss him again, not wanting anything more to be said, words that aren’t true, because they can’t be. We’ve known one another intimately for a few weeks, since the night of Emmy and Ace’s wedding.

  It can’t be love.

  I feel his hardness press against me, and it ignites my desire to be close to him, to be covered by him. To escape with him.

  And in that moment, as I drop to my knees in the shower, I understand why someone might lead a shallow life. I can see the appeal. Because going to the deep end of the water, where things can sink to the bottom, is terrifying. The shallow end lets us breathe when we might otherwise drown.

  It’s not somewhere you can stay forever, because eventually you have to learn to swim ... but learning to swim without anyone helping is frightening.

  And maybe Landon is just scared.

  And so I let my hands run around his back, resting on his firm ass. Then I take his cock in my hand, pressing the tip of it in my mouth, tasting him. He moans as I take him deep, holding his balls in my hand, softly rubbing the base of his shaft. I press my lips tight around his hardness.

  His hands rest on my head, running through my wet hair, as water pours over my back.

  “Girl, you are everything.”

  And I suck harder, wanting him to feel good. Wanting him to feel enough. Wanting him to feel the way he has allowed me to feel over and over again. Wanted. Desired. His.

  I stop sucking when I think of that word.

  His.

  It’s dangerous to think like this.

  Does he even see me that way? Why do I fight the things I want? What if I was the woman for him?

  “You okay, baby?” he asks. I take his cock from my mouth, kissing away the milky early-release from his tip.

  “I’m okay,” I lie. Or is it the truth? I like being here, on my knees before him, but I don’t like not knowing what is real and what is fake. “Are you okay?”

  “You know the fucking answer to that.” He grins down at me, and I grin too.

  I make things so messy in my head, so difficult, and I think that’s the Mom in me. I need order, control. I want things to make sense, because I can’t just go with the flow when I have Sophia to think about.

  But being here with Landon–the poster child for living in the moment and not thinking anything through and growing up so privileged that a hundred thousand dollars is just disposable cash–it’s like the universe is giving me a gift.

  A gift of letting it all go for a little bit. Of just letting myself enjoy this time with Landon for what it is, a free vacation with a gorgeous man.

  I stand and reach for Landon’s hand, pressing his fingers between my legs. His other hand massages my breasts, and he kisses me greedily.

  The pressure in my pussy feels so good and my toes curl in excitement.

  “Fuck me, Landon,” I whisper in his ear. I lift my leg onto a bench in the shower, giving him room to press another finger into my opening. His fingers run back and forth along my narrow slit and then he begins to circle his thumb against me.

  “Baby, it feels so good,” I moan, grabbing hold of his neck. “But I want your cock in me. Now.”

  He doesn’t hesitate. He spins me around and I lean against the shower wall as he expertly leads his cock into my pussy from behind. Once his thickness is inside me, my pussy begins pulsing against his cock in pleasure.

  He thrusts into me, gripping my waist as he goes in harder. I’m moaning loudly now, and I can’t help it. His cock courses shock waves of pleasure through me.

  “Claire, oh yeah,” he says, as we both orgasm, my body dissolving into the wall as he thrusts one final time. He leans against me, the hot water still running over us, my legs jelly, and his heart beating fast against my back.

  He kisses my neck, and I close my eyes, my forehead against the shower wall.

  I don’t want to move. I want to stay here, knowing I’m not in the shallow end with Landon any longer. We’ve passed that ... somewhere between Vegas and England and the truth of Sophia and the vulnerability he has shown me.

  But knowing what comes next is the murky middle, where the water gets deep and where he might not want to tread. Or worse, he may want to dive in headfirst.

  And the truth is, I’m scared to learn to swim ... because in all my life, I’ve never left the shore.

  Landon

  “The family meeting will be held tomorrow afternoon,” Dad says over dinner.

  We’ve dressed for dinner, per their request, and are sitting around the table as a family.

  “We’re all here, why don’t we just have it now,” Geoffrey says sourly.

  “Because I want to enjoy this evening business-free,” Mum says. “Let’s talk about something else. Something light.”

  Fiona smiles, picking up her fork. “Well, Geoffrey has asked me to marry him.”

  “Wow,” Claire says, not hiding her shock. “Really?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?” Fiona asks.

  Mum and Dad exchange a look of confusion before Dad stands and claps.

  “Unexpected, Fiona, but not hard to believe, “Dad says. “You and Geoffrey have been dating for a decade. It’s about time you two tied the knot.”

  “Congrats, bro,” I say, raising my wine glass to him. “Brandon,” I call to the butler standing by. “We need champagne.”

  “When did this happen?” Mum asks.

  “We’ve been talking about it for awhile,” Geoffrey says, looking down at his plate.

  “Fiona tie your balls in a knot after she heard I beat you to the punch?” I laugh, loving the fact that I’ve one-upped him in something. Which would be the first something in our entire lives.

  “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” Mum says, misty-eyed once again. “Both my boys, settled down and happy. The timing couldn’t be better.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask.

  Geoffrey smirks and takes the champagne Brandon offers him.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know, brother.”

  “Try me,” I say, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. There is little I hate more than being on the outside.

  “Not now, boys,” Dad says. “Let’s toast the happy couple.” He raises his flute of champagne and we all follow suit. “To love.”

  “To love,” we all repeat, clinking glasses.

  Claire catches my eye, and she gives the slightest of nods, as if warning me to not press any further. She’s right, of course; I need to keep my cool. The last thing I need to do is start ruffling feathers and pissing on everything and losing what I want
.

  Which is to take this company. Have a legitimate job that will impress Claire. Confess my love. Actually marry her.

  I want all of that and I won’t get any of it if I start acting like a prick.

  “So when is the wedding?” I ask, wanting to watch Geoffrey squirm about something not business related.

  Claire rolls her eyes discreetly and I know even that line of questioning is cutting it close. She looks so delicious in her cream dress, cut tight around her narrow body, her long legs in those high heels. I want to strip her out of all of it later. And I will.

  “Soon,” Fiona says. “Very soon.”

  “That’s lovely. A spring wedding, then?” Mum asks.

  “Sooner, even,” Fiona says. “I’ve waited long enough. I want to get married as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, how grand. A winter wedding would be lovely. Does your mother know, Fiona?” Mum asks. “And let’s see the ring.”

  “We don’t have the ring yet, and haven’t said anything to her family,” Geoffrey says. “Because we weren’t going to mention the engagement yet, considering everything else going on, but....” He gives Fiona a smirk before adding dryly, “Apparently the excitement overwhelmed us.”

  “Oh shush, Geoffrey,” Fiona says, swatting him. “It’s only what I’ve wanted for five years.”

  After dinner, Mum and Dad excuse themselves, stating that they are exhausted, leaving Fiona, Geoffrey, Claire, and me to sit awkwardly around the table.

  Claire has been putting up with Fiona relatively well all evening, but her patience seems to be wearing thin.

  When Fiona tells Claire that her and Geoffrey’s marriage will last forever, since they know one another so well, it is Claire’s last straw.

  Claire smiles tightly and says, “So, Fiona, if you’ve been dating so long and are so perfect for one another, what made you decide to go ahead and get engaged now, of all times?” Claire seems to realize her words have caused the happy couple to pause in discomfort, but I smile, realizing it was intentional.

  “Well, because we’re in love, and so happy.” Fiona plasters on a smile that’s a bit manic, looking at Geoffrey to help. When he doesn’t, she adds, “You know, we’ve been talking for so long and then you both show up here, all ... smug. It’s quite obnoxious, actually. Don’t think we all didn’t hear you having sex last night. We heard.”