“So?” She challenges. “You going to kiss me or not?”
My mouth tilts up in a sideways smile. She’s fiery, and I like that. That’s why I originally came here looking for her, and this… this is just extra but now that the moment’s here, I want it. Hell, I think I need it. I thread my fingers through her hair, press my lips to hers and drink her up with a soft kiss. She moans against me, and that kills the soft for me. I take the kiss deeper, and fuck, how she responds, matching every stroke of my tongue with hers, her taste deliciously sweet, her fingers knotting hard in my hair before raking over my shoulders and down my back.
I want to get closer to her. Want it so fucking bad, but there’s too much water stirring between us. I slip my hands around her waist, and she pushes her body up against mine. We’re skin on skin, slick and hard against wet and soft. It’s like every touch of hers leaves a charge behind that electrifies and pulses through me. I’m rock hard, and my hand slides down to grab that gorgeous ass of hers as I grind against her.
A small sound of need escapes her throat, and I groan. I seriously consider carrying her out of the pool and finding an open room so we can continue this in private. Her room. Laundry room. Somewhere. Anywhere but here.
She breaks off the kiss, tilts her head back as I lean down to suck on the very sexy curve where her neck meets her shoulder. “My God,” she moans.
I smile against her skin. “Not yet I’m not.”
Her hand slips between us, presses against my chest and pushes me away, but she’s smiling back. “You’re so arrogant.”
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I growl.
She drifts away from me in the pool, and it takes everything I have not to pull her back over to me again. It’s killing me to work myself down from that kiss, from the feel of her skin on mine. But I need to at least rinse off and put my clothes back on – minus the boxer briefs – and go back to work.
I reach out to her and touch her hair, attempting to slow my breathing so I sound human again. “This was fun, but I gotta go.”
“It’s okay.” Her cheeks are flushed, her voice husky. “I think you got your kiss.”
I glance behind me, seeing more people out on the deck now. “You want to get me my towel, too? I don’t think I can get out of here without it.”
She laughs, and it’s full of that positive energy that I so desperately needed when I sought her out here today. I tuck away that sound in my memory, knowing I’m going to need it again later.
Alex glides over to the edge of the pool and gets out, the water trickling off her as she walks away. I push my hand through my hair and watch her. I hope Maya’s phone calls are going to be enough to distract her from noticing how out of my head I am.
Fuck, that kiss totally messed me up. But that was hot.
13
Alex
Holy crap. My legs are all noodly, my entire body thrumming. I can still taste Connor, a mixture of mint and yummy manliness. No idea how I manage to walk over to the chairs to snag our towels, but I do.
I bring his back to him and hold it out as he climbs out of the pool. The whole time, I make a pretense of drying my hair, but I’m really not-so-secretly gawking at him, enjoying the view as he wraps the towel around his waist. His gaze lands squarely on my face like a shower of cool blue sparks, his cocky grin in place as he catches me looking.
God, there is something about him that fires up my curiosity, makes me want to know what’s really brewing beneath the surface. There’s definitely some arrogance there, but I don’t think he’s one of those guys who’s defined by that. He opened himself up to me before, enough to tell me that way personal stuff about his family. So, he’s arrogant, yeah. But at the same time, there’s this kind of vulnerability to him. He did come all this way to my hotel during a work break to find me.
Something about that makes me want to reach out and run my hand over the slight stubble on his jaw. I lift my hand but graze it against the scar on his arm instead. It’s longer than I initially thought, and I can see now that it goes from the front of his arm and curves back around to his shoulder. The line is jagged, the skin stretched and shining in contrast to the rest of his skin. I wonder if it has to do with that military background my mom mentioned.
“What’s the story behind the scar?”
That spark I saw before in his eyes abruptly dies, and something darker replaces it. “No story.”
His face is tight as he turns away, and he strides to the chair to grab the rest of his clothes without another look in my direction. Like he’s suddenly closed from further discussion.
I go to my chair and kick my flip flops on as he starts to walk away. Okay, obviously his scar has to have a story, and it’s cool if he doesn’t want to share it. But to flip a switch like that? Now I’m feeling a little bristly. I mean, what is his deal? He initiated that kiss, that sexy as hell kiss. And in the blink of an eye, he backs off from me like that and turns into an iceman? The high I was riding mere seconds ago is totally gone, and that’s not cool.
I’m not an attention whore or one of those needy girls. Forming summer attachments with guys doesn’t make sense in my world. I’m usually the one to run away from them.
But he’s not like those pretty boys I’m used to hooking up with. He’s interesting. And I think I like him.
I frown as I gather up my things. These thoughts need to be nipped in the bud, right now. Connor’s almost to the pool house, and I briefly close my eyes and take a breath. Oh, crap.
“Hey!” I shout.
He stops walking and turns around, his face still stiff. I stalk over to him – well, as best as I can in my flip flops.
I come to a stop by the side of the pool house, only a step or two in front of him. He stares down at me, his expression giving way to surprise. But his eyes are still clouded with anger. Or pain. Something.
“What’s up?” Definitely guarded.
“I never thanked you,” I blurt out.
His mouth twitches slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “For what?”
Oh, God. He probably thinks I’m talking about the kiss, and I’m not. Though now that I’m inches away from him, I am very aware of his body and the warmth of his skin. My own body responds with an ache. A need to close the distance between us and touch him again…
Girl, you need to focus.
“You know. For taking care of me the other night. Making sure I got to my room all right.” I pause before adding, “Not too many guys would have gone out of their way like that. And others might have taken advantage of the fact that I was messed up.”
He nods once. “No problem.”
It’s a no-frills answer to my rambling, but the way he looks at me holds more emotion than his words. His eyes search my face as if we’re back in the elevator and he’s trying to make sure I’m okay.
I nod back. “Just wanted you to know. And sorry to keep you. Maybe I’ll see you at the pool again sometime.”
It’s all I wanted to say. Nothing urgent but nevertheless important because I don’t know if I’ll see him again to tell him. I turn to go, glad that I got the words out.
“Alex.”
His voice is low, sexy. He catches my hand.
I spin around to face him, and he slides his arm around my waist and pulls me forward. Tugs on me so I’m pressed close against his chest and hard against his towel.
“You’re not leaving Vegas soon, are you?”
His skin feels sun-warmed, his eyes like endless blue pools. I swallow hard. “No. I’ll be here through the month. At least through the month. I’m not su…”
My legs turn back into jello as his mouth covers mine, and whatever walls he had up before, I can’t feel in this kiss. It’s warm and wanting, and it fires me up again like we never got out of the pool. I wind my arm around his neck, knot my hand in his hair. His grip on my back tightens, and he groans deep in his throat as I boldly move my hips against him. My other hand runs across the muscles of his chest, moves lowe
r over his abs, not caring about the fact that we’re down by the pool with other people around the corner. I wonder what he’d do if I got rid of that towel.
As soon as I have the thought, he ends the kiss. My vision is blurry, my heart rate about to go through the roof.
“Good,” he says. I swear to God I can hear his heart beating as fast as mine. He lets go of me and steps back toward the entrance of the pool house, his eyes intent on mine.
“I’ll see you again. I’ll make sure of it.”
My voice is lost somewhere, and I nod at him mutely. Even if it is some prefabricated line he gives women, he has me believing it.
He walks away, and this time, I let him.
“So?” Mom is curled up on the couch with a book, and she puts it down and smiles as I walk out of my room. “How was your swim?”
I’d entered the suite through my own room about twenty minutes ago and cooled myself down in the shower for about fifteen. Mom’s eyes scour me right now like she’s looking for hickeys. Luckily, there aren’t any. I checked.
“Really, Mom? That’s not really what you want to ask me, is it?”
Her eyes widen. “What? I’m just wondering if you had a nice swim. And yes, I admit that I might be hoping that you had company after I abandoned you.”
“You didn’t abandon me. I had a nice swim. And I did have company for a while.”
She beams at me. “And when are you seeing him again?”
“We’re not seeing each other. But I have no idea,” I say lightly.
He’ll make sure that I do.
It’s my turn to scrutinize her. She looks pretty, with her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, which she rarely does. And her expression is relaxed, serene even. “Hey, but how are you? Feeling up to going out for lunch?”
“Much better. But I already had room service bring me a late breakfast.” She picks up her book and pages through to get back to her spot. “Your father’s in the VIP lounge and said he’d take you to lunch if you’d like.”
“Yeah, sure.” I give her one more hard look to be sure that she’s okay, but it seems like her painkillers are doing the trick.
“I’m glad you and Connor had a nice pool date,” she says into her book.
“Oh my God. Mom.” I fight the temptation to roll my eyes.
I get the hell out of there before she can say anything else, but I have to laugh to myself as I walk down to the elevator. Between the stunts that both Elle and my mom have pulled so far, this summer is already turning out to be a lot more interesting than usual. I hope I can make it out of this city in one piece.
I go downstairs to the VIP lounge and pull open the heavy door, the scent of luxury wafting out in a perfumed cloud. The lounge is pure opulence, excessive in decor complete with velvet upholstery that melts over thick carpet. Dad is sitting and reading a newspaper in one of the overstuffed chairs. I don’t think he’s actually reading it though, because he jumps up almost as soon as I set foot in the room.
“So,” he starts as we walk out together. It’s how Mom had greeted me when I came out of my room, and I almost stop in my tracks. If he somehow knows about my non-date with Connor and is about to ask me about it, I might die.
“What did you think about baccarat the other day?”
Oh, that’s all. I relax as we head to a high-end Chinese restaurant.
“I kept confusing the rules with blackjack rules at first,” I admit. “But I figured it out after that.”
He gestures for me to go in before him, and the host at the door greets my dad with a shallow bow.
“Lín xiānshēng. Nǐ hǎo.”
Dad gives him a nod, and the host leads us to a circular table and pulls out a chair for each of us before handing us our menus.
“Enjoy your lunch. The server will be with you shortly.” The host bows at each of us and quickly retreats, leaving us to decide. Dad gives the menu a cursory glance before putting it down.
“The trick to playing baccarat is that there’s no true skill involved,” he says. “It’s a guessing game. More of a social game than anything. The rules don’t matter.”
“I don’t understand…” I trail off, honestly confused. “The rules don’t matter? How can you win if you don’t know the rules?”
“The strategy doesn’t come from the rules,” he says patiently. “You saw how it’s played. A child could do it. All you have to do is guess whether you or the banker is going to have the best hand. Ultimately, the house has the advantage, but you can come out ahead if you know when to walk away.”
I don’t quite get it. “Sounds like you’re describing how to cut your losses instead of actually winning.”
He smiles at me, pausing his lesson as the server sets a pot of tea down in front of us.
“Some hands you win, some you lose. But winning only comes from knowing how much you can stand to lose.”
I wonder if that’s a translation of some old Chinese proverb. I feel like I’m sitting in one of my classes where the professor keeps trying to explain something over and over again and I don’t get it.
“Okay, so… you’re saying you win when you’ve decided you’ve lost enough?”
He nods and leans forward, like we’re conspirators in a game. “In the long run, yes. Still have that money I gave you?”
I sip at my tea. “I do.”
“After lunch then.” He reaches out and pats my hand. “We’ll try your luck at the tables, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Whoa. What? My head swirls for a second as I try to put meaning to his words. “Are you serious? You want me to actually play?”
He nods. “Not on the same level as me obviously, but yes. Believe it or not, there are good lessons that can be learned from this.” He looks a little sheepish. My dad, who always has a handle on things, looks sheepish. “But you need to promise to keep it our little secret.”
Keeping this a secret from my mom is a no-brainer. She’d freak if ever she found out. I hold up my pinky like I used to do with him when I was a little girl.
“Pinky promise.” I grin at him, and he grabs my little finger with his.
“We’ll go across the street again, same place as yesterday,” he says with a satisfied nod.
Across the street again. A current of excitement sparks through me, and I press my lips together as I realize why. It’s only partly because I’m going out with Dad for my first actual gambling session. It’s because I know Connor’s also working right now, out there doing his thing. Maybe in that same high roller room.
Dammit. I’m hoping he’ll be there.
14
Connor
“I’m out.” Maya throws her cards down with thirty plus grand on the table, her declaration almost a snarl.
She’s going down in flames, and there’s damn little I can do about it. Making bad calls. Being snappish with the other players at the table. Nothing that would warrant the casino personnel asking her to leave, but she’s not her usual gracious self. Something’s definitely throwing her off today, and I’m guessing it’s that phone call from earlier. I wonder if I should use one of our code phrases to get her out of the high roller room, but those are for her to use. Not my decision to make.
She turns in her chair, placing her hand on my sleeve. “Go get me a pack of Virginia Slims, won’t you?” Her tone is brusque, lines of tension around her eyes evidence of strain.
I frown. True sign that something’s eating at her. Maya doesn’t smoke, or at least I’ve never seen her light one up before. But again, not my place to say anything. We all have our own shit that we do to take the edge off, and if this is what she needs, I’m happy to do it.
There’s a convenience store in the lobby, and I leave Maya’s side and walk through the gaming floor, my thoughts somehow drifting to Alex. On kissing her outside the pool house. On how I wanted to take her inside with me to the showers. The time with her at the pool wound up being a little more than I intended, more than a mere distraction. I don’t
tell people about me, ever. When she asked about the scar, I had to walk away, but it was only because a small part of me was tempted to answer her.
I’m surprised at myself for having told her as much as I did. My past is not exactly a badge that I wear proudly. Elle’s the only one out here who knows anything about my parents.
Speaking of which, I can only imagine the shit Elle’s going to give me if she finds out about my little swim with her friend. Though honestly, Alex doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who gives up the dirt on the guys she messes around with. I remember what she said that night in the elevator, that she doesn’t hook up with random guys, that it’s only when she really wants to.
Damn. I’m looking forward to seeing her again. Too much. The anticipation of it gives me a little high, and I’m not totally comfortable with that. I can’t remember the last time I felt that.
Sure I can. But it fucking hurts to remember.
I slam down that thought, make myself come back to earth. I’m on the job with Maya, and she’s already off her game. I need to get my head on straight and keep it there until I clock out. And then go home to chill the fuck out before I have to meet with Cruz.
The convenience store is busy with tourists, and I get in line behind a Spanish-speaking couple. They’re talking in low voices, but I hear the woman tell the guy that she wants a hundred dollars more to play blackjack.
“No tenemos más dinero,” he mutters back.
She argues with him until they get to the front of the line, and they walk away still arguing. Precisely why I don’t gamble. I don’t claim to be a saint, but I see enough of what it does to people to ever want to get into it.
The cashier looks like he’s in his late teens. He has earbuds on and looks bored out of his mind. I grab my wallet from my back pocket.
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