She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you married?”
He chuckled. “No.” As long as he was in the Navy, commitment wasn’t in the cards for him. He wasn’t about to follow in his father’s footsteps. His father’s commitment had ruined his mother. Cade wasn’t about to put anyone through that.
“In a relationship?” she asked.
“I’m a SEAL, gorgeous. That hasn’t left much time for anything else.”
She smiled at him, her dark eyes sparkling with wanton need. “I think—”
“Lucia Lewis?”
Cade tore his gaze away from Lucia and focused on the newcomer, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair. His suit looked expensive, but what did Cade know about clothes? Natalie had arranged for a rented tux to arrive at his hotel room this morning, and he’d agreed to wear it because he didn’t have another option. His Navy whites would have been out of place in Vegas.
“Herman Schwartz,” the man said. “I’m an art dealer in New York.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Schwartz.” Lucia held out her hand.
“Ms. Lewis, I assume you’re here for the art.”
“Mostly,” she murmured.
“I was admiring the paintings when I saw you out of the corner of my eye. I have clients looking for similar pieces. Many would love to have yours.”
“I’m surprised you recognized me.”
“I had my assistant search the web for a picture of you. It wasn’t easy to find, and the shot is mostly of the back of your head.” The art dealer beamed at Lucia. “But I saw your long hair, and the way you looked at the paintings earlier—I took a chance. So tell me, do you have any pieces that would fit a glitzy New York City restaurant? There is a steak house owner who is in the market right now.”
“I would be honored. If you email me pictures of the space, I can create something for your client, or send some photos of what I have in my workshop.” Cade watched as Lucia set the strawberry skewer on the table and opened her small black bag. She peered inside, then withdrew a business card and handed it to her potential client.
A pink piece of paper, about the size and shape of a Post-it note, slipped out and fell to the floor beside her. Cade bent to retrieve it, his gaze lingering on her shoes. The shiny four-inch black heels were tied to her ankles with satin ribbons. He’d never had a thing for women’s footwear, but he sure as hell liked the idea of binding Lucia’s legs to his bedposts.
“I can do better than that, Ms. Lewis,” Mr. Schwartz said. “I’ll fly you out to New York.”
“That’s kind of you, but I don’t travel much. This trip is something of an anomaly,” she said.
Cade stood, Post-it in hand, and watched as the art dealer tucked her card into his wallet.
“I’ll be touch with the pictures. And I hope you change your mind.” With that, the art dealer walked away.
“You didn’t mention that you’re a famous artist,” Cade said once the other man was out of earshot.
“I’m really not that well-known. Back home in Tennessee, I spend most of my time working with children. I’m more art therapist than artist.” She plucked a dark chocolate square from a platter beside the fountain. “And you weren’t here for the art.”
“I’m taking an interest.” He glanced down at the Post-it as he held it out to her. “Here…”
The words “you dropped this” vanished from his vocabulary as he read the small block letters. Top Four Fantasies for Las Vegas.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded, snatching the paper from his hand.
“It fell from your purse.” He could hear the husky note in his voice. “Your to-do list for your trip, I take it?”
“I wrote that…well, I never planned to share it…it’s for later.” She stumbled over the incoherent explanation.
He saw the alarm in her brown eyes. “Later with whom?”
“You. Maybe. I hope,” she murmured. The flirty bravado she’d displayed earlier vanished. And for the first time, he saw a hint of the woman who fit Natalie’s description. Shy, vulnerable, and in need of someone to protect her.
He stared into her eyes. Panic, hope, maybe a hint of embarrassment—it was all there. The longer he looked, the more he wanted to be that man.
And break my fucking promises.
He’d been sent to watch over her, damn it. He was on a mission to keep her from finding someone to fulfill her fantasies. Making her naughty dreams come true? Not part of the job.
But he couldn’t let her walk away. The thought of her searching the masked crowd for another man—
Hell, no.
That wasn’t happening. Not tonight.
“What’s on your list, Lucia?” he asked, knowing he needed to play the part of her mystery seducer even if he couldn’t be the man to make her dreams come true.
“Number one.” She drew a deep breath. “Number one is…well, it involves…”
“Tell me, gorgeous.” He glanced at her purse, fighting back the urge to take the Post-it back and read the list himself. “What are your fantasies?”
“I want an irresistible man tied to my bed,” she said softly. “That’s number one.”
The concrete reasons to keep his hands off Natalie’s little sister headed for the exit. Cade heard those words—an irresistible man tied to my bed—and he didn’t want to do the right thing. He wanted to be Mr. Irresistible and help her cross off every item on her list.
“What’s number two?” he demanded.
“A man willing to…” She pressed her lips together, her fingers toying with the clasp on her purse. The bag opened with a click and she reached inside, withdrawing the pink note. “I can’t say the words. Out loud.” She held out the Post-it. “Here.”
Cade took the small piece of paper, his fingers brushing hers. He glanced down and read the second item.
2) A man willing to go down on me until I come so hard I forget my own name.
Desire knocked his reservations out of the building. The reasons he should stick to the plan and keep his hands off Lucia would be waiting for him in the morning. But tonight he needed to cross off the items on her Post-it.
Maybe that was his loneliness talking. Avoiding relationships, focusing on his job—it came at a cost. Sure, he had his dog and his friends, but for one weekend he’d like to take a break from the solitude his situation demanded.
After watching Lucia lick strawberries while his dick begged to join the party and reading her list, he wanted—strike that, needed—to spend a night or two with a woman who wanted what he had to give but wasn’t asking for a future. He could find a willing partner in Sin City then go back to duty, his need slaked for now. But that wouldn’t do. Not anymore. It couldn’t be just any woman.
It had to be the woman in front of him. The beautiful yet shy Lucia who’d taken a chance and stepped outside her comfort zone despite the insecurities he saw rising to the surface with each passing second. If he didn’t say something soon, he’d bet she’d run for the door.
She didn’t realize it, but she was triggering every protective instinct he had.
“I’m willing, gorgeous,” he said, his gaze moving down the list to numbers three and four.
3) An orgasm. In public.
4) Give a man a blowjob that will leave him begging for another.
He closed his eyes. After watching her eat chocolate, he had a feeling she would excel at number four.
“Cade?” she said.
He heard the uncertainty in her voice. He opened his eyes, folded the note, and slipped it into the pocket of his rented tux jacket.
I’m going to hell for this.
He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Then he drew her away from the fountain, his hand on her elbow, and guided them to the exit.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To cross number three off your list.”
Chapter Three
Lucia followed Cade, the Navy SEAL she’d known for about five minutes, through the maze
of card tables and slot machines. He stopped beside the trash bin bearing the hotel’s logo, removed his simple black mask, and tossed it inside.
“I think I’ll keep mine on,” she said, her voice light and playful even though her nerves were a rioting mess.
In the restaurant, she’d felt brave and daring. But out here, under the casino’s bright lights, the web of emotions that had left her sealed in Tennessee—terrified to be herself unless it was on the canvas—blocked the way.
She stopped beside a bar lined with touch-screen machines. “Maybe we should have a drink first.”
Cade smiled and gently pulled on her hand. “Then we’re going to the perfect place.”
The sound of his voice was like a drug. Irresistible. They walked past the hotel gift shop and turned a corner. Velvet ropes lined one side of the hallway and led to a nightclub. The hypnotic beat of the music poured through the doors.
“Number three,” she whispered. “In there?”
“Gorgeous, I’m not going to walk you into the club, make you come, and jump to the next item,” he murmured in her ear, holding her at his side as they waited for the bouncer to check IDs. “I’m going to get you wet, excited, and ready first.”
“Oh.” She fumbled with the clasp on her purse. “How?”
He smiled, took her driver’s license, and held it out to the bouncer. Then he led the way into the club’s cave-like entrance. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about wild Vegas nights.”
She followed him to the long bar. It was still early, but people filled the space, most clutching a drink. The women wore tight, short dresses—the Vegas uniform. But in here, she was the only one wearing a mask.
Her hand touched her covered cheek. She couldn’t take it off, not if she wanted to follow her plan to the end.
“I have rules,” she said.
He nodded. “I’m listening.”
“Okay. Well…”
After a few seconds, he seemed to get the hint that the words weren’t coming.
“There’s no rush,” he said. “Let’s order first.”
“Champagne, please,” she said.
He relayed that information to the blond bartender hanging on his every word. Then, drinks in hand, they moved through the dark crowded interior to an exit.
“The outdoor space is one of the things I like about this club,” he said, placing his hand on her lower back. Her skin tingled as her brain tried to form a coherent message for the rest of her body, a sane response to his touch and his voice.
Stay close. Follow him. Let him touch you.
Okay, so maybe she’d left her firm grip on logic and reason back in Tennessee.
“The club opens to the hotel’s pool deck. Fresh air, music, and space to move around,” he continued as he guided her toward the water. They stopped by the steps leading down to the shallow end.
“Now for your rules,” he said, his body close but not touching her.
She took a long drink from her champagne. She felt his green eyes tracking her every movement.
“First rule…the mask stays on.”
“I can work around it. For number three. I’m not making any promises about number four.”
The familiar panic rose. “I need your word. Please.”
“All right. You have it. The mask stays on.” He turned to her and raised his free hand. His fingers brushed over her lips. “Are there any other kinks I should know about?”
“More kinks?” she repeated. Then she realized what he meant.
For her, the mask was a necessity, not a preference. But to him, it was a game.
She felt a wave of relief that the reason could be so simple. Easy. She didn’t need to explain her desire to hide the scars that had labeled her a victim, the deep grooves that left her feeling ugly and unwanted.
As if a switch had been flipped, the bold and daring feeling she’d carried within her at the restaurant opening returned. She’d spent months planning this weekend. She’d lost weight and bought the perfect dress. And now she wanted to claim the prize. She wanted to claim him.
“Yeah,” he said. “I promise to keep an open mind.” And he winked at her.
“No,” she said, laughing. “No other kinks.” She paused. “What about you?”
“I have a few, but we’ll get there.” His fingers moved down her neck, and her nipples formed hard peaks, begging to be next. “Are there more rules?”
“I go home Monday, and I’m not looking to keep in touch.”
“Four fantasies in one weekend. You’re asking for a lot.” He abandoned her neck and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Good thing I like a challenge.”
She nodded and fixed her gaze on his fingers as he traced small circles in the palm of her hand.
“I’m not saying I’m looking for more.” He drew her back against the hard planes of his body, and his lips brushed her ear as he spoke. “I’m not in a position to offer promises right now. But walking away from you won’t be easy. Any man in my shoes would agree.”
She let out a soft moan, those words mingling with the feel of his body—she almost believed that more might be possible. But when the mask came off…
“So why just one weekend?” he said.
“Did you ever want to break free from the past and everything that made you you? And wish you could erase pieces of your life? Bury the memories that hurt too much?”
As soon as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. He was a SEAL, an elite soldier, the best of the best. Why would he want to walk away from everything he’d done to get there? Unless the things he’d seen and done while serving his country were too much—
“Yes.” His voice was so low that she wondered if she’d imagined the word, knowing it was the one she wanted to hear. “Yes, Lucia. I have.”
She leaned against him and felt every inch of his body. Every inch. She bit her lower lip and resisted the urge to arch her back and rub against him here, by the side of the pool in the middle of a Vegas nightclub.
“I’m taking a mini vacation,” she murmured. “But I can’t afford more.”
“I don’t want more. All I want is you, gorgeous.”
When he said that word, she believed him. This man who would look at her for all the wrong reasons if they passed on the street in her hometown, he wanted her. She could feel it. Maybe he craved fantasy-filled sex as much as she did. Maybe he needed her, too. At least as much as they were offering each other in this moment.
He touched her jaw and turned her head to the side, careful to avoid her mask. She stared into his green eyes and saw his unspoken question. His lips hovered close to hers. So close she could feel his breath. But she knew from the way he denied himself that final inch between their mouths he wouldn’t kiss her without permission.
“Yes,” she said. “Kiss me.”
Like an uncaged animal, his mouth captured hers and brushed back and forth before demanding that she open to him. She parted her lips and let him in. His tongue touched hers, teasing her senses and sending her spiraling deeper into this unfamiliar dance.
She’d been kissed before. But never like this, with possession and lust vibrating through every touch of his mouth.
“Are there enough people here?” he asked, pulling back.
“Where?” She blinked, opening her eyes to the club buzzing around them.
“Out here. Dancing on the pool deck,” he said, keeping a hold on her. “For number three. An orgasm. In public.”
Her eyes widened. “Too many. You can’t. Not here.”
“Is that a challenge?” he asked mildly. “Because I could.”
“No.”
But he was right. She could climax right here, in this very public place, just from the sound of his voice and the feel of his body pressed against her. And oh, God, now number three felt like a mistake. The thought of an orgasm in public had seemed hot, sexy, and downright fun when she’d written the list. But now?
“No,” she repeated.
H
e nodded, scanning the area as if looking for an escape route. He cocked his head, his gaze narrowing. “How do you feel about breaking a few rules? Not yours. The club’s rules.”
“Will we get caught?”
“No guarantees.” He smiled down at her—and this one was wild and wicked. “But I’ve had some practice at covert missions.”
“I’ve been good for a long time,” she murmured, turning her head, following his gaze to the stairs leading to the upper cabana level. “I think I’m ready to be bad.”
He stepped back. “Take off your shoes.”
Just when she thought the low timbre of his voice couldn’t get any sexier, he issued a command and brought her closer to begging for his touch. She lifted her right foot, holding out her hand for balance as she loosened the black satin bow wrapped around her ankle.
His hand caught hers, preventing her from toppling into the pool. “I look at those ribbons, and I picture your legs spread, your ankles bound to my bed.”
Oh, yes…with every word, number three looked more and more like a reality. She pushed the shoe off her foot and let it fall to the ground. The pounding music masked the sound of the heel hitting the pool deck. She shifted her weight to her bare foot and pulled at the second ribbon.
“And then?” she asked.
He let go of her hand, lowered to one knee, and slipped her shoe off. He looked up at her as his free hand touched her calf, running up until he reached the hem of her dress. His fingers played with the fabric, drawing a gentle circle on her thigh.
“Fantasy number two,” he said. “And after you come against my mouth, after I taste you, Lucia, I promise you won’t remember your own name.”
“Oh.” The word slipped out as the picture formed in her mind. This man. Kissing her. There. Oh, yes.
He held her shoes for her as he stood. “Are you ready, gorgeous?”
She nodded and took his hand, allowing him to lead the way to the stairs. They reached the bouncer. The man was larger than Cade, but with half the muscle. Cade leaned close to the man’s ear, careful to keep her out of earshot. The bouncer went from half asleep to alert and spoke into the radio attached to his wrist within seconds.
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